A Slice Of Heaven. Sherryl Woods

else to say.

      “Just hurry, please. I need to get inside and see if the doctors can tell me anything yet,” she said, and disconnected.

      Ronnie was slower to disconnect. Well, there you go, he thought. Fate has just stepped in.

      But if anything happened to his little girl, he didn’t even want to think about what the future might hold.

      “Okay, I called him. Are you satisfied?” Dana Sue said to Maddie.

      Her friend had stayed right by her side, almost as if she feared Dana Sue would renege on her promise to call Ronnie and tell him just how serious the situation was.

      “Is he coming?” Maddie asked, following her into the E.R. waiting room, with its bustling activity, icy temperature and antiseptic smell.

      “He says he is,” Dana Sue answered, not entirely sure how she felt about that. Ronnie had sounded genuinely distraught, and she had no reason to doubt that he was. She’d never questioned his commitment to their daughter, only to her. He’d stood up to Helen in court and insisted on having visitation rights. She knew how hard he’d tried to keep in touch with Annie. It must have killed him to be rejected again and again. Enough time had passed that she could almost feel sorry for him. Now, hearing his voice, needing his strength, made her remember too many things she’d been trying frantically to forget.

      “It’s good that he’s coming,” Maddie said. “Annie needs both of you right now.”

      “I need to see her,” Dana Sue said, heading to the desk to plead for permission to go into the cubicle where the doctors were working on her baby.

      Even before she got there, Maddie intercepted her. “What you need to do is let the doctors do their job,” she said, guiding her to a seat away from the other families crowded into the waiting room. Only after she was satisfied that Dana Sue would stay put did she leave her alone long enough to let the nurse on duty know they were there.

      Before Dana Sue could muster up the energy to make a desperate dash into the treatment area, Maddie was back, and then Helen came in with all the girls, explaining that she’d detoured to take one of them home.

      “Any news?” she asked.

      Dana Sue shook her head, then burst into tears. She turned away from the obviously terrified teens and buried her head on Maddie’s shoulder. “I don’t know how much longer I can bear this,” she whispered.

      “I know it’s hard,” Maddie said. “Waiting is the worst part.”

      “What 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