- Nerves of Steele,
Will of Iron and Dreams of Gold
- Part 8
- by SteeleChic
1999
Remington paced anxiously across the waiting area. When he could
go no further, he spun in his heel and stopped still. He looked
impatiently at his watch. What was taking so long? He
wondered nervously, it had been over an hour, surely it was a
relatively straight forward procedure wasn't it?
Suddenly his gaze fell on the others. Donald was doing a tremendous
job of keeping the usually easily excitable Frances calm, and
Abigail sat serenely, talking softly with Daniel. With a wry
smile, Remington realized that's where Laura got it from, years
of watching her mother mask her feelings, put on a brave face,
and solider on after Laura's father had left them.
Beginning his pacing again, Remington almost ran into Mildred,
who rounded the corner with a tray of piping hot coffee.
"Here Boss, take one," she offered, but he merely shook
his head and kept on pacing.
Placing the tray of drinks onto the small table, Mildred hurried
over to join him, "Come on, Boss, sit down," she cajoled,
"You're wearing a hole in the linoleum."
"What's taking them so long, Mildred?" he asked fretfully,
"Surely it should be over by now, it's been over an hour."
"Well, if I know Laura, she's probably giving them hell
in there," Mildred tried to be encouraging as she fell in
step behind him, but her voice was hollow. She didn't know who
she was trying to reassure, Mr. Steele or herself. It tore at
her heart to see him like this, he'd be lost if anything happened
to Laura. Heck, who was she kidding? They all would. She was
such a presence in their lives.
Just as they turned for another trip across the waiting room,
Dr Barnett emerged from the operating theatre, wearily removing
her rubber gloves. Remington hurried over to her while the rest
of the family stood up automatically and moved nearer, hovering
uncertainly behind him.
"Mr Steele, you have a baby girl. She's perfect, ten fingers,
ten toes," Dr Barnett said with a small smile that faded
quickly, "She's also very tiny and very weak and, just as
we suspected, her lungs aren't fully developed yet. She can't
breathe properly by herself so we've put her on oxygen. The machine
fills her lungs and trains them so that, like any muscle, they
will strengthen, and hopefully soon she'll breathe by herself.
She's not out of the woods yet but we have every reason to be
optimistic."
Remington absorbed the information in a daze but it wasn't what
he wanted to hear, "Laura," he uttered throatily, "How's
Laura?"
"She's still in ICU," Dr Barnett told him, "The
surgery was hard on her, her body was under enormous strain and
the eclampsia was fairly advanced. During the surgery started
hemorrhaging, bleeding internally, and she lost a lot of blood
but we did everything we could. She's sleeping, her body needs
time to recover."
"Can I see her?" he asked, his face ashen, "I
want to see her."
"Of course, Mr Steele," the doctor replied.
Laura was white as a ghost, again attached to various tubes and
machines. She was eerily still, appearing even tinier now that
she no longer carried their child, engulfed in the hospital bed.
"Can she hear me?" Remington asked huskily.
"It's possible," Dr Barnett answered, "Let her
hear your voice, feel your presence."
"How long will it be before she wakes up?" he wanted
to know.
"It's hard to say," the doctor replied, "Her body's
been through a lot of trauma, it could be as long as 24 hours."
"I see," Remington murmured.
"Only one visitor at a time," Dr Barnett reminded him,
"Same goes for the baby, she's in neo-natal, one floor up.
Anytime you want to see her just go right ahead."
Remington merely nodded, sliding down into the chair, resuming
his position by Laura's side. He picked up her hand, which was
cold to the touch.
"Did you hear that Laura?" he asked softly, "We
have tiny, perfect, baby girl. I'm right here waiting for you,
we're all her and we all love you, so come back to us, OK?"
He drew her hand to his lips as Dr Barnett finished checking
Laura's chart and adjusting the machines.
"Can you tell the family they can see the baby whenever
they please?" he asked, "I promised Laura I wouldn't
leave her side."
"Of course, Mr Steele," Dr Barnett answered, "As
you wish."
Th entire family headed up to the neo-natal ward. They had all
heard what Dr Barnett had said about Laura and the baby. The
easily trusted that Laura would continue to be strong and pull
through like she always did but the baby was different. She was
so defenseless, so weak.
From outside the neo-natal unit they located her, the name tag
on the humidi-crib reading "Baby Girl Steele".
It was too much for Abigail and tears began to slide down her
cheeks at the sight of her granddaughter. When she would have
sagged with emotion, Daniel's comforting arm supported her.
A young nurse came to them, "Come and see her," she
invited softly, "I'll let you both come in." She lead
them to the crib, "You can touch her, let her know you're
here. Touch means so much to babies, they sense how they're loved."
She was so tiny as to be almost skeletal. Minuscule tubes ran
from her nose and mouth, the mechanical swoosh of the machine
pervaded the room as it inflated her lungs with oxygen. The diaper
was ridiculously large for her, it almost swallowed her up but
there she was, ten fingers, ten toes, perfect little nose, eyes
and mouth and fine, downy, brown hair. She was the image of Laura
as a baby.
Abigail reached a tentative hand through the special opening
of the crib and touched her granddaughters tiny fist, running
her fingertips along an arm that was barely any fatter than one
of the fingers that gently caressed it.
Suddenly Abigail smiled, her tears turning to tears of joy, "I
bet you'd dearly love to punch the person that took you out of
there, wouldn't you darling?" she whispered, "Hi there,
welcome to the world, baby girl."
When they had each seen the baby, they returned to ICU. Remington
hadn't moved at all, he still sat rigidly by Laura's side, cupping
her hand in his.
It had been almost 48 hours since Laura had been rushed to hospital.
The worst was over and now it was just a waiting game. There
was still the agency to run and lives to lead and Daniel said
as much to Mildred, Abigail, Frances and Donald. Abigail would
have argued but she was weak with fatigue and it was decided
that they would all be kept posted, visiting as often as they
could, within reason.
Only Daniel remained, for he had no obligations in Los Angeles,
his life was in London. He gazed through the window at the man
he knew as Harry, so far removed from the young pick pocket he
had first encountered one blustery day in Brixton, and yet now
so unlike the Remington Steele he had become. His shoulders slumped
wearily and Daniel was more than concerned. He was so in love
with his wife, so consumed by her, that he was barely functioning
without her.
Dr Barnett returned for her hourly observations, stopping on
her way out as she noticed Daniel's furrowed brow and slight
shake of his head.
"There's been no change in Mrs Steele's condition, her vital
signs are stable," she told him, "That's a good sign."
"My dear, it's not Laura I'm worried about," Daniel
admitted softly, "May I go in there and speak to him?"
"Well, all right," she answered, "But only for
a minute."
Daniel nodded as he quietly slipped into the room and came up
beside Remington, "Harry, my boy," he said, placing
a hand on his shoulder, "She needs her rest and so do you.
You haven't slept a wink in two days. Why don't you -"
"No!" Remington interrupted quietly but insistently,
turning to look at his oldest friend, "I promised her I'd
stay right here beside her."
His pale face was drawn and tired, dark circles under his eyes,
his jaw shadowed by two days worth of stubble.
"You're going to make yourself sick with worry," Daniel
told him, "Then what good will you be to Laura, what good
will you be to your daughter? They need you."
"Which is why I'm not going anywhere," Remington repeated,
"If I sleep, it will be here in this chair."
Daniel couldn't resist a small smile, Stubborn as a mule,
he thought, Wonder where he gets that from? Well at least
he's met his match in Laura. If that baby turns out half as stubborn
as her parents, she'll be a force to be reckoned with!
"Daniel, take my keys, go to the apartment and get some
rest," Remington suggested, "There's nothing you can
do tonight. I'll see you in the morning, but I' not leaving her."
"I see that," Daniel said, taking the keys with a chuckle.
He knew when he was beat, "Try to sleep," he suggested.
Remington turned again, "Thanks for being here, old friend,"
he said with quiet sincerity.
Daniel merely nodded and left the room.
Remington turned back to Laura, linking his fingers through hers
and laying his cheek against their joined hands where they rested
on the bed.
It wasn't fair. They hadn't been together very long. OK, so they'd
been in each other's lives for over five years now but always
at cross purposes, when one of them had been ready to move forwards,
the other hadn't. When they finally got it together about a year
ago and began moving in sync once and for all, Laura had gotten
pregnant so fast they'd barely had any time to themselves.
Closing his eyes, Remington thought back to the day when they
had stopped running away from each other and had finally run
smack, bang into each other. He wasn't going to lose her now,
not when he remembered how close he'd come to losing her once
before, how it almost hadn't happened that day, but for a little
help from their friends, one in particular......
-
- To Be Continued . . .
- Back Home CaseBook
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