You Belong to Me

by You Belong to Me (NCP) (lit)

  Max stepped back as if she had struck him a physical blow. "That wasn't the way it was and you damn well know it. Going to the gravel pit was your idea, if my memory serves me, so was making love."

  "We didn't make love, we rutted around in the back seat of a car like two animals in heat."

  Max's anger seemed to melt away. "You're tired and hungry and emotionally spent. After you've had a chance to rest and think this over you'll see things differently."

  His calm demeanor only fuelled Julie's rage. "Get out of my house."

  Max stared at her, as if he couldn't believe the words she was saying. "You don't mean that."

  Julie's anger cooled to a frigid fury. "I meant every word I said." She moved around him and walked toward the hall. "I'm going to take a shower. When I get back, I want you gone."

  "Julie, please."

  She didn't even bother looking back. "Goodbye Max."

  Chapter Six

  For Julie, getting through the next few days was like living through a prolonged nightmare. Trying to undo in a day wedding plans she had been making for months was an impossible task even with Royce's sporadic and reluctant help. After dealing with a disgruntled florist, a caustic caterer, several disappointed attendants and a not-too-sympathetic priest, there still remained the monumental task of contacting would-be guests. Julie spent hours on the phone; still she was unable to reach in person many of the names on the list. She decided to go to the church and intercept any stray guests who may have failed to get her message. When she told Royce what she planned, he asked, "Can you manage alone?"

  Julie understood Royce's ambivalence. He realized the events of the past few days weren't her fault, still he felt some animosity toward her. This was a riff that hopefully time would heal. Reaching across the table she patted his hand. "I can manage." Then she asked, "How's Dan?"

  For a moment accusation leaped into Royce's eyes and then his expression softened. "Not well, I'm afraid."

  Damn Brett Morrison! And Damn Max Anderson! Together they had managed to turn Julie's well-ordered world upside down. "Is there anything I can do?"

  Moisture glistened in the corners of Royce's eyes. "No." He held on to Julie's hand. "I keep forgetting this hasn't been easy for you either."

  Julie smiled with more bravado than she felt. "I'm doing all right." But she wasn't. In the span of a few hours she had lost most of those intangibles she held dear and she missed them. She missed the closeness she shared with Royce. She missed Shannon more than she had thought possible but most of all she missed the atmosphere that she had struggled for years to create and sustain, the sense that all was right in her little universe.

  Julie waited as the days passed for Shannon to come to her or call her, or even to write a letter. None of those things occurred. By the next weekend she was forced to admit that Shannon didn't intend to make that first move toward reconciliation and Julie wasn't about to make the first overture.

  "Stalemate," she whispered, as she picked up the phone and briefly entertained the idea of calling Max. Then her mind began to untie knotted old memories. Ten years ago after their bitter quarrel Max had refused to speak to her or answer any of her messages. Could she survive rejection again? The answer was an unequivocal no. She dropped the instrument back into its resting place, turned and walked slowly away.

  Julie spent Saturday and most of Sunday puttering around the house doing menial, humdrum tasks. She had cleaned her cabinet shelves and was putting down new shelf paper when the telephone rang. She hurried to answer. Maybe Shannon had decided to call. Lifting the receiver, she held her breath, "Hello."

  A masculine voice sounded in her ear. "Julie? This is Robert."

  "Oh." Julie's disappointment sounded in her voice. "Hello, Robert."

  Robert cleared his throat. "I hope I didn't presume too much, after all that's happened. But you did say I could call you this week."

  So he wasn't who she wanted him to be. He had called. That was more than anyone else she knew had bothered to do. "How are you?"

  "I'm fine. How are you? I don't know if I should offer condolences or congratulations."

  For the first time in days, Julie smiled. "Neither and I'm glad you called."

  "So am I." After a moment's hesitation, Robert asked, "Would you like to go out with me next Saturday?"

  Without a moment's hesitation, Julie replied, "Yes, of course."

  "Would you still like to go to San Antonio for dinner and dancing?"

  "That sounds wonderful."

  Over the next two months, the Saturday evenings Julie spent with Robert became her only release from an otherwise routine and lonely existence. With each passing day it became more apparent that Shannon had no intention of trying to contact her mother. Royce remained distant and aloof. Max seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.

  And Robert, bless him, made no amorous advances. He seemed satisfied to keep their Saturday evenings together on a purely platonic basis.

  As the days unfolded into weeks and the weeks ran to months another suspicion slowly became a frightening reality. A summer cold, a skipped monthly period, a queasy stomach, an ache in her breasts--with each new symptom the truth became more evident. When a second menstrual period failed to materialize Julie was forced to face a distressing truth; she was pregnant. After a few moments of sheer hysteria, she sat down and tried to calm her racing heart. What would she do? Where did she go from here? "Don't panic," she told herself, as a host of half-forgotten memories rushed in to torment her. "And forget about the past."

  But her mind wouldn't let her memories alone. In one brief moment ten years fell away. Once again she was seated in a tiny office staring across a desk into the face of a kind stranger. "Abortion? It's such an ugly word. I don't know if I can." Even as she had spoken those words, she had realized that this was not a matter of choice. She was so strapped financially that she couldn't afford to miss even a day of work. There was Shannon to care for and her mother's lingering illness to consider. She'd lose her educational grant if she dropped out of college....

  The compassionate counselor interrupted her dismal train of thought to ask, "Have you contacted the baby's father? If he could help...."

  Julie couldn't think of what was growing inside her as a baby; if she did she'd never be able to do what she knew she must. "I can't find the father."

  "Maybe there's a relative or a friend who will help you through this."

  The sad truth was that there was no one. "The only family I have is my mother and she's dying with cancer."

  With a shake of her head, Julie forced her mind back to the present. She had kept her sanity through all these years by refusing to dwell on the past. At this moment the future didn't look any too bright either. Then she would concentrate on the present. Her initial obligation was to break with Robert. She was carrying another man's child. It wouldn't be fair to continue seeing him. She would tell him next Saturday night that she couldn't see him again. With that decision came a small measure of peace.

  That task of ending her relationship with Robert proved to be much more difficult than Julie had thought it would be. Throughout the evening she looked for an opportunity to tell him she couldn't see him again. She never found it. They were driving down Highway 35 toward Summerville before Julie found the courage to broach the subject. How she hated repaying kindness with cruelty. "I enjoyed tonight." Good heavens! That was no way to begin breaking off a relation ship.

  Robert glanced briefly in her direction. "I'm glad. I did, too." The lights from a passing car played across his smiling face. "There's something I've been wanting to say to you."

  "I have something to tell you too."

  Elation sounded in his voice. "You do?"

  She was doing a rotten job of this. "Robert, I don't know how to put this but..." She was about to alienate the only friend she had left in the world.

  The lights from the dashboard cast menacing shadows across Robert's face. "I don't like the sound of th
is." They had pulled off the highway and onto a stretch of deserted farm-to- market road. "Is it bad news?

  "Not really." The tone of Julie's voice said it was.

  "Am I doing something wrong?" Robert looked briefly in her direction. "Tell me what it is and I'll stop."

  The last thing she wanted was for him to be humble and contrite. He should rant at her, or at least be coldly indifferent. "Something has come up over the last few months..." Her voice died on the end of a little intake of breath.

  Robert slowed the car and turned to stare at her. "Don't do this to me, Julie." His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel. "Not again, please."

  He was frightening her. She had not dreamed he would be so wounded even before she could begin to explain. "I don't want to hurt you, but...."

  Robert interrupted, "Then please don't."

  They were so engrossed in conversation that neither of them saw the bend in the road or the huge oak tree that suddenly loomed before them. The last thing Julie heard before she lost consciousness was the sound of screeching tires and grinding metal. The last thing she felt before a flash of excruciating pain burst inside her head was the force of a moving automobile striking an immovable oak tree with sudden power and solid impact.

  It was like traveling through a dark and dismal tunnel as slowly, painfully, consciousness returned. Julie opened her eyes and tried to pull the swaying room into focus. The smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils. Her head ached and her neck hurt. From a far distance someone was calling her name. "Mrs. Anderson? Can you hear me?"

  Julie dragged her fingers across her aching forehead. "I can hear you."

  A slim young woman wearing a green hospital garb was standing over her. In soothing, purely professional tones, she said, "I'm Doctor Greenway, Mrs. Anderson. How do you feel?"

  "Lousy." Memories of the accident splintered through the pain in Julie's head. She closed her eyes against the brightness of the ceiling light. "Where's Robert?"

  Doctor Greenway patted Julie's shoulder, causing her to notice for the first time that she had been stripped of her clothing and was wearing a skimpy hospital gown. Doctor Greenway pushed her back down onto the bed. "Don't try to get up, Mrs. Anderson. You're not up to that yet."

  Julie realized the doctor was right. She stopped her struggle. "Where is Mr. Morgan?"

  "He's in the waiting room."

  Julie was almost afraid to ask. "Then he's all right?"

  "As all right as a man with a broken arm and multiple scrapes and abrasions can be.

  You were both very lucky. Mister Morgan could have broken his neck instead of his arm and you could have hurt your baby instead of your head."

  Her baby, what a strange ring those words carried. "Is the baby all right?"

  "The baby is fine." Doctor Greenway was moving toward the door. "Mister Morgan is waiting to see you. I'll tell him you're awake." Before Julie could respond she was out the door and gone.

  Julie looked around her. How long had she been in this place? For quite a while, obviously; the sun was high in the sky telling her that the morning was far spent.

  A rap on the door made her call, "Come in."

  Robert came into the room. "The doctor said you were awake." His left arm was in a cast. A purple bruise covered one side of his face. Deep scratches ran the length of his right arm. "How are you feeling?"

  Julie pushed the button that raised her bed to a sitting position. "I haven't been awake long enough to decide yet."

  Robert came across the room and perched on a chair near her bed. "You gave me quite a scare. But Doctor Greenway says you're going to be all right."

  With wakefulness came remembrance. Royce must be wondering what had happened to her. Julie's eyes scanned the room, searching for a telephone. "I have to make some calls."

  Robert grimaced as he grasped his cast with his free hand. "I called Royce Garner. He says he'll be here as soon as someone comes to take his place in the kitchen."

  Julie sighed her relief. "Thank you. I wouldn't want him to worry." She looked into Robert's pain-filled eyes. "Does your arm hurt?"

  His smile was disarming. "Not half as much as my heart does, how's your head?"

  "It aches." Because she had been lonely and hurt, Julie had used and injured this gentle, sensitive man. "I'm sorry, Robert."

  "It's not your fault. I assumed too much and took too much for granted."

  That he would be noble and understanding was more than she could bear. "I'd feel better if you yelled at me."

  With an effort Robert stood to his feet. "I could never do that. Can we still be friends?"

  "If you still want me for a friend, yes."

  "I do." He waved with his good hand, "Goodbye, Julie." Turning he walked slowly through the door and then glanced over his shoulder and smiled before disappearing from sight.

  A half hour later Royce rushed in carrying a bouquet of yellow roses and wearing a worried expression. "I came as soon as I could." His anger of the past two months had vanished, to be replaced by genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

  She had her old friend back. Julie assured him, "I'm all right."

  "Robert said there was an accident. What happened?" Royce laid the roses on the table beside her bed. "I brought a peace offering."

  "There's no need for that." Royce had every reason to feel hurt and angry.

  "Yes, there is," Royce argued, "I've acted like a jackass for the past couple of months."

  There was no denying that statement. Julie smiled. "I couldn't agree more."

  A self-effacing grin twisted Royce's mouth. "Can you forgive me?"

  Of course she could and she told him so and then added. "We've both had a bad time."

  Royce shook his head. "When Robert called and told me you'd been injured in an accident, I realized what a jerk I'd been. Thanks, Julie, for being so understanding."

  Julie wondered if he would return that understanding when he learned of her present plight. She shrugged and then smiled. "What are friends for?"

  They talked amiably for several minutes before Royce glanced at his watch. "It's almost time for the noon rush. I have to get back to the restaurant."

  Julie reached for the call button pinned to her bed. "I'll get someone to fetch my clothes and go with you."

  Royce lifted one hand. "You can't go home yet. Doctor Greenway says you have to be monitored for the next twenty-four hours."

  Julie dropped the button. "You talked with Doctor Greenway?"

  "She talked to me. I listened. She says you're in no condition to leave the hospital yet."

  Julie wondered just how much the good doctor had told Royce about her condition. "What else did Doctor Greenway say?"

  "Not much." Royce backed toward the door. "She did say you could go home in the morning. I'll come for you tomorrow around eleven."

  Julie protested. "You can't do that. What about the noon rush?"

  "Everything's been taken care of." Royce stopped in the doorway. "Rest now, I'll see you in the morning."

  Julie let her bed down and closed her eyes but she couldn't rest. She would have to tell Royce about her pregnancy and the sooner the better. She should ask Doctor Greenway for the name of a good obstetrician and see him immediately. This was going to strain her budget. A sudden wave of depression took her. She was too old for this. How in the world could she manage a baby and work every day? And that was only the beginning. How would she cope at her advanced age, with raising a toddler, training a preschooler, helping another child begin kindergarten...?

  She must have slept. A nurse calling her name made Julie open her eyes. "Mrs. Anderson, it's time for lunch." The nurse set a tray on the table beside Julie's bed and with a swish of her starched uniform, left the room.

  Julie drank the orange juice on her lunch tray and then lay back down and drifted off to sleep again.

  This time it was Doctor Greenway who awakened her. "Mrs. Anderson?" She nodded toward the man who had accompanied her into the room. "Th
is is Doctor Lester. I've asked him to check you over.

  Doctor Lester was a middle-aged man with dark skin and tired eyes. "May I?" He began to probe Julie's head with his fingers, making inaudible little grunting sounds under his breath as he did so.

  When he had finished his cursory examination Julie asked, "Well?"

  Doctor Lester shook his head. "You've had a nasty blow. There doesn't seem to be any permanent damage, but only time can confirm that."

  "How much time," Julie asked.

  "Another twenty-four hours should do it."

  Julie lay back down. "Whatever you say, Doctor."

  Doctor Greenway intervened. "Because of your pregnancy I'm advising a couple of days of bed rest at home after you're discharged from the hospital." She laid her hand on Julie's stomach. "How far along are you, Mrs. Anderson?"

  Julie did some quick mental calculating. She had been pregnant two months, three days and approximately ten hours. "About two months."

  Doctor Greenway patted her arm. "Rest, I'll see you later." The two doctors walked away, conversing in low tones as they made their way out the door and down the hall.

  Julie rang for an orderly and asked him to bring her a Summerville newspaper. If she had to be here, why not make the stay as pleasant as possible? Settling back on her pillow she opened her paper and saw staring back at her from the front page a vivid account of her accident, complete with graphic pictures of the damaged front of Robert's wrecked automobile wrapped around the trunk of a huge oak tree. She began to read.

  As her eyes scanned the page, she realized this was not an account, but an embellishment. Gripping and vivid phrases such as, near fatal one-car accident, driver sustained serious bodily injury, and passenger in the hospital in undetermined condition, jumped out at her. She smiled, thinking that the editor of the Summerville Sentinel not only had a flair for the dramatic he also had a vivid imagination.