Текст книги "Forever Loved"

Автор книги: Deanna Roy

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

3: Corabelle

Gavin ran his finger across my palm, and I felt so much calmer. The rumble of the rolling suitcases faded down the hall as he pulled the stool up next to me by the bed. “That was tough, huh?” he said.

“Thankfully the pain meds are kicking in. I didn’t think I could take another minute of his beady glare.”

Gavin laughed. “He is pretty pissed at me.”

I pressed his hand to my cheek. “They’ll adjust. It’s all pretty new, even for us.” I kissed his fingers. We had to talk about what happened. I could play the sick card, but really, we should just dive in. Get through the hard stuff before it got too late to bring it up again.

“We haven’t really talked about that last conversation we had on the beach,” I said.

“You’ve been too busy trying to re-create the Pacific in your lungs.”

I tried to smile, even though my lips were cracked and dry. We had so much terrain to cover, I didn’t really know where to start. “Where did you find someone willing to give you a vasectomy so young?”

“Mexico. Cash-under-the-table thing.”

“Was it safe?”

He shrugged. “I went to a doc here and they tested it. Said it worked. Nothing seemed damaged. He was pretty pissed I had done it and wanted the name of the doctor.”

I let go of his hand. “Did you give it to them?” The heat rushing to my face made my head hurt again. I tried to slow my breathing, stay calm. A coughing fit would end the conversation fast.

“No.” He shifted over and braced his elbows on the bed rails, resting his scruffy cheek on his wrist. He was tired. He’d probably been in that chair for days.

“Have you gone home at all?”

He reached out and ran the back of his knuckles across my upper arm. “For clothes. Now that your parents have descended, this is all the time I get with you.”

“Maybe we can tell the hospital that you’re my husband.”

“Your dad won’t back us up like he did with Finn.”

I sighed. “They could kick you out, maybe.”

“They won’t.”

“Aren’t there visiting hours?”

“Probably. I don’t exactly play by the rules.”

“That’s true.” I laid my hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry I never told you about the marijuana.”

He exhaled with a long gush of air. “I never thought you’d keep a secret from me.”

“I was embarrassed. Katie got me started, and it helped me on the test, it really did.”

“But you never told the doctors. Not even when Finn was sick.”

Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, hot and painful. “I couldn’t bear everyone hating me.”

“We wouldn’t have.”

“Everyone would blame me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I did!” I grabbed fists full of the sheets, pain shooting through my head despite the meds. I could feel another cough coming on, deep in my chest. I didn’t think I could suppress it.

Gavin reached for my arm, holding it tight. “I don’t blame you. I don’t think anyone would have. When you found out you were pregnant, did you keep doing it?”

“No!”

“Then you did what you were supposed to do.” He ran his fingers along my arm, gently, carefully. I relaxed back into the pillow, slowly bringing the upset down.

“I’m sure lots of women do it,” he said. “It probably didn’t do anything.”

I breathed in carefully, testing the cough. It had passed. “People always ask if you could change one thing, what would it be? I would change that.”

“Probably everything would have happened just the same.” He kept the pressure against my skin, feather light but comforting. He knew me. He knew what worked.

“At least then I would know it wasn’t something I did.”

He let go of my arm and stood up. I thought he was going to leave, and I could feel my chest tighten in distress, but instead he lowered the rail out of the way. “Scoot over. This bed is bigger than the one at your parents’ house, and we seemed to fit on it just fine.”

My cheeks burned to think of all the things that had happened on that narrow white bed. My parents had to have known, although the news of the baby still seemed to catch them by surprise. Of course, we all thought the shot would protect me.

I shifted over, feeling the heaviness of the tube on my leg and the pull of the tape. God, was there pee running through that into a bag somewhere? Could Gavin see it? “You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” I said.

Gavin snorted. “I want to have sex with you now.”

“No way. I’ve got pee running down my leg.”

“Sexy.”

I wanted to punch him, but even that seemed to require too much strength. He settled in next to me, cradling my head against his shoulder.

“I’ve seen you with your feet in stirrups, pushing until you’re red in the face.” He trailed his fingers lightly along my arm, making me shiver. “I’ve seen you covered in puke with the flu.”

I groaned. “This conversation just keeps getting sexier.”

He turned my face to his. “I’ve seen you before you were out of diapers, if you recall. There is nothing that could happen that would change how I feel about you.”

I wanted to believe him, to feel that same blind faith I’d known as a girl who had never known any love but his. But he had left me. “Something did, once,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stilled, and I knew I had hit him close to the bone. “I was wrong,” he said. “I was foolish and stubborn and misguided and stupid.”

I snuggled into his neck, the warmth of his skin like a balm. “That was a terrible time.”

“We will never have another time as awful as that, not if it’s in my power.”

“I believe you.”

He squeezed me gently. “Things will be better now. We’re nearly there.”

“We have to finish school. I’m missing so much class.”

“The profs know.”

I looked up at him even though the movement created a searing pain in my temple. “Promise me you’ll go back to class tomorrow.”

He frowned. “I want to be here with you.”

“I’m fine. And my parents – they are going to be difficult. Bring me class notes, show them you’re responsible. Get your life back.”

Gavin sighed. “Okay. I guess that means I’ll have to pay attention.”

I squeezed his arm. “Yes. Even the boring parts.”

“They’re all boring parts.”

I relaxed into the rise and fall of his chest, feeling sleep descending on me again. I was home.

4: Corabelle

“All right, Corabelle, rise and shine.”

I turned away from the voice, but the screaming pain from a dozen places reminded me this wasn’t my mother getting me up for school. I shifted to my back again and peered up at the unfamiliar face looming over my bed. Another nurse, different from the gray-mop-headed one yesterday. She was younger, with a lion’s mane of flame-red hair that would have made Jenny’s pink ponytails look positively ordinary.

“Is it morning again?”

“It is indeed.”

Another day in the hospital. I pushed my hair out of my face, wishing for a ponytail holder. Something to ask Mom for.

“First, pain meds.” The nurse buzzed the bed upward, and I had to brace myself on the rails to avoid sliding down. She handed me a cup of water. “Take a sip first. You are probably still pretty crackly in there.”

The water was a cool relief. Hopefully I could drink more today. My stomach grumbled and I looked down at the belly of my blue hospital gown.

“That’s a good sign.” She passed over a small cup with two pills in it. “We’ll send up a soft breakfast. You’re going to have some company in about half an hour, so we need you up and about.”

She passed me a strange contraption with several cylinders that contained small plastic balls. “Blow into this.” She angled a tube at my mouth.

I puffed into it, but only two of the balls moved up, quickly settling back down.

“Try again, as hard as you can.”

I blew harder this time, as long and sustained as I could. All the balls went up, but not very far. When I stopped, my chest contracted, and another coughing fit came over me.

“Relax, relax, breathe in.” The nurse pressed me back against the upright pillow. “The cough is going to linger for a while.”

After a minute, I finally managed to get control again. “How long?”

“Depends on how well you take care of yourself.”

“I’m just lying in bed.”

“Sitting up is better.” She moved to the end of the bed and lifted a heavy plastic bag. “If you walk steady today, then this can come out.”

Thank God. I swallowed the pills. “You said someone is visiting?”

“She’ll introduce herself. Just part of the staff.”

The social worker. I just knew it. My heart started hammering. I had to be clearheaded when she came. Sound cool, competent, and most importantly, able to explain my entry into the ocean. If I could get through this one visit well, I probably wouldn’t be bothered by her again. My goals were as clear as they’d been in a while. Get better. Get out. Get back to school. And to Gavin.

I could get back to Gavin now.

The very idea that he was out there, reachable, and waiting for me was still so new. I hadn’t felt so hopeful in years. Everything had meaning again – why I was in school, where I was going, who I wanted to be. He had been the missing piece.

The nurse took my temperature. No, the missing piece would always be missing. Finn. But at least Gavin and I had each other again.

And we’d only ever have each other if we didn’t find a way to work around what he’d done. No more babies. No family.

The nurse removed the thermometer and picked up her iPad.

“So how easy is it to get a vasectomy reversed?” I asked her.

She picked up the blood pressure cuff. “Now that’s out of the blue.”

I shrugged. “Just wondering.”

She pushed a button to start the inflation. “I’ve never done a stint in urology. We don’t get those types of patients in the hospital anymore. It’s all outpatient. But it’s done all the time.”

“Successfully?”

The cuff began its ticking descent. “I don’t reckon it would be so popular to try if it never worked.”

True. I let out a long sigh. We’d figure this out. Later, after college, we’d find someone who could look at him. This didn’t have to be the end. Hopefully they hadn’t mangled him at whatever godforsaken clinic would take on an eighteen-year-old.

“I want to get you up a little before we take out the catheter. Make sure you’re steady enough for bathroom breaks.” The nurse pulled back the covers. I grimaced at the clear plastic tube. At least there was nothing in it at the moment.

Thankfully I didn’t feel woozy today. Maybe I could leave before the weekend was over, be back at school on Monday.

“All right, let your feet come down to the floor, slowly.” The nurse held the bag from the top, and I had to look away from the yellow fluid sloshing inside. Good grief. This was worse than having a baby. The gown rode up as I moved, and the long white bandage holding the tube in place on my thigh peeked out. I could not have been more glad I had asked Gavin to go to class.

The nurse offered her arm. “All right, pull yourself up carefully. Let’s see how steady you are.”

I definitely felt the weakness in my legs as I held on to the nurse’s meaty arm and braced myself with the bed rail. As soon as I was vertical, my head began throbbing.

“Excellent. A few steps.”

The first movement forward was a little tremulous, but once I had taken a couple steps, it got easier.

“Okay, that’s good,” she said. “I can pull this.” She led me back to the bed.

I sank onto the mattress with relief, my thighs still quivering.

“Once we get some food in you, you’ll be good as gold.” She helped me move my legs back up. “This will just be a little pinch.”

The ceiling tiles were much easier to stare at than her ministrations down below. I winced as the bandage came off, then sucked in a big gulp of air as something came free between my legs.

“All done,” she said.

She whisked the tubing and bag away. “Someone will come in with breakfast shortly.”

I released a long-held breath when she left. This part was almost over. I wanted to be home, back to my books. I would be so behind in classes. It was only Friday, so at least I hadn’t missed a star party for astronomy yet. But the literature, the reading. I would have to ask Gavin to bring my books so I could catch up.

The thought of him settled me. My parents would come around, even Dad. Everything would be fine.

Someone knocked at the door, and I scurried to drag the sheets back over my legs. “Come in!”

I expected someone with a food tray, but a youngish woman with funny cat’s-eye glasses came in. “Corabelle, you up?”

This was it. I sat as straight as I could, hoping to present a normal, and more importantly sane, appearance.

She moved across the room and extended a hand. “I’m Sabrina. I work with the patients here.”

I accepted the handshake, feeling suspicious of every word. Why not just say she was a social worker? Or was she some sort of therapist?

I realized I hadn’t answered. “Hello, Sabrina,” I said. Manners, Corabelle. Normal and sane.

She pulled a stool next to the bed, smoothing out her zebra-striped skirt that fluttered over her knees, another anachronism. “Your doctors asked me to stop by and chat with you.”

My face burned as my heart rate accelerated. At least I wasn’t on monitors anymore, so Sabrina couldn’t tell. “Did we get my insurance squared away?”

“Oh, I’m not with billing or anything. I came to talk to you a little about your history, and what happened the other day.”

I didn’t answer, not sure what to say, what could cause trouble for me.

She opened a folder. “I got your records from the UCSD health clinic.”

Now my heart really hammered. The doctor there had written me a mental health referral. God, I wished I’d never gone. If Gavin had just told me about the vasectomy before, I wouldn’t have been in there thinking I was pregnant.

I realized I was clenching the sheets and forced myself to let go. “Yes, I’ve been there just once,” I said.

“For a pregnancy test and an STD screening.”

This was so humiliating. “So what does that have to do with my pneumonia?”

Sabrina arranged her face into a clinical smile, and I immediately stiffened, on guard. “I just thought you might want to talk through some of the things that might have led to the event a few days ago.”

“Do you think they are related?” I had to be careful. Every question felt like a trap.

“Well, I just see some elements in your file that might indicate you’re under a lot of stress.”

I looked down at my hands, not able to keep my gaze as steady and calm as I wanted. Everyone told me I had the poker face of a kitten, so there was no keeping up the ruse that my life was normal. “My classes are going fine. I’m a little behind now, of course, but it should be all right.”

She leaned forward, her black glasses sliding forward on her nose. “Corabelle, I know about the baby. That must have been really hard.”

I knew I should look her in the eye, show how well adjusted I was, but I couldn’t. She had no idea how hard it was. The NICU, the monitors, the doctors saying they wouldn’t operate, the ventilator going silent. Holding Finn until his chest stopped moving.

My hands were pale against the white sheets. I would wait her out, say as little as possible. I wished I knew my rights, if they could keep me here.

“Corabelle?”

She was going to make me talk. I needed an interruption, a fire alarm, something to get me out of this. I wished for Gavin. He was so much better at this sort of thing, acting nonchalant, disarming people with his charm. “It was a long time ago. I’m fine now.”

“The doctor at the clinic seemed to think you could use some assistance working things out.”

“He didn’t seem too concerned. It was optional, just there if I needed it.” I moved my gaze to the window, the blinds tightly closed. I wanted them wide, to see something outside this oppressive room – open air, the sky, and maybe the sea.

“I’m just here to help you. Are you worried about talking to me?”

I forced myself to look at her, to smile. “You seem very nice. I’m just ready to go home and get back to classes.”

“You want to talk about New Mexico? I know you left there suddenly.”

My throat got so tight that I didn’t think I could talk if I wanted to. What did she know? What records had she accessed? I would kill to see what had been transferred in the files.

“You were arrested?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You want to tell me about that?”

I wanted to say “Not really,” but that didn’t seem sane or well adjusted. “It’s in the past.”

She touched a finger to her lips, tapping them with a long blue nail. “Seems like maybe it’s still troubling you. Did you ever talk to your professor after your altercation?”

God, she knew everything. “I was asked to apologize.”

“How did that go?”

I wanted to snap, “About as well as it goes when you’ve smacked a pregnant woman,” but I just shrugged. “She handled it okay.”

A man arrived with the breakfast tray, and I was so relieved I could have hugged him. When he saw Sabrina, he stopped. “Should I leave this over here?” He pointed to a rolling cart by the wall.

Sabrina stood up. “Oh no, I think this is her first meal. She should eat.”

He set the tray on the cart and rolled it over to fit across my bed.

“Thank you,” I said, glad to have somewhere to look.

“I’ll drop by again later,” Sabrina said. “We can talk some more about your last school.”

Great. “Okay.” I lifted the blue plastic lid that covered a plate with eggs and a piece of toast, concentrating on it as though it consumed all my attention.

She headed back out alongside the man, and when they were outside the door, I covered the eggs again and let my head fall back against the pillow. I wanted a computer, the internet, to look up my situation and see how to handle it, what would happen if I refused to cooperate. I wanted Gavin, and Jenny, allies, someone to talk this through.

A hospital phone sat on the side table, but it was useless. Like most people with cell phones and contact lists, I didn’t have any numbers memorized. Although maybe my phone was dried out enough to turn on. I could at least get the numbers.

In a minute. I pressed my hand against my chest, willing myself to calm down. I didn’t want to start another coughing fit. Sabrina wanted to talk about New Mexico. It seemed she already knew what had happened. So the records were out there. The university hadn’t suppressed it all.

That afternoon was still so clear in my memory. I had been fine for months, not even relying on the blackouts much anymore to keep me grounded. I was three years into school, finally gaining enough seniority to get a private dorm room. I had a great job in the main office and important references, including deans and the assistant president of the university, which would almost ensure an easy slide into grad school. With one year to go on my bachelor’s degree, I was already looking at my options for where to go and how to pay for it.

Then a simple walk through campus on a chilly spring day changed everything. I rounded the corner of a parking garage and bumped straight into my lit professor from the previous semester. I knew she was pregnant, but now she was enormous, her belly a mile in front of her as she leaned against the wall on the back side of the building.

Everything happened so fast. Her eyes went wide as her fingers tightened on the joint between her lips. I knew immediately what it was, and I just reacted, knocking her hand away from her mouth. How dare she smoke that thing while she was pregnant? What was she thinking?

My blow struck much harder than I expected, and she fell back into the wall, the rough bricks scraping her face.

Then she was bleeding. I realized I had hurt her, and now I was in big trouble.

She looked up at me, one hand against her cheek and the other on her belly. I backed away, turned, and ran.

The trees blurred around me. I could see Finn. Gavin. My parents. Katie. Her kitchen, the joints. The pregnancy stick. The doctors, telling me Finn’s heart could not be saved. I dodged cars and passed startled passersby. I kept going until my lungs were bursting and I couldn’t go any farther. I sat on the ground behind a maintenance building, far off the path of students trekking to classes. I gulped in air, then held my breath, then decided it was unwise, then did it anyway. I welcomed the black like I had never done before, wishing I could make it last, wanting it to be permanent.

I came back around with my nose pressed into the dirt, tears tracking down my face. I stood up, lost, wondering what to do, where to go. Resigned, I just headed home.

Two men in different uniforms waited for me in the hallway outside my room. One was campus police, the other from the city.

I sat in a chair while they asked me questions. Had I hit Dr. Tate? What had happened?

The campus police officer wanted to let the school handle it, but the city officer said no, the assault had been reported at a hospital, and only the professor herself could drop the charges. He did not put me in handcuffs or anything, just asked me to follow him. He loaded me into the back of his squad car, and we drove through town. I didn’t speak anymore.

I never went into a jail cell. By the time I got through the hours-long admitting process, fingerprints, photos, and waiting in line to make a phone call, not that I knew who to try, one of the university lawyers had already arrived. He was tall in his tan suit, his hair silvering on the sides. He talked to the woman who was processing my paperwork, and she gestured to me.

He smiled grimly. “Corabelle, I’m Sam. I work for the university. We’re going to talk in a quiet room for a minute. Is that okay?”

I nodded and stood up to follow him down a hall.

We entered a small room with a plain table and two folding chairs.

Sam sat in one and laid his briefcase flat between us. “Corabelle, you are very well liked in the main office. This is an unfortunate incident.”

I sat opposite him, not sure what to say to that.

“Dr. Tate doesn’t want this to end your academic career. We’ve decided it’s best to keep this at the university level. She will drop the charges if you are willing to accept our agreement.”

I still didn’t say anything. She was the one smoking a joint. She had more to hide than I did.

“Assault of a pregnant woman, a former professor of yours, doesn’t look good on any record. I’m not sure what happened, but if you’re willing to agree to our terms, we can put all this behind us.”

Apologize? She was the one endangering her baby! Rage blossomed inside me, but I had to stuff it down. I couldn’t do anything now. They had all the power.

He opened his briefcase. “I have an agreement drawn up. It says that in exchange for Dr. Tate dropping the charges, you will agree to not speak of the incident, to apologize to her, and to arrange for a transfer to another college. Naturally we’ll assist you with transferring your credits.”

I had to leave? “But my scholarships.”

He frowned. “I’m not familiar with those. Some may travel with you.”

I shook my head. “They were all from NMSU.”

“Would you rather take your chances with a judge then? I can release you back to the custody of the jail.”

I shook my head. I knew how that would go. Telling my parents. Hiring a lawyer. And no guarantees. This was a lose-lose.

He reviewed the segments of the agreement. I signed the bottom.

“Let’s get you discharged,” he said, standing.

I followed him numbly down the corridors, back through processing, and collected my backpack and the personal items they had confiscated when I arrived.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

“I’ll take the bus,” I said.

“Good luck, Corabelle. I’m sorry this happened.”

I turned away from him to trudge down the sidewalk. The day had moved to evening. I wasn’t sure what to do next. Once again, I had to start all over.

When I got to my dorm room, I sat on the bed, feeling numb. What would I say to my parents about my move? And my coworkers. Would they clear out my desk? I wasn’t sure how big a secret it would be. I had no instructions.

I could go home to my parents’ house, but it was so full of memories – the sun room, my bedroom window, the gate in the back fence that led to Gavin’s. No, I couldn’t go there.

Finn’s framed picture sat on a small table and I picked it up. “Where do I go now?” I asked him.

He couldn’t look at me, his eyes covered with a protective mask, the tube and the blue tape preventing him from talking, or crying, or making any sound.

I slid to the floor, the picture in my lap. Why hadn’t I walked some other way? Why had she been so close to that wall? I’d never struck anyone in my life, not with anything other than a playful punch. She had no idea why I had done it. That I knew what it was like to forever second-guess yourself, to wonder if what you had done had harmed your child.

No one ever told you what to do when your world caved in. I had no one close enough to call about this, just coworkers and a few study partners. I wasn’t sure if I could even tell them anything, based on that agreement.

I had never been so utterly alone. When Finn died and Gavin left, I still had my parents and the sympathy of an entire town. Now I had nothing, no one. Not even a home or a school or a future that I could see. I lay flat on the rough carpeted floor, Finn’s picture on my chest, letting the heaviness of my grief and fear settle over me like a blanket.

What would I do?

Beneath my bed, light glinted off a plastic bag that held a few of my summer clothes. I reached for it, dumping the shorts and tank tops into a pile and crunching the crinkled bag in my fist.

Did I dare?

I propped the picture on my belly, admiring Finn’s cheeks, pink and fat beneath the gray mask. I could remember their pillowy softness. I had held him only once, watching his chest rise and fall with urgency until the movements slowed down, with long spaces in between, then stopped.

I quit thinking of anything at all and tugged the bag over my head. An ugly image, I was sure, the girl with the dead baby on her belly and the grocery sack on her face. I twisted it under my chin to seal it off. I wouldn’t die. I would pass out and let go, and air could get in.

Or not.

It didn’t matter.

The plastic settled over my skin, then gradually began to mold itself to my nose and cheeks, sucking in against my mouth. A tear trickled from my eye to my ear. I felt my lungs aching, the panic building in my chest. I began to writhe, my arms insisting on coming up to pull the bag away. I fought the urge, stuffed it down, raged against the survival instinct that tried to change my mind.

Then my body went quiet and still, and I could relax into the dark. The light began to fade and I sensed my hand hitting the floor.

But I didn’t go out. I heard crayons scraping across paper. In front of me was an image as wide as the wall, as tall as my imagination. I was coloring the blue sea, spreading color with broad swaths. Next to me, Gavin, boyish and short, his socks sagging, knelt and filled in the sand with a pale brown crayon, decorating the surface with starfish and clamshells.

I laughed and stepped back. The ocean was vast and beautiful. Gavin turned to look at me, and we smiled. This was our future, our goal, our home.

My belly heaved and suddenly I threw up into the bag. I yanked it away, panicked, disgusted, but in awe at my body, resisting me, making me do its will.

Finn’s picture clattered to the floor, but didn’t break. I snatched a shirt from the bed and wiped my face, sucking in air. I would survive this. I would make it home.

To the sea.