The Shadow Wife

“I’d like to understand what has you so down, though,” Joelle said. “Sometimes new mothers feel terrible because of the hormonal changes that occur after pregnancy, and—”

“That’s not it.” Ann spoke into her pillow.

Joelle felt the nausea returning, rising up from somewhere low in her gut, washing over her slowly, the way it had when she’d looked at the bowl of oatmeal. It was so hot in the room. She wasn’t sure she could make it through this interview.

She licked her lips and tried again. “Your nurse told me you gave birth to a healthy baby girl during the night,” Joelle prompted, and she knew immediately she’d hit the real reason for Ann’s depression. The woman turned her face toward her, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“My mother-in-law will never forgive me,” she said. “It’s the second girl. My husband is so angry. He won’t even come in to visit me.”

Joelle barely heard her last words. She was going to be sick. Standing up quickly, she managed to say, “Excuse me, I’m sorry,” to the woman before fleeing from the room.

All she wanted was to make it to the restroom in the nurses’ lounge, halfway down the hall, but the colors and smells and motion in the corridor made her dizzy, and she knew she would never reach the lounge in time. Ducking into one of the patient rooms, she was relieved to see that the bathroom serving the two beds was free, and she managed to close the door behind her before vomiting into the toilet.

Flushing the toilet, she stood up and leaned back against the wall. What a lousy time to run out on that mother! What a horrible thing to do to the poor woman. But her thoughts quickly returned to her own pain, which was still there, burning and cramping, and the bathroom felt like a sauna. Could it be her appendix? she wondered, but the pain now seemed too high on her side for that.

Wetting paper towels with cool water, she pressed them to her forehead. Did she have a fever, or was it the lack of air-conditioning that was making her so hot? Either way, something was definitely wrong with her. A summer flu, maybe. Whatever it was, she didn’t dare try to go back to Ann’s room. She’d have to fill one of the nurses in on the situation and see if someone else could take over for her. Right now all she wanted to do was find Rebecca.

She rinsed her mouth out with cool water and looked at her watch. It was nearly eleven. Rebecca should be finished with her rounds by now and in her office.

Leaving the patient room, she headed down the long corridor toward Rebecca’s office, the pain in her belly jarring her with every step. Someone behind her called her name, but she didn’t bother to turn around. They would have to get along without her for a while.

She was nearly crying by the time she reached Rebecca’s office, and she felt the two patients in the waiting room staring at her as she limped toward the reception counter.

“LuAnn, I need to see Rebecca,” she said to the receptionist, who was writing something on a form.

LuAnn glanced up at her, then back at her notes. “She’s with a patient, Joelle,” she said, but then her head jerked up again as if the sight of Joelle’s sweaty face had just registered in her brain. “You look terrible!” she said, setting down her pen. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m not sure. I’m sick. Let me go into one of the examination rooms, please. Then tell Rebecca I’m here.”

LuAnn’s eyes flew open. “Are you pregnant?” she whispered.

“Shh.” Joelle pressed a finger to her lips, but she knew the gesture was futile. So much for her plan to escape Monterey before anyone knew. She had the feeling that, whatever was going on with her body, today was the day everyone would learn that unmarried, unattached Joelle D’Angelo was more than four months pregnant. And if everyone knew about it, Liam would, as well.

“Go in the first room,” LuAnn said. “I’ll let Reb know you’re here and that you look like hell.”

In the small examination room, Joelle could not decide whether to sit, stand or lie down. No position offered relief from the pain, and every movement felt as though it was tearing something loose inside her. She thought she should try to undress so that Rebecca could examine her. Her red-checked dress could stay on, but she should at least get her panty hose off.

She was leaning against the examining table, the room spinning around her, one leg of her panty hose off and the other on, when Rebecca stepped into the room.

“What’s going on?” Rebecca asked, taking Joelle’s arm as if to steady her.

“The cramping is worse,” Joelle said. “And I’ve been throwing up. I’m dizzy. I’m hot. I think something’s really wrong, Rebecca.”

“Can you get up here?” She patted the table with her free hand.

Joelle nodded and managed to climb onto the step, then turn around and sit down gingerly on the edge.

“Are you all right?” Rebecca asked, her hand still on Joelle’s arm and a look of concern in her eyes. “Do you need a basin?”

“I don’t think so,” Joelle said. “It hurts, though, Rebecca. I don’t think it’s ligament pain anymore.”