Flowers
“But is she going to be alright?” Ginny managed to ask through her tears.
“She should be,” Ryan responded. “But we can’t be sure yet.”
Ryan, Ginny, Beth, and Michael were standing in Hermione’s room about thirty minutes after she had come out of surgery. She had been in the operating room double the time it typically took to perform a caesarean. Ginny had been crying ever since a nurse ushered her out when Hermione went unconscious.
Beth was standing next to Ginny. She had been trying to comfort her for a while, but it was hard when she was trying not to cry herself.
Michael had said very little since the moment he arrived, when he had found his sister and Ginny crying on each other’s shoulders.
“She’s heavily sedated; we wanted to make sure she would be comfortable. You shouldn’t expect her to wake up for a while. Um, regarding the baby, Mr. Taylor will be here soon. He’s the head paediatrician and he will explain her condition.”
“Thank you, Ryan.”
“You’re welcome.” The doctor looked at Hermione’s sleeping figure sadly. “I’ll be here tomorrow”well, actually in a few hours”to see how she’s doing.”
“Hello,” said a man in white robes as he came into the room soon after Ryan left. “I’m Mr. Taylor.”
“How is she?” asked Michael, standing up as soon as he saw him. “How’s the baby?”
“Mr. Sandford, your daughter is very delicate at the moment. We’re trying to do everything in our power to help her. I’m very sorry.”
Michael looked as though he were on the verge of tears.
“Since the baby was premature,” the doctor continued, “we placed her in the special baby care unit. She can’t breathe on her own, so she is connected to a ventilator, and we are giving her intravenous therapy.”
“Will she be alright?”
“We have to wait for the next 24 hours,” said the paediatrician. “We’ll be able to determine what will happen if... well, if she makes it through the night.”
“What can I do?” he asked, suddenly nauseous.
“I could recommend that you go back home. All of you, really. Both mother and baby have been through a terrible ordeal tonight, and they need to rest. Mrs. Sandford probably won’t wake up anytime soon, I expect, although you might want to consult that with her doctor.”
“I won’t leave.” Michael’s voice was firm. “I can’t leave them here alone.”
“I... I understand. I’ll keep you updated, Mr. Sandford.” The doctor shook Michael’s hand and exited the room.
Everyone sat in silence, terrified about the baby’s fate. Michael covered his face with his hands and sighed.
“She’ll be fine,” said Beth quietly, trying to smile at her brother. “You’ll see. They’ll both pull through.”
“I know,” was Michael’s reply. He brought his hands down and failed to show even the smallest smile. His nose was red, and he felt he had a knot in his throat.
Ginny looked at Michael thinking she had never seen this side of him before. She was slowly realizing how little she knew him at all. She had figured she could judge him by just knowing little titbits and facts about him, but now she knew there was more to Michael than met the eye.
Newsflash, Ginny: Michael Sandford has feelings, just like everyone else, she thought, scolding herself in silence.
“Why don’t you guys go home? It’s terribly late and you have been here with her all night. I’ll be fine.”
“If you think you’ll be alright,” said Beth, standing up, “then I think I’ll go home. I think Charlotte’s developing a cold...”
“It’s fine,” said Michael.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home with me?” Beth asked her brother. “I’ll set up the guest bedroom. We’ll be back early, before she even wakes up””
“Beth, the two most important people in my life are here. I can’t go. I can’t just leave them here. I don’t want to, either.”
“Do you mind if I stay a little bit longer?” asked Ginny.
“Not at all,” Michael answered.
“I’m just worried about you, that’s all,” said Beth.
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Beth. “You should get some rest, Michael.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Love you,” said Beth.
“Bye.”
After Beth left, there was an awkward silence between Ginny and Michael. She was trying to summon up the courage to confront him about the night they ran into each other.
“I can only imagine what you think of me,” said Michael unexpectedly. “This random guy that married your best friend and is now making her life a living hell... He makes her unhappy... He’s never there when she needs him... He’s shagging everything that moves...”
Ginny wasn’t expecting Michael to say that. Ever.
“I don’t think that,” she replied, embarrassed.
Michael looked at her incredulously.
“Entirely,” she added.
“Harry had a talk with me a while ago. He was... Well, he was very angry, to say the least.”
“Don’t you get it?” hissed Ginny furiously. She was trying not to raise her voice, since Hermione was sleeping, but found this very hard. “She’s our best friend. How can we not be angry about what you are doing to her? You lie to her. I know you’re feeding her lies. Just as I know that, deep down, she knows you are lying. It’s just that she’d rather not face the truth. We don’t want her to get hurt, Michael. And... Well... Everybody says that you’ve been””
“I know what everybody says, Ginny. Not that my marriage is anyone’s concern...”
“I just want you to take care of her, Michael,” said Ginny. “I want her to be happy, and she’s just not happy right now.”
“And I guess you think it’s my fault,” said Michael.
“Not all of it,” said Ginny.
She decided to marry you. That was clearly her fault, she almost added.
“She’s... She’s lucky to have friends like you,” said Michael.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Ginny, standing up. “I’ll bring a few of her things over. Is there anything I can bring you?”
“No, it’s okay.”
“Alright.” Ginny left without saying another word.
Her eyes opened slowly. At first, she didn’t recognize the place she was in, but slowly she realized that she was back in her hospital room.
Hermione tried to lift her head, but it felt too heavy. She looked around the room and suddenly something caught her eye.
It was the figure of her husband, sitting on the couch with his eyes closed, his head tilted a bit to the side, and arms crossed.
“M-Michael?” Her voice was weak.
Michael opened his eyes and lifted his head.
“You’re here,” said Hermione breathlessly.
“You’re awake,” said Michael, promptly getting up. “Do you feel alright? Do you want me to get anything for you?”
Hermione shook her head. She lowered her eyes and looked at the thin catheter taped to her right arm. The end was inserted through her skin, where several medications were entering her blood stream.
“My hand’s numb,” she told Michael.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Michael sat on the bed looking at Hermione in silence. He took Hermione’s bare, cold hand and held it.
“Are you cold?”
She nodded.
“I’ll get you another blanket.”
“No,” Hermione said. “Stay with me.”
She noticed how his eyes were swollen and his nose was red.
“Michael? How’s the baby?”
Michael looked down and swallowed nervously.
“They’re taking care of her, sweetheart.”
“Is she okay? Michael... Tell me she’ll be fine...”
“They don’t know yet, Hermione.”
“What do you...” Hermione choked up. If they did not know how her baby was going to be, that meant that they were not sure she would make it.
Michael squeezed her hand gently.
“Can I see her?” Hermione asked.
“Darling...” Michael started.
“Please... Let me see her,” she pleaded through her tears. “I want to be with her.”
“I don’t think that is a good idea, Hermione. You must rest.”
“Have you seen her?”
“I...” Michael swallowed. “I saw her when they were taking her to the nursery. I didn’t get to see her properly, though.”
He was not about to mention she was surrounded by three paediatricians that were trying to keep her alive.
“Oh,” said the nurse that suddenly walked into the room. “It’s nice to see you’re up, Mrs. Sandford.”
Hermione dried her tears with her sleeve.
“I’ll be out of here quickly, don’t worry,” said the nurse, walking over to her side and detaching the bag of IV fluids from her catheter. “I just have to hook you up to a new set of IV solution. Do you need anything to make you feel more comfortable?”
“She mentioned earlier she was cold...” said Michael, his voice softer than usual.
“I’ll bring some extra blankets, then.”
After the nurse left, Michael and Hermione remained silent. When she came back with the blankets, they nodded politely. No one said anything until the nurse was about to leave.
“Excuse me?” said Michael.
“Yes?”
“Do you think...? Is it possible to see our baby?” he asked.
The nurse looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t think that is a good idea,” she said. “Mrs. Sandford is in no condition””
“Please,” Hermione pleaded.
The nurse sighed.
“I... I’ll see what I can do.”
As the nurse closed the door, Hermione squeezed Michael’s hand.
“Thank you,” she said.
Michael looked at Hermione through sad eyes, full of remorse. She had never seen him act this way.
“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Do you know something I don’t know? Is something wrong?” Hermione felt anxious.
“No... It’s just... I’m so sorry, Hermione,” Michael told her, squeezing her hand as well. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner...”
“You couldn’t have prevented it. I know you had to leave for business. I know you wouldn’t have left otherwise.”
“I should have been available the moment they called me. I should’ve been paying attention to the phone...”
“It’s not like you did this on purpose, Michael.”
“No, Hermione, you don’t understand... You don’t understand at all...”
“What do you mean?”
There was a knock at the door. The nurse walked in.
“I talked to Dr. Taylor. Um, he said that he could make an exception and allow you to be in the intensive care area just for a few minutes, because it’s not visiting hours.”
“Thank you so much,” said Hermione.
“You’re welcome,” said the nurse. “I’ll bring you a wheelchair.”
Once the wheelchair arrived, Michael helped Hermione to sit. The nurse transferred the bag of IV solution to the wheelchair, and they made their way to the nursery. Michael held Hermione’s hand all the way.
Once in the nursery, the nurse moved Hermione’s IV once more, this time to an IV pole, to allow her mobility. Hermione walked slowly, her stomach in horrible pain. Michael walked next to her, assisting her.
As soon as she saw several babies in incubators, she started feeling sick.
When Hermione saw the incubator with a pink card that read “Baby Sandford,” her heart skipped a beat. No one had prepared her for what she was about to see.
The baby was connected to several machines that made Hermione shiver. She also had a small cuff around her little ankle, a tube going in through her mouth, and her IV was going in through her forehead, right above the hairline. However, those were not the only things that impressed Hermione. The baby’s size scared her the most. She couldn’t have been longer than her forearm.
“Oh my God,” whispered Hermione. “Michael... She’s...”
“I know,” he replied, turning away and wiping tears away from his eyes.
Hermione looked at her daughter as her heart ached. A sob came out of nowhere and she felt herself tumbling back. Michael caught hold of her with the help of the nurse, and someone brought a chair.
“Do you feel alright?” she heard someone ask her.
She simply nodded, fat tears escaping her eyes.
“You should go back to your room,” said the nurse.
“Can’t I stay with her for a few more minutes? She’s here all alone... I don’t want to leave her alone.”
The nurse looked at Michael, looking for support.
“Let us stay for a few more minutes,” he said instead.
“Alright, I’ll give you five minutes, tops.”
“Thank you,” Michael responded. He helped Hermione stand up and they walked together towards their daughter’s incubator.
“She’s beautiful,” whispered Hermione, with her voice filled with emotion. She could barely talk. Michael was behind her, supporting her, since she was so weak.
“Yes, she is,” said Michael, sounding emotional as well.
There was silence for a moment.
“It’s my fault,” Hermione whispered. “It’s all my fault.”
“Hermione, listen to me,” said Michael, holding her tight. “There is no possible way you could have prevented this.”
A small sob escaped Hermione’s lips.
“These things can happen to anyone. It’s just that this time it happened to us. We will come out of this, we are going to take her home, and she will have a wonderful life. So don’t you dare say this is your fault, Hermione. Don’t you dare,” Michael said firmly.
“We’ve got to name her.” She sniffed after a moment. “We don’t have a name yet.”
“I know... Well, I had been giving this a lot of thought a while ago,” Michael whispered to his wife’s ear. “What do you think about Jane?”
Hermione’s head turned quickly to face him. She smiled softly.
“Like Mum.”
Michael nodded.
“It’s perfect. That’s the perfect name.”
“Look at that hair,” said Michael. “She’s going to be a beautiful redhead.”
“You’re right,” said Hermione, suddenly surprised. “Why?”
“Well, my grandparents were Irish,” said Michael. “If I remember correctly, Nana had fiery red hair. And besides, Mother is a redhead as well.”
“No...” said Hermione, trying to hold back her laughter. “Elizabeth Sandford cannot possibly be a bottle blonde.”
“Oh yes,” said Michael. “She goes to great lengths to maintain that hair of hers.”
After a pause, Hermione spoke, suddenly serious again. “She’s going to be fine, right? She’ll be fine, right?”
Michael, who couldn’t control or predict what was going to happen to his daughter anymore than he could control or predict the weather, kissed the top of his wife’s head and answered, “She’ll be out of here in no time. You’ll see.”
“It is a bloody nightmare to carry these around. I want to see Muggles work themselves around this one.”
Hermione heard these words early in the morning, as Ginny and Molly came into her room. They were carrying a suitcase.
“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed gently, suitcase falling with a heavy thud to the floor.
She walked up to her friend and hugged her, but not too tightly. She was holding Hermione as if she were scared to break her.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes,” said Hermione weakly, her voice hoarse. “Hello, Molly.”
“Hello, dear.” Molly kissed the top of her head. “How’s the baby?”
“They... They said they’re not sure yet,” Hermione replied.
Molly and Ginny did not know what to say.
“Well, what did they say about you?” Ginny asked.
“They said I would be just fine.”
“Good. That’s very good news.”
“The thing is,” said Hermione, eyes watering up, “I don’t think I want to be fine if my daughter... if she’s dying.”
“Oh, don’t say things like that,” Molly said quickly, producing a handkerchief. “You will be both fine. Don’t worry.”
“Where’s Michael?” asked Ginny.
“I... I’m not sure,” said Hermione, suddenly looking confused. “He was here when I fell asleep.”
“He probably went out for coffee,” Molly said.
He had been standing there for about an hour. He could not sleep. He could not eat. He was filled with horrible dread.
He felt terrible about not being here for Jane’s birth. If it had not been for the wizards that allowed him to travel with them, Michael was sure he would have spent the night in Paris. With this being the peak of the travel season, there were few Portkeys available. The thing that had been playing repeatedly in his head had been the fact that he had not been working that night. If he had only made his phone available, he would have been there in time.
“I won’t be going abroad anymore,” he remembered saying to Hermione a few hours earlier. “Not without you.”
“But what about your job?” Hermione had asked in confusion. “Don’t you need to travel very often for your job?”
“I... I don’t care about that anymore. If I need to travel again, I’ll make arrangements to have you and Jane there with me. And if for any reason you two can’t travel, I’ll find someone to replace me. Maybe Liam or Dad can do it. Bottom line is that, I won’t allow myself to be apart from you again.”
“Sweetheart,” said Hermione patiently, “you’re being irrational.”
“I... I will not do this to you again. I promise.”
Michael stood in front of the window to the nursery, looking at the happy families”the lucky families”that got to take their newborns home that day. Once or twice had people stopped to look at him as they walked past him, thinking they were looking at the one and only Michael Sandford, heir to the Sandford fortune, but quickly dismissing their suspicions. After all, he was not that recognizable. Eyes bloodshot, hair untidy, shirt wrinkled... Who would expect a multi-millionaire to look like that?
Looking at his watch, he realized Hermione’s doctor would be arriving shortly. He took one last look at the nursery and headed to her room.
He wasn’t expecting to find Ginny and Molly Weasley there so early.
“Hello, Michael,” said Molly as softly as possible, since Hermione was sleeping. She got up to shake his hand but he hugged her instead.
“Hi,” he replied. “Hello, Ginny.”
“How are you?” she asked.
“How would you be?” he replied miserably.
“No news then?”
“No. Her doctor will be here shortly, and we’re still waiting for news on the baby.”
“Did you decide a name?”
“Jane Elizabeth, after her grandmothers.”
“It’s lovely,” said Molly.
“Good morning,” said Ryan, coming into the room.
“Hello,” said Michael.
“So,” said Ryan, “how did she spend the night?”
“She drifted in and out of sleep all night,” replied Michael, looking haggard. “As soon as she woke up she wanted to go and see the baby””
“Did they allow you to see her?”
“Yes,” replied Michael, “But just for a few minutes.”
“Well, according to Hermione’s chart,” said Ryan, shuffling the papers he had in his hand, “she’s stable. We just need to monitor her for a few more days and if she continues to improve, I’ll discharge her in no time.”
“What are you going to do with all these?” Ginny asked.
“I have no idea,” replied Hermione.
Two days after giving birth, Hermione lay on the bed surrounded by several floral arrangements, most of them from Michael’s friends and extended family, and the rest from the Hogwarts faculty, the student body, the Weasleys, and the Potters. Ginny and Hermione were alone. Today, Molly was helping Harry with the triplets, and Michael had just gone to the cafeteria for some coffee.
“Can you bring me a bit of water?” Hermione asked Ginny.
“Sure,” Ginny said, standing up and walking out of the room.
Hermione felt exhausted, which didn’t make sense to her; she had been resting for the last couple of days. The only relief she had gotten had been that they had taken Jane out of the horrible incubator. She was still hooked up to several machines, but the doctors said that her chances were improving.
Finally, Hermione saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
As she mulled over her thoughts, the door opened, and her visitor was someone unexpected. Hermione’s heart dropped.
This time, Claudia Macmillan was dropping by, bringing with her a bouquet of pink roses.
“Hello?” said Claudia softly, coming into the room. “Oh, you’re awake! I was just going to drop these off. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Hello,” said Hermione, trying to digest her shock.
“Congratulations!” exclaimed Claudia, walking up to the bed and giving Hermione a peck on the cheek. “How’s your daughter?”
“She’s getting better, thanks,” replied Hermione slowly, not believing she was having this conversation.
Just then, Ginny came back with Hermione’s water.
“Hey!” said Claudia.
“Claudia!” Ginny laughed nervously. “Er... Lovely flowers! What on earth are you doing here?”
“Thanks! They’re from Ronnie and me,” replied Claudia, turning to smile at Hermione. “I told him we should visit or we should at least have sent something, but the big baby just kept making up excuses so I took matters into my own hands. Still, maybe I shouldn’t have gotten flowers. I didn’t expect you to have so many already.”
“The flowers are lovely,” said Ginny, taking the bouquet from Claudia’s hands and placing it by the window. “Aren’t they, Hermione?”
Hermione just nodded briefly, staring at Claudia with tears in her eyes.
“They’re from Ronnie and me.” They’re from Ron and her.
“Do you... want to sit down?” asked Ginny, hoping she would say no.
“I’m just visiting for a few minutes,” said Claudia. “Just wanted to bring the flowers myself. I... I have to get back to the Ministry. It... It was lovely seeing you, Hermione.”
“Yes,” said Hermione, almost whispering, as she looked away. “Thank you.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Ginny told Claudia. “Be right back, Hermione.”
Once they were out in the room, Ginny turned toward Claudia.
“Thank you so much for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“I’m so sorry I dropped by unannounced. The last thing I wanted was to upset her.”
“Oh, no, please, she’s just on so many medications that... She’s a bit emotional at the moment. It was a very nice gesture. I know she appreciates it.”
“Of course,” replied Claudia. “I really need to go anyway so... Let’s have lunch soon, alright?”
“Definitely,” said Ginny, forcing a smile.
Hermione was discharged from the hospital a week after giving birth. Michael spent every day in the hospital with her; he had been living off the little suitcase he had packed for his trip to Paris. He did not even show up for work. Elizabeth and Peter Sandford had visited only once. She was drowsy and had difficulty remembering what Elizabeth had said. Well, at least the medication had worked for something.
Three days after the birth, when doctors were sure Jane’s condition was improving, Hermione and Michael got to hold their daughter for the first time.
At first, Michael had been reluctant because he didn’t want to hurt his baby, so he just watched as the nurses transferred Jane from her little cot carefully, handling with care all the cables and catheters that were attached to her body.
Hermione’s eyes watered up as Jane’s tiny fingers wrapped around one of hers.
“She’s a princess,” said Michael, beaming down at his little girl.
“Yes, she is,” said Hermione.
Since they did not know when Jane would be discharged from the hospital, Michael told Hermione he could arrange for them to stay in London so they would be close to the hospital. They ended up staying at The Ritz for two weeks, until the paediatricians decided Jane was ready to go home. When they arrived at the house in Hogsmeade, Michael had a surprise in store for his wife.
As Hermione entered what would be Jane’s room, she gasped.
The room that had been a mess the day she left, was now the most precious room anyone could have. The light coming in through the big French windows made the room look spacious. It was painted pink, with elegant white crown moulding. The ceiling had been painted light blue, with delicate clouds. There were beautiful pink lilies everywhere, placed in different vases all around the room. Immediately, Jane’s room became Hermione’s favourite room in the house.
Michael had brought in decorators as well, apparently. There was an exquisite chandelier with pink crystals hanging from the ceiling, a beautiful antique rug on the hardwood floor, and Hermione recognized the round hand painted cot as the one she had seen in a catalogue but had never told Michael she wanted.
“How did you know?”
“You used to stare at it all the time. The catalogue became tattered because of all the times you took it out of the ‘baby magazines’ pile. How could I not know?”
“This is wonderful, Michael. I thought we would have to work on this all month.”
“Beth helped me to get all the people in to work on the room. She was here every day last week, making sure everything was ready by the time we got back.”
“It’s amazing. I love it.”
“I’m glad.”
Hermione walked to the centre of the room and was amazed by the beautiful painting to her left. Not too big, but definitely not small, it had an ornate golden frame, and showed a smiling ballerina on stage poised in a pirouette, carrying a bouquet of flowers in one of her hands. She was dressed in very light pink, a contrasting colour to the green forest behind her. The painting looked vaguely familiar, although Hermione did not know where she had seen it before. As she got closer, she was able to distinguish the artist’s name.
Degas.
Hermione stood speechless staring at the painting.
“Do you like it?” asked Michael, his voice making obvious the fact that he was smiling.
“Is this... It can’t be... original?”
“Well, it’s Mum and Dad’s gift to Jane and you,” replied Michael. “Mother has had it for years sitting in her vault, and when Beth told her that we had this little project, she decided this was the perfect place to put it. It’s called ‘Dancer with a Bouquet of Flowers,’ and I think Degas painted it in 18… something.”
“This is unbelievable,” said Hermione.
“Do you like it?” Michael asked her again.
“It’s beautiful, Michael. This whole room is… perfect. Look, Jane,” Hermione cooed to the baby in her arms. “Look at what Daddy has done for us. It’s our own princess room.”
Jane yawned.
“I think this girl needs a nap,” said Michael.
Hermione placed her daughter in the cot and she and Michael just stood there admiring her.
“We’re finally home,” he said.
“Yes, we are.”