"Carrie?" A whisper was all he could manage, and she lifted her head slightly, causing long strands to fall slightly, gathering around her face.
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she reached with one hand and touched his cheek, where the tears flowed. She only managed one mangled word: "Why?"
There were a million things she could be questioning. God knew, he'd had many--but somehow Robbie knew what bothered her were the tears, something he'd never once shown his wife. Perhaps it was a stupid idea of appearing weak or that he just couldn't seem to make himself that open. Whatever the reason, he'd never once cried in front of her.
"I don't know." He wanted to give a better answer as he reached and took her hand in his. They were both shaking, and he wondered what had caused his wife to tremble and why he couldn't make it better. "Are you all right?" It was probably a stupid question considering the doctors could find nothing wrong with her, but he felt compelled to ask, even if Carrie didn't have an answer.
She stiffened unexpectedly, and Robbie's frown deepened as he wiped his face. "Carrie?"
Her hand drifted back to her stomach, and she looked down at it expectantly. Although Robbie sat, no more than a few inches from his wife, she focused only on her body, and whatever was happening, Robbie wasn't a part of it--or at least he wasn't until she'd taken his hand and placed it on her abdomen.
"Ba-by," she whispered, breaking the word into two distinct syllables. She stretched the 'a' far too long and sounded more like a child learning to speak than a wife who'd had once been eloquent in most everything she'd said.
What had happened to her? Robbie wondered, and he felt the panic begin anew, at least until a soft thump against his palm caught him off guard. He waited. Sure enough, there came another thump, and it stunned him to realize his son or daughter was kicking like that.
"Baby," Carrie said again.
He nodded and let a small smile surface. "Yes, Carrie, it's our baby--our beautiful baby."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, but the motion seemed awkward as his wife backed away slightly, making it harder for his lips to touch her skin.
After he'd pulled back, he might even have asked her about it had the nurse not walked in with paperwork to sign. As the nurse stood next to the bed and started rattling off the discharge instructions, Carrie looked ahead blankly; she didn't understand a word the nurse was saying.
The nurse, too, seemed a little apprehensive; she probably knew Carrie wasn't getting her words, and when it came time to sign, she looked first at Carrie and then at Robbie.
Robbie reached for the clipboard. "Dr. Libet is aware she's not comprehending everything. I'll sign the forms."
The nurse nodded and gratefully handed them over, hovering until he'd scrawled his signature in all the right places. He was aware of the nurse watching him, almost like she was expecting something from him. It seemed most people were expecting something. He just didn't know what or why.
His fingers trembled as he handed the pen and the forms back to the nurse. She looked at the forms and headed for the door.
"Can she get dressed now?"
"Of course," the nurse said, giving Robbie a pathetic smile. He was glad right then that he hadn't grown up with her. He didn't have a clue what had made her move to this small town, but at least she didn't have the satisfaction of seeing this moment as some sort of triumph the way other people he'd gone to high school with might have.
Waiting until the nurse had slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her, Robbie turned his attention to the small suitcase sitting in the corner, the one he'd insisted Carrie pack just in case. He'd carried it around in his trunk for two weeks and hadn't given it much thought. He'd only asked her to pack it because he was somewhat superstitious and figured the best way to prevent her going into labor early was to be prepared--yet nothing could have prepared him for this.
He forced a smile and turned to his wife, glad they were finally going to escape this depressing room. Two days here had felt like an eternity. Of course, part of him wondered what it was going to be like at home with her silence breathing around them, as if a stranger had moved in.
"Are you ready to get dressed?" He purposely made his tone warm and inviting as he walked over, his boots tapping the floor lightly.
He waited for an answer, but she only stared blankly at him, so he waited a moment more. No words.
"All right, then," he finally said, feeling a lump form in his throat. He wanted to get everything out in the open--to cut deeply into whatever was killing them like this and gut it--but he knew this wasn't the time or place. He also had a feeling that no matter how much he raised or quieted his voice, Carrie wasn't going to give him any answers until she was ready. He just needed her to be ready now, before he went mad.
Sighing, he walked to the suitcase and hefted it onto the chair so he could unzip it. As he drew back the top flap, he wasn't prepared for the small, stuffed bear on top--the first toy he'd bought for the baby-to-be. He could still remember standing in Galmore's, looking over all the plush toys, settling on this one because he'd known Carrie would love it more than the baby would. As much as he loved his future child, there was never going to be anyone he loved more than Carrie. He knew that like he could tell which direction the wind was blowing on a stormy day or when rain was about to fall despite the sun still burning in the sky, knew it the way he knew his heart was going to take its next beat. She was that much a part of him, and this was killing him.
With trembling fingers, he nudged the bear aside, sorting through the clothing, past the nightgown and robe until he'd found a pair of maternity shorts, a t-shirt, and the underthings for her to wear. He gritted his teeth and pulled them out before zipping the suitcase and turning back to her.
"You'll need these."
He carried them over to the bed and gently laid them in front of her.
"Thank you." Once again, her words were mangled, and Robbie wasn't sure he was ever going to get used to that, not when Carrie's voice had normally been as smooth as honey. It just didn't go with her.
"You're welcome," he managed, watching her awkwardly scoot to the edge of the bed. Without thinking, he moved to help her, but it to no avail. She avoided his touch, something Carrie just didn't do.
"Can you get yourself dressed?" He fought to keep a neutral tone, but it was so damned hard, especially since she didn't answer again.
So he waited, watching her stand, his fingers splayed slightly as she tottered unevenly. He even started to steady her, but as she caught her balance at the last moment, he stopped himself and curled his fingers into fists just to keep them where they were.
Aside from her obviously pregnant belly, she was still thin. It actually looked as though she were carrying a basketball, something he thought was just a joke until he'd seen his own wife's body blossom with new life.
Although Carrie had become somewhat awkward as the baby had grown, she seemed much more so as she clutched the fresh clothing and started to change.
"Perhaps you should go in there and get dressed," Robbie suggested, pointing toward the bathroom.
"Okay." She waddled towards the bathroom. Shaking his head, he started back over to the chair to wait it out when he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," he called.
That same nurse entered, pushing a wheelchair into the room. She glanced around, obviously searching for Carrie.
"My wife is getting dressed."
At that, the nurse nodded. "Oh. Okay. Well, whenever she's ready, I'll wheel her down, if you want to pull the car to the front ramp."
"I can do that." Robbie headed for the door but stopped at the threshold, his fingers gripping the jamb. "But you might keep an eye on her. She's a little...unsteady."
The nurse nodded, her hands lingered on the grips of the wheelchair. "I'll just stay here while you go down."
Robbie grabbed Carrie's purse--the only thing that had come out of the wreck besides Carrie. He thought about g
rabbing the suitcase, but Carrie would need the shoes inside. In order to take care of that, he walked back to the suitcase, unzipped it, and pulled out the shoes, setting them on the bed. Then he zipped the suitcase and headed down the corridor.
As he walked, he felt many gazes settling on him, and when he looked up to meet them, he found both the doctors and nurses watching him--none of whom he'd met, yet they seemed to recognize him, which left Robbie feeling more than a little unsettled--so much so he glanced downward and busied himself finding keys in his pocket.
Why does everyone keep staring at me, Robbie thought, clenching his jaw. Knowing he wasn't going to get an answer, he forced himself to pick up his pace and trudge to the truck, grateful to escape the constant public scrutiny which made no sense. Thankfully, by the time he'd reached the truck and numbly driving to the rounded entry at the front of the hospital, he felt he could breathe again.
As he waited for his wife, he considered heading back inside to check on Carrie, but the thought of all those watchful eyes stopped him cold. It was one thing to hold his emotions together because of Carrie's wreck but quite another to know that all those people were watching him, perhaps expecting him to fall apart.
It turned out to be just as well because Robbie had only been waiting for Carrie for about five minutes when he saw the nurse push his wife through the revolving door. His breath caught as he saw Carrie in the wheelchair, staring around her. She seemed not to recognize much of the world. A small smile crossed his face as he saw what could only be described as a sense of wonder claim his wife. Her lips turned into a smile as she watched white drifts float through the air from a nearby cottonwood, some of which landed in her hair. Even though he rejoiced in the sudden, unexpected emotional reaction, he didn't have a clue why it had happened. Carrie had been here before, and there was nothing new or beautiful about this place--well, except maybe for the cottonwood seeds blowing off the trees. The rest of the old county hospital had seen much better days and definitely needed an overhaul.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to get out and walk around the truck to open the door for Carrie as he always had. It didn't matter if things were strained between them. He had to hope that by maintaining the status quo, Carrie would eventually settle back into her old habits.
The nurse stopped the wheel chair just in front of the vehicle and applied the brakes before moving the feet rests to give Carrie an easier way to move.
"Are you ready to get up?" the nurse asked, brushing hair from her eyes even though the slight breeze pushed it right back where it had been.
Robbie watched Carrie's face and frowned as she looked at the nurse but didn't answer, at least not with her voice. Carrie seemed not to be able to remember even a simple word like yes. Her feet, however, touched the concrete, and as Carrie started to stand, Robbie edged a little closer, ready to catch her should she lose her balance, not caring that the nurse was close enough; Robbie needed to be as close as possible, just in case. He knew it was because he hadn't been close enough when the wreck might have killed her. That was something he'd probably never get over.
As Robbie had expected, Carrie stumbled slightly, and he was ready: he caught her elbow, steadying her. As his fingers touched her bare skin, Robbie's mind was suddenly filled with a million memories of times they'd shared, from when they'd been teenagers and kissed for the first time to finding out she was pregnant. It was like there were a million little movies running through his mind, like he was dying and parts of his life, the very best parts, flashed before him.
He gasped and reeled, trying to understand what was happening.
"Are you all right?"
The nurse turned her watchful gaze on him as Carrie looked away and climbed into the truck.
"I'm fine." He drew his fingers into fists and released them, still struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Had it been real?
"You need to buckle your seatbelt, dear," the nurse murmured, pointing.
Carrie’s fingers awkwardly reached for it, but she suddenly seemed not to know what to do. Normally, Robbie would have been right there to help, but he was still trying to come to grips with what had just happened, so it was the nurse who belted her in, and when she'd finished, she gave Robbie a half-hearted smile, something meant to relieve the sudden tension.
"Looks like you're both good to go."
"Yeah, I guess we are." Absently, Robbie nodded, giving another look at his wife, then he stepped back around the truck and got in, still numb. What had...that...been?
Instead of trying to make small talk or even pursuing conversation, Robbie went with the path of least resistance the whole drive home. Silence flourished between them, and he let it while trying to understand what he'd just experienced.
By the time he'd pulled onto the road along which the wreck had happened, he had started wondering about that, too. He constantly fluctuated between needing to see what was left of the car and really not wanting to know. In the end, needing to see the car won out, but it didn't matter. There were no telltale marks and the landscape seemed much the same. What had he expected? That the car would still be where Carrie had left it? No, a wrecker had surely taken it to the Clint's Salvage, and if Robbie were going to go look at it, he was going to have to go there to do it.
Once he realized he'd wasn't going to see anything that would tell him about the wreck, Robbie turned his focus back to getting them home as quickly as possible in the hope that, once Carrie had returned to a safe environment, surrounded by all the memories they'd created over the years, she'd get back to her old self.
She had to. He couldn't imagine otherwise.
Robbie pulled into the long dirt drive that led to their house, and while travelers might have seen the lake that spread out across their property, they wouldn't necessarily have seen the ranch-style home tucked away at the far end of the drive. The driveway was flanked by trees--lots of them--and that had afforded Robbie and Carrie much privacy, just the way they had both liked it. He was going to need lots of privacy with Carrie to understand what was going on, seeing as how no doctor seemed able to get to the heart of it.
Robbie pulled up to the brick house and parked the truck. As he glanced at Carrie, he saw she had fallen asleep again; she was probably pretty tired from all the chaos, and he couldn't blame her. Yes, he'd managed to sleep in the hospital, but not well. He was pretty exhausted, too.
Key in hand, Robbie walked to the front door and unlocked it, then swung the door open, figuring doing so would make it easier to get Carrie inside. Trudging back to the truck, he opened Carrie's door, carefully slipped her into his arms, and walked up the front path. She never woke, yet another thing that brought a smile to him. Carrie could sleep through anything.
A small blossom of hope flowered within him. Things could all somehow go back to the way they had been. He had to believe such were still possible, that whatever was affecting Carrie was temporary, and that the life they had created together would be much more permanent than anything that could come between them.
Once across the threshold, Robbie eased the door closed and proceeded through the house to their bedroom. Although it took a major balancing act, he managed to pull the cover down on their bed and ease Carrie into the mattress. As usual, she immediately curled onto her side, rolling into a ball.
For a moment, Robbie watched her, comforted by the ease of her breath and the peace that seemed to consume her while she slept. Without a word, he gently tucked the blanket around her body, crossed to the other side of the bed, and let himself fall into the peaceful dark of sleep.
Chapter Five
It was hours later when he woke, the room full of moonlight, and he wondered how he could have slept so soundly for so long. He blinked a couple of times, focusing his eyes, and turned his attention to the other half of the bed, where Carrie always slept.
It was empty.
Inhaling sharply, Robbie jerked to a sitting position and glanced around the room, searching. Car
rie was nowhere to be found.
"Carrie?" he called, rising quickly. He'd been so tired he hadn't even remembered to take off his boots, making it that much easier to shoot out of the room, headed for the kitchen. Perhaps she'd woken up hungry, which wouldn't be too far-fetched. Carrie's eating habits had been off as well--alternately ravenous and not. Unfortunatly, Robbie had a hard time predicting which it would be.
As he slipped down the hall, Robbie noticed the house was dark, which wasn't like Carrie. Even though she knew the layout just as well as he did and could usually maneuver quite well in the dark, she was hardly graceful enough to do so, what with her pregnancy so advanced, and she wouldn't normally have taken chance of tripping over something. No, Carrie should've turned on the lights.
"Carrie?" he called again, upping his pace to almost a run. He could feel his heart jack-hammering in his chest. Where the hell was she?
The kitchen, too, was dark, only the full moonlight pouring through the single window where he'd failed to shut the blinds. Never mind that he hadn't needed to. When he'd last been up, it had still been daylight.
He scanned the kitchen, knowing she wasn't there even before moving to the living room, the bathroom, and everywhere else, all in vain. For a moment, he leaned against a wall, trying to regroup. All this felt like a dream--a nightmare--and he wanted to just go back to bed where he hoped to find Carrie, yet he knew that no matter how much he wanted that, it would never happen.
He started to pull out his cell and call 911 when he thought of all the strange looks he'd gotten at the hospital. The last thing he wanted was to give them more ammunition. No, first he would look around outside, and then if he still couldn't find her, he'd call.
Robbie started just behind the house, knowing Carrie loved the rock ledge that overlooked the lake. She'd often told him it was one of her favorite places to sit and watch the moonlight dance on the water. That's where he hoped he to find her, yet the ledge was empty, barren even without her, and the only sound that broke the overwhelming silence was that of the water gently lapping the rocks.
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