Lily of a Day

By Joyce Burgess

Brenna Callahan is a neonatal nurse in Portland, a job she has always loved. But when one too many patients die, she burns out and realizes she can't return to the NICU. With the help of her best friend Molly, she reevaluates her life and decides to move to the ocean to recover. Brenna is having a good time renovating her "new" old house when she begins to have dreams of a mother losing her baby and wonders if her house is haunted or if a different force is at work. She has suffered from nightmares about babies at work and her parents' plane crash, but these dreams seem different. She gradually "adopts" a retriever and three cats who find their way into her heart and brighten her life. Along the way, she becomes attracted to Adam, a firefighter EMT who exposes her to stressful medical situations once again. In the end, she has to reevaluate her life yet again and decide if love is enough.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joyce Burgess
• Release date: Jul 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476331379

Joyce Burgess

Joyce is an RN currently finishing her BSN through Boise State. "Lily of a Day" is her first book and she is working on her second one. Joyce lives in Idaho with her husband, six dogs and 2 cats. She and her husband have 5 daughters and 8 grandchildren between them.

Book preview

Brenna hurried into the nurses’ lounge, sliding her plastic coffee mug across the table. Traffic was a nightmare.

Molly looked up from the coffeemaker where she was brewing the first pot of the evening shift and smiled. Late again, are we? she teased, knowing full well it was usually she and not Brenna who came storming in at the last minute.

Shut up, you, Brenna replied, grabbing clean blue scrubs off the shelf and her shoes from her locker. She dressed quickly and pulled her auburn hair up in a ponytail, frizzy curls escaping here and there due to the humidity of the warm, rainy day. After gulping some coffee, she glanced at the clock, relieved to note she’d at least make it to the Neonatal Intensive Care in time for report. She locked up her purse and clothes, and followed Molly down the hall.

After they scrubbed their hands thoroughly, Molly swiped her name badge through the NICU lock and held the door for Brenna.

About time, you guys. I want out of here! It’s been a zoo today. Caren sat down with a thump and laid a chart on the rolling cart near an isolette holding a tiny baby. After running a hand through her short blonde hair, she pulled pens and alcohol swabs from the pockets of her rumpled uniform, laying them on the cart.

How’s Jack doing today?

He’s feeling better; in other words, he’s been a little pill. I’ve had him and Lakeesha because that new one just got here from Astoria.

What’s up with her?

We don’t know yet. Initially, she looked septic to them, but her blood work’s okay and her chest x-ray looked normal. Her color’s crappy and her blood pressure's dropping so Dr. Lee’s thinking heart. They just finished doing an echo.

Molly looked at Brenna. You pick, you’ve had a worse morning than me.

Okay, I’ll take the new one. I had Jack last night and he was a bugger then, too.

You got it. Molly started getting report from Caren while Brenna crossed the aisle to the radiant warmer surrounded by staff in uniforms and paper gowns.

Hi, guys. Relief’s here.

Yeah, for Scott anyway, smiled the respiratory therapist, carrying away a blood gas sample. Brenna picked up her new patient’s chart.

Scott gave her a weary smile. Well, I got all the initial admitting stuff and the echo out of the way. Unfortunately, the echo showed she’s got left heart. Dr. Lee’s gone to talk to the parents.

Oh, that’s too bad. What a sweetie. The baby girl lay still and limp in the warmer as a ventilator assisted her breathing in an attempt to keep oxygen circulating through her little body. But Scott and Brenna both knew what they had here was a pump problem. Just as in any operating thing, if the pump wasn’t able to keep things circulating, then the fluid it was circulating, in this case oxygenated blood, wasn’t of the benefit it should be. Since the left side of her heart had not developed, it was failing, unable to do its job.

I gave her a dose of Indocin to keep the ductus open and she was happy with that. Her sat’s been more stable. But her only chance is surgery now. Scott stared at his patient, her black hair curling on top as if it had been wound around a finger. Nurses often have a sixth sense of their patient's condition, and Scott’s face was grim. He sighed and started giving a more detailed report, running over her IV fluids and rates, medications, and ventilator settings.

When he finished, he clapped Brenna on the shoulder. Okay, he said. Have a good night, kiddo.

Brenna smiled after him as he walked off. He had been with them for several years and was one of her favorite nurses. His large hands could handle the smallest preemie with infinite gentleness and his calm in a crisis was a definite asset.

She surveyed the child before her, assessing her visually without touching her so as not to stress her more than necessary. She was reading her history and chart when Dr. Lee, her small footsteps silent as usual, approached the warmer.

Brenna, these are Ariel’s parents, Ben and Lisa. We’ve already discussed Ariel’s condition and what she’ll be facing.

Brenna put her arm around Lisa and gently drew her toward the warmer. You can touch her and talk to her, if you like. They always recognize their parents’ voices.

Ben cleared his throat. Dads too?

Oh, yes, anyone who’s been with Mom frequently through the pregnancy.

He...he talked to her every day, Lisa said, her voice quavering. She bent over the warmer, tears falling from her cheeks onto the blanket on which her baby lay. Hi, honey. Mommy and Daddy are here. Ben put his arm around his wife, but his voice choked up when he tried to talk.

Ariel’s been given a sedative so she won’t be upset by the ventilator tube. That’s why she appears to be sleeping.

Lisa looked up. So she’s not hurting, right?

Oh, no, she’s resting comfortably.

Lisa drew in a ragged breath and moved over a little so Ben could get closer to the warmer. Talk to her, honey, she needs to know we’re here.

Ben leaned over his daughter. Hi, peanut. You just sleep and rest up. You’ve got some work to do getting better. We love you, we won’t leave the hospital until you’re better. Grandma and Levi send hugs and kisses.

He straightened and thanked Dr. Lee and Brenna for the care their baby was getting, then guided his wife to the exit doors. Lisa managed to make it through the door before Brenna saw her through the window, doubled over in grief. Ben put his arms around her and they walked away.

Who’s Levi? Brenna asked.

Ariel’s big brother, he’s four. Dr. Lee turned to the warmer as RT brought back the gas results.

They’re worse. And the repeat chest x-ray she got here showed some cardiomegaly. She’s in congestive heart failure and it’s just getting worse, but there are no hearts available for transplant. We don’t believe she’d make it through the Norwood procedure because her aorta’s in pretty bad shape too.

So we’re just in a holding pattern for now?

That’s about it. It doesn’t look good.

Brenna quietly turned back to the warmer and gently wound the little black curl around her finger.

Over the next hour, Ariel worsened considerably. Her lungs were filling with fluid and her color was mottled and graying. Brenna knew she didn’t have long and was about to call Dr. Lee when she approached the warmer.

I’m going to go talk to the parents. There’s nothing we can do for this little one.

I know, Brenna said quietly. I was just about to page you.

The doctor passed through the exit door and Brenna saw her enter the family room through the large window that opened onto the NICU. She sat next to Ben and as she began to speak, Lisa buried her face in Ben’s sleeve, her shoulders shaking. Ben nodded and turned to his wife, hiding his grief in her dark curls, holding her tightly. Lisa’s mother sat next to them with Levi curled in her arms, and she rocked him gently as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Dr. Lee returned to the NICU, walking more slowly as if she had taken on a great weight since leaving the room. And in a way, she had. The burden of any death sentence is great, but when it was a tiny baby who had not yet had a chance to live, it took a toll on everyone. She gave the order to discontinue life support and left the nursery silently.

When the doctor had gone, Brenna began turning off all the monitors. She checked Ariel’s diaper, but her kidney function had slowed and it was dry. After removing her IVs, she wrapped her in a warm blanket. Looking up to see Ariel's family leaving the visitors’ room, she pulled the ET tube from the baby’s airway and suctioned her mouth. As Lisa and Ben approached the warmer, Brenna picked Ariel up and led them to a private room. In Ben’s arms was the little boy with Ariel’s pale skin and dark hair, the grandmother following closely behind them.

They sat down in wooden rockers and Brenna put the baby in Lisa’s arms. Hooking up the heart monitor, the beep silenced, Brenna looked at the rhythm; the heart rate was becoming more rapid as the small heart tried desperately to do its job. Ariel’s breathing was also rapid, but her family noticed none of that as they zeroed in on their only daughter.

Hi, my sweetie, Mommy’s here, Lisa said softly.

This is your baby sister, Levi. Isn’t she pretty? Ben asked his son. Levi nodded, his fingers in his mouth. She’s only going to be with us a few more minutes, she’s too sick to stay with us. But God sent her to us for a short while and she’s beautiful, isn’t she? Levi nodded.

Lisa stroked her baby’s cool cheek. I think she has your eyes, Ben. And my ears. She pulled the blanket back slightly. And my hands. You’re my pretty angel, Ariel.

It was becoming obvious to them now that the end was close. Ben handed Levi back to his grandma, and they returned to the family room. Brenna stood by to provide Ben and Lisa with any support they needed.

Lisa swallowed and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. It’s okay to go home, honey. We love you so much and I wish you could stay. But I guess God needs you back. He must be short on angels. She wiped her own tears from her baby’s face as the monitor showed severe tachycardia. It’s okay, honey; you don’t have to fight.

Ben got on his knees and put his hand on his daughter. It’s okay, honey. We love you, he echoed his wife.

Lisa kissed her as the monitor showed asystole; the little heart had stopped. It’s all right, honey. See you soon.

Brenna reached over and turned off the monitor. She’s gone, Lisa.

Lisa froze and looked at her baby’s still face. Oh, God.

Brenna disconnected the monitor leads. Do you want to spend some time alone with her?

Lisa raised agonized eyes to Brenna’s. Please.

Brenna went out, closing the door behind her. As she returned to the warmer to clean up, she heard a cry that chilled her heart. Lisa had kept her composure until her daughter had died, but was now grieving aloud. Brenna quietly picked up all the garbage and linen, the last thing to do, other than to write in Ariel's chart, 2110 – Patient expired peacefully in mother's arms, father @ side.

Chapter 1

Brenna stood in the gateway of the old picket fence, long ago whitewashed by a proud owner. Now the whitewash was peeling and the wood as weathered as the house in front of her. Climbing roses, beginning to bloom, had overtaken the front of the house and partially obscured the doorway. Ivy snaked its way up the moss-covered chimney on the north side and large old rhododendrons covered much of the south wall. Smiling, she realized it had been a long time since she had felt this happy. She recalled the realtor’s words on giving her the address of the house. I really don’t think this is what you’re looking for. An older couple lived there for years and weren’t able to keep it up properly. It needs a fair amount of renovation and the roof leaks. The old woman had a lot of cats and the Humane Society wasn’t able to catch them all when she went to the rest home after her husband died.

Brenna had already tolerated viewing condos and beach houses in Seacliff and the realtor realized she was going to lose the sale completely if Brenna wasn’t given the freedom to poke around some of the older homes in the small beach town.

She had seen a few that had fallen into such a decrepit state that she was beginning to think this town did not have her home hiding in it after all, waiting to be discovered as she had hoped. But on this misty northwest morning, she had followed the directions to 19 Ivy Lane, a single lane gravel road, and now stood on the old flagstone path with a feeling of anticipation.

Walking up to the door, Brenna put the old skeleton key into the tarnished lock and found it turned easily. Carefully holding the roses aside, she ducked and entered her new home.

Chapter 2

The morning after Ariel’s death, Brenna found she could not get out of bed; she was so tired. She called in sick to work for the next two days. On the third day, an hour after calling in once more, someone knocked on her door. She lay in bed, eyes on the TV, waiting for the intruder to go away. The knocking continued for several minutes and then she heard Molly yell, Brenna, I’m going to go get the super to open this door if you don’t! You’re scaring me! Now open up!

Brenna shuffled to the door in her wrinkled flannel pajamas and unlocked it. Molly opened it and charged in, a breath of fresh air following her.

What’s wrong? Have you been to a doctor? You look awful.

Gee, thanks, Moll. Good to see you too. Brenna crawled back into bed.

Molly put her hand on Brenna’s forehead and Brenna brushed it away. Molly looked around the darkened bedroom and saw dirty plates on the bedside table, laundry on the floor. The air was stale and stuffy. She looked back at Brenna with concern.

What’s up, Bren? Talk to me. This isn’t like you.

Brenna looked at her with dull eyes.

I don’t know. It must be some bug going around. I’m just tired, so tired. She looked back at the TV. How is Jack doing?

Molly paused. His intestines are failing. He’s in critical condition.

Tears welled in Brenna’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. Molly hugged her closely.

You know we can’t save them all, honey. We’re not God.

Molly, I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch them die, watch them go home damaged or to abusive parents, Brenna sobbed. I can’t do it anymore, no more.

She hadn’t really realized it until she heard about Jack, but this was the end. All her life she had wanted to be a nurse and it was a dream come true for her to work in the neonatal unit. But the sadness and stress had taken too large a toll. Molly got up to get her some tissues from the bathroom as the tears continued.

Honey, I think you should seriously consider taking some time off. When was your last vacation anyway? she asked.

Brenna wiped her face, a wasted effort as the tears flowed unchecked. Molly stopped talking and sat quietly beside her on the bed, the Lucy and Desi rerun babbling in the background. They stayed there for the better part of an hour until Brenna took a big breath and wiped her eyes for the last time.

I’m going to take a leave of absence, I think, and if they won’t let me have it, I’ll quit. I’ve had nothing to do with my money all these years but save it toward a house. Maybe the house won’t be here after all. I have to get out of this city.

I wish you wouldn’t leave, but I think you’re burning out. I can’t imagine not having you nearby. You won’t go far, will you? Please tell me you won’t go live near Maureen in Michigan, Molly said.

The idea here is to get away from stress, not run to it, Brenna laughed through her tears. Anyway, I love the northwest. Maybe the beach, I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean. And as quickly as that, she changed her life forever.

Chapter 3

The sun was shining brightly when Brenna pulled into the steaming gravel driveway. It had rained heavily that morning, but now the clouds were scudding to the east as raindrops glistened on the grass and the cascading pink roses. Spring had arrived in the little seaside town as Brenna brought the first load of her possessions to her new home. She had traded her prized green Miata in on a blue Blazer after buying the house. Molly swung in behind her in a borrowed van holding the rest of Brenna’s worldly goods. The previous owner had left her furnishings behind as she had no other family to take them. Brenna had taken this opportunity to rid herself of meaningless things collected through the years and had brought only her most important belongings.

They climbed out of their respective vehicles and stretched.

Well, Molls, what do you think? Brenna grinned.

Molly held her tongue for a moment, deep in diplomatic thought.

Ah...it does have a certain ambience...while appearing to require some extensive repair, do you think?

Come on, look at the bright side! The gutter’s falling off and I have to paint the trim, but look at the rhododendrons and roses. The rhododendrons are huge, they have to be pretty old. Wait until you see the antiques she left. Let’s go, it's easier to go in the back door because of the roses in front.

Molly followed, shaking her head.

Brenna pulled a new brass key out of her jeans pocket and inserted it in the shiny deadbolt. She had already replaced this door after scouring antique salvage shops in south Portland and had painted the scarred wood a bright white.

They passed through the tiny kitchen into the dining room, occupied by an oval mahogany table and its four chairs. The towering purple and scarlet rhododendrons nearly obscured the view through a small bay window near the table.

Brenna opened the darkly varnished sliding doors into the front parlor and Molly could see the front door straight ahead, the roses a natural curtain over its window. There were a couch and chair covered in burgundy velvet, trimmed in mahogany and layered with dust. A small dark table sat next to the chair. A steep, narrow staircase ascended the south wall and a fading flowered rug covered the floorboards, threadbare from use and time. But Brenna’s favorite thing was an old rocking chair, set in front of the river rock fireplace. Its old wooden frame was the perfect size for her.

Not bad, Molly sneezed. Could use a good vacuum, though.

Come on, I’ll show you the upstairs. Brenna headed for the staircase. Molly eyed it with some trepidation.

Oh, come on, it’s stable. I’ve been up and down it several times.

They climbed the narrow stairs, making a sharp left at the top. Straight ahead was a small hallway dividing the second floor. A stained glass window was at the far end, a pane of rippling clear glass surrounded by squares of blue and green.

Brenna opened the door to the guest room first. It overlooked the backyard, most of which was obscured by overgrown flowering bushes and underbrush.

See way in the back? It looks as if there’s part of a fence back there. I’m wondering if there’s a separate garden. I have a lot of yard work to do before I get there though.

The room itself had been painted a pale yellow, more pale now with the passage of time. It held a four-poster bed frame with a matching nightstand and an old hurricane lamp. In the corner was a cherrywood cradle that swung noiselessly on its wooden supports when pushed. It was in perfect condition.

Isn’t this gorgeous? I don’t know why it’s here. I'm thinking maybe they were unable to have children. Come look at this.

They crossed the hall and Brenna opened the door. I found this hanging in the other room over the cradle.

Molly studied the old embroidered sampler in its simple wood frame and read it aloud.

" 'It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make Man better be;

Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,

To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:

A lily of a day

Is fairer far in May,

Although it fall and die that night-

It was the plant and flower of Light.

In small proportions we just beauties see;

And in short measures life may perfect be.' "

Molly paused with tears in her eyes. Oh, Bren. You must be right. This is beautiful. It describes the importance of lost babies in just a few lines.

Brenna put her arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the front windows. Now, view something to make you smile.

Molly looked through the old glass to see the far waves of the Pacific rolling in gently now that the rain had passed. You can see the ocean from here! This is great, Bren.

This room also held an old bed frame with a waterfall headboard in excellent condition. Against the far wall was a matching dressing table with a huge round mirror.

Why on earth did this lady leave all this stuff here? Was she senile or something? asked Molly, mystified, looking around the room.

At this point, your guess is as good as mine. Her name’s Helena Montgomery and I hope to meet her and ask some questions about this place. We’ll see.

They went back out to the hallway and Brenna showed Molly the pull-down ladder to the small attic space above.

I haven’t even gone up there yet. I think I’m afraid to. Small dark spaces were never my strong point.

Finished with the tour, they went down to lunch before tackling the unloading.

At the end of the day, exhausted and grimy, they retired to the parlor; Brenna to her rocker with a pillow and Molly to the well-vacuumed couch. They had been working so industriously they hadn’t noticed, but now it became apparent. The only noise they could hear were a few birds and their own breathing. After years of city living, it was an odd thing. The silence was almost tangible.

Are you sure you’re going to like it out here, Bren? We’ve lived in the city for so long, Molly asked quietly.

Brenna smiled.

"That’s a big part of it, Molls. I need a break from the constant noise