Nova tried to carry on, pulling the wagon down the road. But she couldn’t stand up straight. She was doubled over with the cramping pain.
When the blood stained her shorts, she didn’t know what to do. She was in agony, couldn’t go on to the store, didn’t have the strength to go back.
She pulled the wagon off the road, into someone’s yard. Got the baby out of the sun, under the shade of a tree. A dogwood tree.
She sat in the grass, panting. Tears started running down her face, she hurt so bad. Nova had to get home, some way. But she couldn’t just lie there in the grass. Caden could crawl out of that wagon, get into the street.
Nova got on hands and knees, then got to her feet. Grabbed the handle of the wagon, then started walking. She stumbled down the sidewalk, bent over, pulling the wagon behind her.
Seemed like it took years before she made it back to her street and dragged the wagon up the walk. Nova sobbed as she clutched Caden’s hands to tug him up the steps. Kept on putting one foot in front of another until she made it inside the front door of their apartment.
Caden toddled off, crying, “Mama!”
Nova dropped to the floor of the front room and curled up in a ball. Mama stepped out of the bedroom. The minute she saw Nova, Mama screeched like she saw a snake ready to strike.
“Nova! What you up to? Where’s them things I told you to go get?”
Nova could barely whisper the answer. “I’m sick, Mama.”
“Quit putting on a show. You just lazy! You not sick when you got up this morning. Now get up and go on back to the dollar store, like I told you.”
Nova knew she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t stand up and walk, not even if someone set the house on fire. She closed her eyes, wailing with the pain.
Her little sister had crawled under the table. She called out to Mama. “Nova making the floor dirty, Mama. Making a big mess!”
The blood flow was heavy, making a big swipe of red on the floor. Dirty, like her sister said, but Nova couldn’t clean it up. She clutched her belly while she moaned and cried.
All the noise made a neighbor come across the hall, to see about the commotion. Nova heard old Missy Potter squawk in the doorway. “Starla Jones! You got to call for help!”
“Mind your business! She just playing.”
“That girl needs the doctor. Call 911!”
Nova didn’t know how much time passed before she heard the siren out in the street. She was certain she was dying, waiting for either the angels or the devil to come. When two men came instead, and put her on a stretcher, she thought she was dreaming.
CHAPTER
11
Bria Gaines
UNION SPRINGS, ALABAMA
The flushed, feverish child tried to clamber off the examination table in Dr. Gaines’s office. She caught him before he escaped.
“Arlene, you’ll need to hold him while I get a look inside that ear.”
The child’s mother stepped up to the padded table and held him snugly against her chest. Bria was able to get a good look at the inflammation. The boy had another ear infection, his third in the past two months.
“You were right about the ear, Arlene. A lot of moms are excellent diagnosticians.”
“Dr. Gaines, why does he keep getting these ear infections? Are the antibiotics not working?”
Bria was sidetracked before she could answer, distracted bynoise in the outer office. Raised voices were making a ruckus right outside her door. She heard her receptionist, Sonya, arguing with a man. He was demanding to see Bria immediately.
The office got noisy sometimes. People who were sick, or in pain, or advocating for loved ones, could become agitated. But this sounded different. Something about the exchange set off warning bells in Bria’s head.
Made her stomach clench with dread.
