if—?”
Maddie cut her off. “Don’t you dare say it,” she said sternly. “Only positive thoughts, you hear me?”
“Maddie’s right,” Helen said, though her normally composed face showed traces of the same gut-wrenching fear that was eating at Dana Sue. With no children of her own, Helen felt a special connection to Maddie’s children and to Annie. And now that Annie was in her teens, Helen loved to indulge her in shopping trips to Charleston.
Pushing her own fears aside, Dana Sue reached out and took Helen’s hand. Seeing her normally unflappable friend so deeply shaken was most disconcerting.
“Why don’t you two go to the chapel and say a prayer for Annie?” Maddie suggested. “I’ll stay here with the girls.”
Dana Sue regarded her with alarm. “But what if there’s news?”
“The chapel’s right down the hall. I’ll come get you the instant the doctors come out,” she promised.
Dana Sue glanced at Helen, noted the tears welling up in her eyes, and knew her friend was close to falling apart. She needed a distraction. They both did.
“Come on, Helen,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let’s go see if you can use your excellent powers of persuasion where they’ll really count.”
Helen gave her a wan smile. “God might give me a little more trouble than the typical jury,” she commented. “Especially since we haven’t been on the best of terms recently.”
“You and me both,” Dana Sue admitted. “Hopefully He’ll forgive us for our lapses.”
“He won’t take our sins out on Annie,” Helen said confidently. “I know that much.”
As they found their way to the tiny chapel, Dana Sue was already praying, asking God to heal her daughter and to give her another chance to be a better mother. Inside the quiet, dimly lit room, with the scent of burning candles filling the air, an amazing sense of serenity stole over her. She almost felt as if God had heard her silent plea and was enfolding her in His reassuring arms.
She and Helen sank onto a hard, wooden pew and looked up at the small stained-glass window behind the altar.
“Do you think He hears everyone who comes here?” she asked Helen.
“I don’t know,” Helen replied. “But tonight I really need to believe He does. I need to believe that He won’t let Annie suffer, that He’ll heal her and bring her back to us.” She glanced over at Dana Sue, her cheeks damp with tears. “I think I love that girl of yours as much as you do. We simply can’t lose her.”
The sense of peace that had come over her when they walked into the chapel brought Dana Sue comfort. “We won’t,” she said, with a level of confidence that astounded her. “We won’t lose her.”
Helen gave her a startled look. “You sound awfully sure.”
“I am. I’m not certain why I’m so positive, but I am.” She sighed. “If I’m right, things will be a lot different from here on out. No more sticking my head in the sand about her eating disorder. No more convincing myself that she’s eating when I know in my heart she’s not. Annie’s going to get whatever help she needs. She’s not going to leave this hospital till we know exactly what to do to make her well. I won’t fail her again.”
Helen regarded Dana Sue with dismay. “You didn’t fail her.”
“I did,” she said emphatically. “She’s here, isn’t she? Whose fault is that, if not mine? I saw the signs. We all did. But did I take her to see the doctor? No. Did I realize that she was really in crisis? No. What is wrong with me? Was I just too busy to see it?”
“Absolutely not.” Helen shook her head. “Like a lot of parents, you just didn’t want to believe what you were seeing. The choice was Annie’s, Dana Sue. She’s not five years old or even ten. She’s almost a grown woman.”
“But she’s still way too young to fully understand the consequences of her actions,” Dana Sue argued. “I knew, but I kept putting off doing anything about this, because I didn’t want to confront her and upset her with my suspicions. I wanted her to like me, instead of being the responsible parent she needed. If ever there was an occasion that called for tough love, this was it. I’ve read probably a hundred articles. I knew all the signs and symptoms of anorexia. I even knew the dangers, and yet I kept telling myself that it couldn’t happen to Annie, not to the girl with the sunny disposition who’d always embraced life. She was going out with her friends. She was active. I just didn’t believe we’d reached a crisis stage.”
“Well, that’s water under the bridge,” Helen said pragmatically. “We’ll all work together to fix this now.”
Dana Sue closed her eyes and tried to imagine Ronnie’s shock when he saw Annie for the first time in two years. Somehow she’d gotten used to seeing the thin shadow of the girl Annie had once been. Ronnie only had memories of an exuberant, healthy teenager with glowing skin, shiny hair and the first hint of a woman’s curves.
“What?” Helen asked, studying her worriedly.
“Ronnie’s going to be furious when he sees her,” Dana Sue said. “He’s going to wonder how on earth I let something like this happen to our daughter without trying to fix it. He’s going to want to talk to teachers and counselors about why they didn’t see it and intervene.”
“It’s not as if he was here to do his part,” Helen said heatedly. “So of course he’ll want to spread the blame around.”
Dana Sue regarded her with a wry expression. “He wasn’t here because that’s how I wanted it, remember? I was the one who insisted on limited visitation and then secretly rejoiced when Annie refused to see him at all.”
There was a faint flash of guilt in Helen’s eyes, but she continued her defense of Dana Sue’s actions. “Come on, hon. Don’t you dare let him off the hook and take all the blame on yourself.”
“I had full custody,” Dana Sue reminded her. “You fought for it and got it.”
“There wasn’t much of a fight,” Helen scoffed. “Ronnie was anxious to leave and get on with his life. He was only too eager to send support checks and forget all about her.”
Dana Sue didn’t usually cut Ronnie a lot of slack, but now she did. “You know better than that, Helen. Whatever his issues were with me, he loved Annie. He only agreed to limited visitation because you convinced him it would be best if Annie wasn’t pulled in two different directions. In the beginning he called almost every night, but Annie hung up on him. He invited her to visit him over and over again, but she turned him down. She told me. Lately, though, they’ve been in touch, probably even more than I know.”
“Maddie mentioned that,” Helen said. “Why are you defending him all of a sudden?”
“I’m not defending him. I’m just trying to prepare myself for how he’s going to react when he gets here.” She shuddered. “Something tells me all hell is going to break loose.”
In fact, there was a very good chance that Ronnie would take one look at his daughter and head straight for the courthouse to argue for a new custody arrangement, one that would give him the day-to-day responsibility for his daughter. Given tonight’s events, Dana Sue wasn’t sure she had the strength—or the right—to fight him.
Ronnie spotted Maddie the minute he walked into the hospital. She was in the midst of half a dozen teenage girls, but her gaze immediately clashed with his. To his surprise, her eyes held warmth and compassion.
She stood up and crossed the waiting room to where he stood uncertainly just inside the door. Places like this freaked him out under the best of conditions. He’d been a wreck the night Annie was born, and her birth had gone smoothly enough. Based on what Dana Sue had told him, it was anything but certain that tonight would turn out as happily.