Kelsey munched on the crackers one after the other.
“Breath deep,” Holly instructed. “Through your nostrils. Nice and slow.”
“I feel so stupid,” Kelsey moaned. “I’m...I’m really sorry.”
“No need to apologize to me,” Holly assured her. “I know how these things can strike right out of the blue.” She picked up Kelsey’s teacup and headed into the kitchen. “I’ll put on some more water. I think another cup of tea might do it. Just keep breathing.”
After half a stack of crackers and several more cups of tea, Kelsey began to feel better. “I am really sorry.”
“Will you quit apologizing?” Holly insisted, sitting in the chair across from Kelsey again. She sipped her tea. “Now, maybe it was all my talk of morning sickness earlier, but I get the definite feeling there might be something more to that green face than just an upset tummy.”
Kelsey hesitated. It didn’t seem right that she should tell her neighbor before her own family heard the news. Still, it seemed foolish to try to make another explanation after what had happened.
“I’m only a little over four weeks along,” she said, taking a deep breath. “We hadn’t planned on saying anything to anyone—you know, for awhile yet.”
Holly set down her cup. She leaned forward, a grin breaking wide across her face. “You’re not going to believe this.”
Kelsey stopped as she reached for another cracker. “What?”
“We weren’t going to say anything for a while yet, either.”
Kelsey’s eye’s widened. “You mean you’re...”
Holly sat back in the chair and giggled like her two-year-old daughter. “Five weeks.”
“Oh, my God,” Kelsey shrieked, dropping the cracker and covering her mouth with her hands. “You’re right, I don’t believe it.”
They started comparing ailments and complaints, weight gain and sore breasts, leg cramps, heartburn, doctors and diapers—the kind of baby talk all expectant mothers engage in.
“This is almost too much of a coincidence,” Holly said. “Do you suppose it was something in the drinking water last month? Or the phases of the moon? I mean, I don’t know about you and Coop, but this sort of took Christian and me by surprise. We’re thrilled, but surprised.”
“Well, Coop was pretty surprised,” Kelsey said, remembering the shocked look on his face. “Me, on the other hand—I know this sounds crazy, but I swear, I knew the moment it happened.”
“I don’t think that sounds crazy at all,” Holly contended. “After all, a woman knows her body better than anybody.”
“Yeah,” Kelsey said. “I suppose you’re right—but get a doctor to believe that.”
“So tell me, how did Coop take the news? I mean, if he wasn’t expecting it, he must have really been bowled over.”
Kelsey thought back to that afternoon three days earlier. “He really was. We’d been so distracted by the...”
Holly looked up when Kelsey stopped.
“Distracted?”
Kelsey drew in a deep breath. The accident wasn’t something she liked talking about, but it wasn’t something she needed to hide, either. “I had an...an accident several months ago—during the storm. It was pretty serious.”
“Oh, Kelsey, my God,” Holly said, the smile fading from her face. “I remember seeing the cast, but I had no idea.”
“I’m fine now,” Kelsey assured her. “Really, but I admit, it was touch and go there for a while. I scared my whole family pretty good—especially Coop.”
“I can understand that.”
“Anyway, he’s been so wonderful since I was released from the hospital—taking care of me, doing everything. I don’t think he was really thinking in terms of a baby.”
“I’ll bet he’s walking on air now.”
Kelsey smiled. “I think he’s pretty excited.”
“Well, take full advantage,” Holly advised goodnaturedly. “The first time around Christian didn’t want me to do anything. He cooked, he cleaned, he shopped—it was wonderful. Now, if he lets me sleep in an extra hour on Saturday mornings, he figures he’s done his. part.”
Kelsey paused, thinking. “Uh...actually this isn’t the first time around for us.”
Holly looked up. “Oh?”
“We had a baby before—a little boy,” Kelsey said, her voice turning wistful. Despite how painful it was to remember, the memory was hers, and she never wanted to lose it again. “He came early and lived only a few hours.”
“Oh, Kelsey, how awful for you,” Holly said immediately. “I’m so sony.”
“It was pretty rough for a while,” Kelsey confessed. Suddenly she had that breathless, funny feeling again—but this time it had nothing to do with morning sickness or the baby in her womb. A picture appeared in her mind. She saw doctors standing around her hospital bed, heard them talking to her, talking to Coop, and she remembered a terrible feeling of depression.
“Then it must make this baby all the more special,” Holly was saying. “For you and for Coop.”
“Yes,” Kelsey whispered, the picture in her mind fading into blackness again. “Yes, it does.”
“Was this long ago? The first pregnancy.”
Kelsey drew in a deep breath, letting the feeling go and bringing her thoughts to the present. “A couple of years ago. Just before the divor—”
Holly glanced up when Kelsey abruptly stopped. “Before what?” she asked innocently.
It came back in a rush, hitting her in the face. “The divorce. Oh, my God.”
“I’ve decided,” Coop said, leaning back in the highbacked leather chair. “I’m going to tell her everything.”
Gloria Crowell pulled a small spiral notepad from the center drawer of her desk. “Okay, let’s talk about it.”
“No.” Coop shook his head adamantly, determined not to let the psychiatrist or anyone else sway him from the decision he’d made. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to tell Kelsey the truth. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Yes, I can see that.” The doctor tossed her pencil onto the desk. “I take it you’ve thought about this?”
“I’ve thought of nothing but this for the past four days,” Coop pointed out.
“Okay,” Dr. Crowell conceded. “So you think this is the right time, with the baby and everything?”
“I think it’s the time because of the baby and everything.”
Gloria Crowell turned to Mannie Cohen, who sat in the chair next to Coop perusing the thick file she’d given him. “How about it, Doctor? Physically, is she going to be able to weather this?”
Mannie Cohen closed the file and lowered it to his lap. “Physically she’s fine—rested, healthy.”
“And the risk to the baby if she’s told the truth?”
Mannie rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, tenting his hands together, glancing toward Coop. “If you’re looking for me to tell you that once she knows everything, no matter what her reaction is it won’t hurt the baby—I can’t do that, but...” He paused for a moment, flexing his fingers. “For what it’s worth, I agree. I think it’s time she knows.”
“Despite the risk?” Dr. Crowell asked.
Mannie picked up the file from his lap, sliding it across the desk toward her. “Your own file charts the improvement. Emotionally she’s much stronger, much less afraid.”
“Well, I can’t argue that,” Gloria said, leaning back in her chair. “She isn’t as frightened by the gaps in her memory.”
“No, she isn’t,” Coop concurred, shifting restlessly in the chair. “She wants the rest of her life back—even if it is painful.”
Gloria slowly sat up, turning to him. “And what about you, Coop? What do you want?”
“I want my life back, too,” he said after a moment. “I want my wife, my child. I want my marriage, I want us to raise our child together.”
“You don’t think telling her about the divorce sounds a little counterproductive to that?” Gloria asked.
&nb
sp; “Does it?” Coop snapped, rising to his feet. “What would you have me do? Let things go, continue to live like there’s nothing wrong? Let the baby be born and then lie to them both? When would you have me tell her, Doctor? The day the baby graduates from college?”
“Look, Coop,” Gloria said calmly. She made a nonchalant motion with her hand. “Sit down, please. I’m not the enemy—I’m really not. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here. We need to look at this from all sides, try to make an objective decision.”
“I’m telling you I’ve already made my decision,” Coop insisted stubbornly, ignoring her request. “There’s nothing to discuss. I’m going to tell her.”
“Even if that means you’ll lose her?” Mannie Cohen asked carefully.
Coop turned and looked at him, then slowly lowered himself to the chair. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“You weren’t so sure of that a few weeks ago in my office,” Mannie reminded him.
“A few weeks ago, there wasn’t a baby. A few weeks ago we weren’t living as man and wife.”
“You think that’s going to make a difference this time?” Mannie turned in the chair to look at him. “Don’t get me wrong—I tend to agree with you. This isn’t just about Kelsey and her recovery any longer. It’s gone way beyond that. There’s a new life to consider. But you said yourself you thought once she remembered, once she knew the truth, she would leave again. Are you prepared for that?”
“No.” Coop released a long, slow breath. He wasn’t angry any longer, just tired. “But I’m not going to let it happen that way this time.” He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the large credenza. He leaned against it, staring at the two doctors. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, a lot of time to go over what happened two years ago. I’m beginning to think I gave up too easily, that I didn’t fight hard enough to change Kelsey’s mind. She was in such pain after the baby, angry and confused—in a state of shock. She didn’t know what she wanted.”
“And you think she does now?” Gloria asked.
Coop looked at her. “I know what we now have between us. I know it’s real. And I know I’m going to fight like hell before giving it up again.”
Chapter 14
She pulled the cord furiously, sending the drapes flying and closing out the dull gray light of the late afternoon. She wanted it dark, as dark and as black as she could get it, so dark she couldn’t see what was in front of her, so dark she wouldn’t have to look at the truth.
She remembered all of it now—the baby, the complications, how poor her chances of conceiving were.
And the divorce.
Kelsey squeezed her eyes tight, feeling hot tears burning down her face. She still had trouble believing, still couldn’t accept what she knew was true. It was as though the earth had shifted and thrown everything off kilter, as though everything she had believed in had suddenly been thrown asunder. Only this morning she’d thought she had everything—a home, a husband, a baby on the way. Now what did she have?
She turned from the window, her gaze stopping at the new bed just a few feet away. She and Coop had shopped for that bed together. They had tested mattresses, compared prices and chosen just the right one. It was their bed, the bed they slept in, made love in—the bed they shared as husband and wife.
Except they weren’t husband and wife. They were divorced, had been divorced for over two years. This wasn’t her home. He wasn’t her husband. Coop had been deceiving her all this time—acting out, pretending, letting her believe they were still married. They all must have been in on it—Gloria, Mannie, her father, her family. What kind of nightmare was this?
She closed her eyes, feeling the burn of tears. Why did she have to remember? Why now, when she had been so happy, when she thought she was finally going to have what she always wanted? Why couldn’t the memories have stayed buried just a little while longer? Was she destined to always lose what she wanted most?
She squeezed her eyes even tighter, her hands balling into fists. She wanted to run, wanted to hide in the dark, to block out everything and forget again. She’d thought remembering the loss of her baby had prepared her to face the rest of it, that there could be nothing that would shock or hurt her again. How wrong she had been. Cooper Reed wasn’t her husband any longer, and that cut to the quick.
Coop. Her friend, her lover. He’d been so wonderful since the accident—so attentive and kind. What had he thought when he heard she believed they were still married? How shocked he must have been, how surprised and astonished. The wife who had turned him out of her life was now calling for him and needed his help.
She could almost chart in her mind how the events had progressed, how Gloria and the others had talked with him, convinced him of the importance of her remembering on her own. Why would he have agreed to such an elaborate charade? How could he have pretended all these weeks? Out of a feeling of obligation, out of pity?
Like segments of her scattered memories, the pieces were finally fitting into place. The empty house, the lengthy hospital stay, the separate bedrooms and that damn futon bed. Oh, God, she understood it all now. It hadn’t been a matter of adhering to doctor’s orders. It hadn’t been concern for her health or anxiety over her recovery. It had been the fact that they were no longer husband and wife.
She thought back to that night in the shower, thought of her bold actions and foolhardy attempts to seduce him. She wanted to die. How awful that must have been for him then, and how humiliating it was for her now. Time after time he’d rejected her, had let her down as gently as he could. The feeble excuses, the unreasonable concerns—they all made a pathetic sort of sense now.
She turned and walked out of the bedroom and down the long, dark hall, feeling humiliated. She passed the empty bedrooms, one after the other, remembering the plans they’d had, the children they’d anticipated. Only those hopes and dreams had died with their infant son. Their lives had taken a different direction after that, a different course.
The past had found her again. She could remember everything in detail now—the crushing blow of the baby’s death and the terrible depression she’d felt when the doctors had delivered the news about her slim chances of ever conceiving again. It had been more than she could take.
Coop had wanted a family. She knew how disappointed he’d been. On top of everything else, on top of the grief and the guilt, she’d felt like a complete failure, eaten up with self-pity. He’d wanted children, lots of children, and that could never happen because he’d been stuck with a barren wife. He’d deserved better. He’d deserved a wife who could give him what he wanted, a wife who could give him children, and she’d thought she never could.
“Oh, God.” She groaned, the tears tasting bitter on her tongue. Her hand drifted to her belly. What kind of perverse joke was being played on her? What kind of grotesque farce was being carried out? She’d been given the child only to discover she no longer had the man.
Staring through the gloom of the empty living room, she thought of the furniture that once had been there, the furniture that was now crowded into her small apartment in Santa Ynez. This house wasn’t her home, wasn’t their home—and hadn’t been for a very long time. She couldn’t stay here any longer. It felt cold and empty—as cold and empty as she felt inside.
She rushed into the bedroom, yanked open the closet doors and pulled her clothes to the floor. They were her clothes, her belongings. She remembered wearing them, buying them. They belonged in the cramped closet in her bedroom in Santa Ynez, not here, not in Coop’s house, not in the house where he had taken pity on her and lived out a lie for the last two months.
She pulled out a large suitcase from the back of the closet and carried it to the bed. Slowly, she began to gather up her clothes, folding them and stacking them neatly inside. She remembered the first time she’d packed to leave this house, remembered how lost and angry she’d felt. Her baby had just died, she’d disappointed her husband, and her hopes had been dashed.
She had practically pushed Coop into a divorce after that, had wanted him away from her and out of her life. It had never been a matter of not loving him, but rather a matter of loving him too much. She’d loved him too much to saddle him with a woman who could never give him what he wanted.
She sat on the edge of the bed. The child inside her was still too small for any outward sign to show—the child she and Coop had made, the child her doctors had said would never be. The marriage might be over, the charade at an end, but the baby inside her was real, and it was growing.
She remembered Coop’s reaction when he learned about the baby, remembered his stunned silence and look of shocked surprise. No wonder he’d been speechless and confused. Pregnancy wouldn’t have even been a consideration when he’d taken her to bed. He might have agreed to pretend being her husband, but a baby hadn’t been part of the bargain.
Coop. Maybe he’d only been trying to help. Maybe he had been concerned about helping her regain her memory, but she couldn’t help feeling betrayed. How could he have kept the truth from her all this time? How could he have told her he loved her, made love to her, made her believe she was his wife? How could he have made it all up?
“Kelsey?” Coop slipped the key out of the lock and shut the front door behind him. “Kelsey? Sweetheart, where are you?”
He’d headed right home after the meeting in Gloria’s office, feeling better than he had in a very long time. He knew what he wanted, knew what he had to do to get it, and after so many weeks floundering in uncertainty, the certainty was almost liberating.
He tossed his keys on the hall stand and he headed for the kitchen. “Kelsey?”
It wasn’t even five yet, but the thick, heavy fog hanging low to the ground had blocked what little sunlight remained, making the house dark and full of shadows. He peered into the breakfast nook, seeing the teacups and crackers on the table.
“Kelsey?” he called again, glancing through the nook and into the empty kitchen. “Babe? You home?”
Mind Over Marriage Page 19