Cooked Goose

unconscious.
    So, other than making sure that Officer Morton O’Leary was stationed at the door of the I.C.U., Dirk couldn’t do much about arresting him yet.
    As he was leaving through the emergency entrance, he heard the news... and promptly headed for the maternity ward on the third floor.
    That was where he found Savannah , sprawled across five seats in the waiting room, looking like a semi truck had run over her.
    “Hey, Auntie!” he said, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
    “Uh, huh,” she mumbled without moving or even turning her head to look at him. She was staring at the ceiling, for all practical appearances, brain dead.
    “I hear it’s twins, a boy and a girl, and you delivered them.”
    “Uh, huh.”
    “So, are they checking mom and the kids in? They’ll be here for a few days, I guess.”
    “Huh, uh.”
    He leaned closer. “Was that a no?”
    “The babies were born outside the sterile environment of the hospital,” she said, so low he could hardly hear her. “They’re contaminated. They can’t stay in the nursery with the other newborns.”
    “And?”
    “And Vidalia won’t stay in the hospital without her babies. So, they’re all coming home with me. All. Home. My home. With me.”
    “Oh, Van... I’m so sorry,” he said.
    “Me, too. So, so sorry.”

    * * *

    December 25 — 2:15 p.m.

    Eighty degrees. Not a cloud in the sky. Just your typical Christmas Day, Savannah thought as she watched her friends and family celebrating the holiday in her backyard. The twins were running around in bathing suits, squirting each other with the garden hose, screaming like miniature banshees.
    Tammy was catching some rays in her polka-dotted bikini, stretched out on a Betty Boop beach towel. Why, Savannah wasn’t sure, because she’d seen her slathering on a heavy-duty sunscreen just before lying down. Go figure.
    Maybe it was because Ryan Stone was sitting beneath the arbor, sipping a champagne cocktail, looking incredible in charcoal slacks and a navy blue shirt. Tammy had never fully surrendered the fantasy of catching Ryan’s attention.
    Dirk sat in a chaise longue beneath the magnolia tree, holding one of the newest arrivals, Noel. Dirk didn’t look especially at ease with his paternal role, but they were all taking turns keeping the newborns occupied, and it was his shift, so he wasn’t complaining.
    Butch sat next to him on another longue, jostling Noel’s sister, Merry, who wasn’t happy and was intent upon the entire neighborhood knowing it. Like a typical Reid girl, she was cute beyond words, ate constantly, and was quite mouthy when things didn’t go her way.
    Vidalia was asleep in the hammock next to the house, Cleopatra curled into a ball on her now fairly flat tummy. She looked great in the dressy slacks set Savannah had bought for her. As one of her Christmas gifts, Savannah had treated her to a “Day of Beauty” at a local salon. The hair and facial makeover, along with massages and herbal steams had brought back her usual, lovely, vain self.
    Yes, Savannah thought, just a typical California Christmas. She walked back into the house where it was ninety-three degrees, thanks to the turkey roasting in the oven. The kitchen smelled of pumpkin and mince pies, mashed potatoes and gravy, freshly baked rolls, and the fragrance of sage, thanks to Savannah’s aunt’s wonderful dressing recipe. Aunt Gondi made the best dressing south of the Mason-Dixon line, and Savannah had been able to get it only by exchanging her own famous onion roll recipe.
    She found Margie arranging pickles, olives, radish roses, and cherry tomatoes in decorative patterns on a platter.
    “That looked great, kiddo,” she told her as she stole an olive and popped it into her mouth. “How are you doing?”
    A look of sadness crossed the girl’s face, then she smiled. “Okay. The hospital says my dad’s doing fine. He’ll be able to leave tomorrow. Not that it makes much difference. He’ll be going right to jail.”
    “I’m really sorry things turned out this way for you.” Standing beside her, Savannah gave her a hug around the waist. She returned the embrace.
    “It’s all right. When I talked to my mom on the phone today, she says she thinks it’ll work out for me to stay at home with them. She says if I’ll behave myself, she’ll tell her old man to lighten up on me.”
    “Are you going to, behave that is?”
    “I guess. Mostly, he just didn’t like the hair. He shouldn’t