Kim took another deep breath. “Jittery, like you said I would. My hands are sort of shaky and I feel really anxious.”
Jill nodded as the doctor made notes on her chart. “Par for the course, I’m afraid.”
“I’m encouraged by how much things have slowed down here,” the doctor said. “Hopefully it’ll only take one more dose. I’ll be back in another thirty minutes to see how you’re doing.”
After the second injection lit her leg afire once more, Kim found it harder to keep at bay the thoughts that had been creeping into her mind since arriving at the hospital. She stared at Rick, oblivious as he watched television, and wished he would leave. If only the options the triage nurse had given her hadn’t been so extreme—if only she’d offered to send him home and tell him to come back tomorrow, so she could have some time alone. That would have been perfect. It wasn’t that she wanted him to leave completely. She just needed time to think, and it was getting harder and harder to do that with him around.
Thirty minutes came and went, and when the doctor returned he didn’t like what he saw. “They’re still coming, and haven’t slowed down any more. I’d like to admit you overnight so we can keep an eye on you and make sure we’re able to get this under control.” He looked to Rick. “Why don’t you go home, Mr. Allen. If things pick up again we can give you a call, but I doubt they will, and trust me, you don’t want to sleep on that chair tonight if you don’t have to. Save that experience for when your wife comes back here to deliver.”
Before he had a chance to argue, Kim added her own argument. “You’ve got work in the morning. This isn’t worth missing it for, and if you sleep here you won’t feel rested enough in the morning. I’m just going to be sleeping anyway.” She smiled, assuring him their secret was safe.
Rick frowned, and Kim knew he was weighing his options—stay and risk looking controlling, or go and risk her spilling their secret.
“We’ll let you two talk it over,” the doctor said, ushering Jill out to the hall and pulling the door partially closed.
“It’s alright,” Kim said. “Honestly, it’s fine. Go home.”
Rick ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Kim.”
“I know. Go get some sleep. I’ll call you when they’re ready to release me.”
Rick stared at her, and she felt like he could see all the way to her soul. Her jitters multiplied. “Stop it,” she said, trying to smile. “Are you trying to burn a hole in my head with that look?”
Rick sucked in a breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Alright. Fine. Feel better.” He pulled his jacket from the back of the chair, then kissed her. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
He kissed her once more, then left the room.
Kim stared at the doorway, waiting for him to reappear. Surely it couldn’t be that easy? He’d be back, if not immediately, then within an hour or two, certainly.
But with each minute that passed while she was blessedly alone, she felt some of the anxiety slip away. Jill came back now and then to check on her, bring her more simple treats, and later another shot of terbutaline. But despite the continuing contractions, Kim had a sense of peace about the baby. It wouldn’t come anytime soon; she knew it. It was just buying her time alone, creating a reason for her to stay in the hospital and, more importantly, for her to be alone without Rick.
She needed to think.
Jill left again and shut the door behind her. Kim turned off the television, which she’d kept on to distract herself with until she was ready. There wasn’t silence, per se—the monitor beside her beeped now and then, pages for doctors could be heard in the hallway, and there were groans of a woman in labor in the room next door. But there was silence enough for her to listen to her heart and hear what it had been trying to tell her all evening.
Rick did not want this baby.
She’d known it, deep down, since the night she’d told him, but he’d worked hard to convince her—and maybe himself—that it wasn’t true. But she couldn’t pretend anymore that they were in this together the way she wished they were. He was in because she was, not because he wanted to be. The things he’d bought for her when she first found out had been attempts to smooth over his first negative response—not an expression of how eager he was to become a father. He’d never expressed interest in coming to her appointments, even when she knew they’d be seeing the baby on the ultrasound and learning the sex.
He hadn’t been able to hide his disappointment when she’d come back from that appointment, either. If it had been a boy, maybe he would have managed to rouse some interest. But a girl wasn’t enough for him. He hadn’t even tried to be happy for Kim, who was over the moon at the thought of a little girl to dress in pink and adorn with barrettes. Instead he’d sneered at her joy, “Better hope she doesn’t take after you.” Kim had tried to let his unkind words roll off her back, but instead they stuck in her heart and twisted her elation to fear. What if she did?
But now, in the almost-silence, she allowed herself to face the truth that Rick did not love this baby. And if he did not love her, then he wouldn’t treat her nearly as well as he treated Kim. The baby was innocent; she didn’t deserve the beatings like Kim did, and Kim couldn’t bear to think of her suffering at Rick’s hand for her mother’s crimes.
Her tears flowed from a deep place, burning and aching as tight sobs squeezed her chest. She knew what she had to do, and were it not for the little life inside her that needed her mother to protect her, she would never even consider it. But it was her only option.
She had to leave Rick.
BY MORNING KIM’S CONTRACTIONS HAD STOPPED. Her last shot of terbutaline had been administered hours ago, but the doctor had insisted she stay long enough for them to be certain they weren’t going to start up again. It was nearly 3:00 p.m. by the time he gave her the okay to go home, and nearly 4:00 by the time Rick arrived to pick her up. “Take it easy for a week,” the doctor had told her. “Pelvic rest, feet up as much as you can, no housecleaning if you can help it, and try to stay home. After that, just pay attention to your body and try not to push yourself too much. And of course, come back if the contractions start again.”
She’d agreed, though she knew the contractions were done until the baby was ready to come. They’d served their purpose. Kim had her plan.
Now she was jittery because of her own thoughts. When Rick commented on her bouncing leg in the car, she blamed the trace bits of terbutaline still in her system. You’ve got to calm down. You can’t use that excuse for long. The chastisement was quickly followed by a more sly thought: Not that you’ll need excuses for much longer. One week. Just one more week. When planning last night she hadn’t realized the doctor would prescribe the week of rest, and it had deflated her a bit to know she couldn’t move ahead with things like she’d expected to. But a week wasn’t that long, and it still gave her plenty of time to get settled somewhere else before the baby came.
Rick had turned on the charm the minute he’d walked into her hospital room, and Kim was determined to resist it. Not because she didn’t believe it—there were times when he truly was wonderful to be with, far more of them, in fact, than times when he was not—but because it was going to be hard enough leaving him when she still loved him and knew he was trying to make her happy. Letting him soothe her heart would only make it that much more difficult. But even once they were home he kept it up. He came around to her side of the car and helped her out, then hooked her arm through his as they walked to the door. “So, I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said as he unlocked the security door.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I didn’t go to work today.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What? Why not?”
“Because I had something else I wanted to do.”
She chuckled. “So you just up and played hooky, huh?”
He led her down the hall to their apartment. “Well, I told the boss about you and he was pretty quick to
let me off for the day.”
“So what did you do instead?”
He grinned as he unlocked the door. “Follow me and you’ll see.”
She followed him through the apartment, shuttering the memories that popped up of what had transpired there almost exactly twenty-four hours ago. He paused before the closed office door. “Close your eyes.”
She obeyed and heard the door open. “Surprise!”
The first thing she saw was a pastel quilt of pink and lavender flowers. It was draped over the side of a white crib that was pushed against the far wall. Her incredulity grew as she noticed the matching area rug on the floor and the changing table that sat beside the window.
“Now, I know you probably had all sorts of decorating ideas already figured out, so if you don’t like the quilt and stuff we can take it back and get something else. I just wanted to have it all done up for you, so you could see what it would be like. I didn’t think it would look as impressive with just the crib and furniture.”
She didn’t know what to think. “Rick, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble.”
He took her hand and led her into the room. “I thought we could paint it too—maybe bring the quilt to the hardware store so we can match the colors. I almost never use this desk anymore, so we could sell it, maybe get a rocking chair to put here. I don’t know what to do with everything in the closet, but if we organize it a little better we’ll have some room to hang clothes, or we could put a dresser in there. Baby clothes are little, they don’t need that much room, right?”
Kim wiped tears from her eyes and squeezed his hand. “I just can’t believe you did this. I love the quilt. I love the crib. It’s exactly what I would have chosen.”
He pulled her into an embrace, his head resting atop hers. “I’m so glad you like it. I—I’m not good at this kind of thing.”
She knew he wasn’t referring to decorating. It was his way of apologizing, like the earrings and other gifts earlier in their relationship had been. But rather than allowing herself to dwell on the manipulation they represented, she focused instead on how he had chosen something for the baby and not just her. He could have gotten her a necklace, or a watch, but instead he’d decorated the nursery.
Maybe she’d misread his sentiment for the baby after all.
FIFTEEN
Joshua watched as Rick ushered Kim from their car toward the security door. He saw bruises on Kim’s face that hadn’t been there a couple days before when he’d passed her in the hall. It made him sick to think of what Rick was doing to her—and even more sick to know he was doing nothing about it.
That night after Maddie was in bed, he decided it was time to do something to let Kim know he was willing to help her. If something were to happen to her, or to her baby, he’d never be able to forgive himself for not stepping in sooner.
But what to say? How would she react if he just told her, point blank, he knew Rick was hitting her and that he could help her leave? Would she be offended? Would he ruin the fragile connection they had? And what if she said something to Rick?
The next morning Joshua flagged Debbie down in the hall. “Hey, do you have lunch plans?”
Debbie had looked surprised at his question. “Well, no—why?”
“I’ve got a bit of a problem on my hands, and I wanted to get your opinion.”
Concern was plain on her face. “It’s not about the budget, is it?”
“Oh, no—it’s a personal issue, not related to the shelter, though it may concern the shelter indirectly at some point.” Confusion replaced concern, and he sighed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be so cryptic. I can explain it all at lunch—if you’re willing, that is.”
Her smile made Joshua smile too. He didn’t often see one on her face. “Sure, I’ll come to your office when I finish the group therapy session, around 11:30.”
“Great. Thanks.” He watched her as she walked away, unaware that he was even doing it. He holed himself up in his office until lunch, alternating between work and idle thinking. More often than not his thoughts went to Debbie, and each time he became conscious of it he chastised himself. Focus, buddy; you don’t have a spare minute, not with two jobs.
When lunch came around he had to resist the urge to take her somewhere elegant and expensive. He knew how hard she worked, how much of a burden she carried for the women there and the success of the shelter. Wrinkles were already etching themselves at the corners of her eyes and mouth, and even makeup couldn’t disguise a perpetual look of intensity. He found himself wanting to be the one who helped her figure out how to relax.
This disturbed him.
“So, did you have someplace specific in mind?” she asked as they walked out to his car.
“Um, no, not really,” he lied.
She sighed. “I’ve had to make too many decisions today, I don’t have it in me to figure out lunch. Take me wherever you want. I like pretty much everything but Thai.”
He smiled. “I’m not a big Thai fan myself. Mexican okay?”
“Sure.”
Once they were settled into a booth and their orders had been taken, Debbie sat back and grinned. “So I’m dying to know more about this personal problem that sort of but not really affects the shelter.”
Joshua took a deep breath. He almost didn’t want to talk about it now, knowing how stressful her morning had apparently been. “Well—I think my neighbor is being abused by her fiancé.”
The smile fell from Debbie’s face and she leaned forward, intensity flaring once again. “What makes you think this?”
“The bruises, the occasional yelling I can hear through the wall.”
She winced. “You’re sure it’s not the TV you hear?”
“Well, no, I’m not sure, but I just have this feeling, you know?”
She nodded, looking sad. “Yes, I do.”
“What’s worse is that she’s pregnant. I can’t remember when she’s due, sometime soon, I think. And I’m pretty sure she has fresh bruises, so I don’t think he’s laying off because of the baby.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. I’m hoping you have some suggestions.”
“Wow, that’s a tricky situation. I get the sense you don’t know either of them very well.”
“Maddie and I moved in a few months ago, and I’ve only talked with Kim a few times. She won’t stop and talk to me unless I talk to her—I think she got in trouble for talking to me once, and I try not to engage her because I don’t want to stir anything up. But on the other hand, I want her to know there’s someone she can trust and turn to if needed. I’ve only talked to Rick twice. He seems nice enough but I just sense there’s an edge there. Frankly, I avoid him when I can.”
Debbie nodded. “That’s probably for the best. It’s entirely possible she ‘got in trouble’ for talking to you. He may see you as a threat, someone Kim could choose over him, his competition. But rather than going mano a mano with you and proving himself to be the better guy, he exerts his control over her—blames her for trying to seduce you, or for making you come on to her. He’s afraid to lose her, but instead of being the best guy she knows so that she doesn’t want to leave, he intimidates her, tells her no one else would ever want her, so that she feels like she has no choice but to stay with him.”
Joshua shook his head. “That’s messed up.”
“Very. He’s not a healthy person. There’s something broken there, big time.”
“Must be on her end, too, to stay with someone like that and believe the crap he tells her, right?”
Debbie swirled a chip in a puddle of salsa on her plate. “Actually, no—many fairly normal, mentally healthy women end up in abusive relationships. You’d be surprised. I’ve met college professors, entrepreneurs, socially vivacious, smart women who were sucked into a relationship with a man who systematically broke them down, convinced them that they didn’t deserve better than what they were getting, that no one else would ever love them. It doesn’t happen overnight, and s
ometimes the abuse is so infrequent that the women don’t even think it’s abuse. They blame it on a bad mood, on a lousy circumstance, and think it won’t happen again. Then, when it starts to happen more frequently, they’re so used to writing it off that they don’t see it for what it is. Sometimes they get out in time, sometimes they don’t.” She munched her chip, then shrugged. “Though sometimes it is a matter of two broken people coming together and one of them dominating the other. But regardless, the end result is the same.”
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, so what do I do? What can I do? My fear is that I’m going to get involved—I’m in a tight spot right now with my in-laws, who want to get custody of Maddie, and honestly, I’m scared of something happening that makes it look like I don’t provide a safe home for her. What if I help her and Rick finds out? What if he comes after me? Maybe I’m overreacting, but Maddie’s all I’ve got.”
Debbie gave him a sympathetic smile. “I understand your concern. Obviously you’d have to be very sure he’s not around, and it’s best if no one is around to witness the two of you talking so he’s not able to elicit information from anyone. Then, just let her know she can come to you if she needs any help. Don’t be pushy about it, but let her know you’re worried about her, and why, and that you’re there for her if she needs help. If you’re comfortable with it, offer her the option of storing some getaway stuff at your place, like some clothes, any personal documents she has like her social security card or birth certificate, so she can contact you if she decides to get away and she doesn’t have to go back to that apartment to get them. Other than that…” She shrugged. “The decision is hers in the end. She has to come to grips with the logical end of this relationship and decide if she’s willing to stay in it that long or not.”
The Weight of Shadows Page 20