by Amy Frazier
“Nick, I trust you,” Chessie said, a note of pleading creeping into her voice. “Let’s leave it at that. You know I hated blindman’s bluff as a kid.”
“This is diff—”
Sylvia eyed the two of them. “I’m going to pick a half-dozen people to be facilitators with me. We’ll be circulating making unexpected noises. Sighted people, your job is to make your blindfolded partner feel safe. I’ll blow the whistle in five minutes for you to switch roles. You may begin.”
“No!” Chessie put up her hand as Nick raised the blindfold. “I’m sure I told you about the time I was in psych class and we had to close our eyes and fall back into a partner’s arms. I couldn’t do it. I sneaked out when the professor wasn’t looking.”
“Chessie, I know the fear you have of losing your sight. But this is role play. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m not going to let you get into any trouble.”
“I can’t do it, Nick.”
Hattie St. Regis happened to be in line next to Chessie. Before accepting her blindfold, she leaned over to Chessie and murmured. “How do you think it looks to the staff if Nick’s own wife doesn’t trust him?”
She was going to have to do this.
Gulping hard and blinking to squeeze back real tears, she nodded to Nick who gently tied the blindfold over her eyes.
And there she stood. Without her sight. A fear that ranked right up there with losing her family.
Nick took her hand and her elbow. At least she thought it was Nick. There wouldn’t be any point to switching partners unawares, would there? But a lot could happen while she couldn’t see. “Nick?” she asked nervously.
“I’m right here. You’re okay.”
The sound of his voice soothed her somewhat, but didn’t stop a film of sweat from forming on her upper lip.
“Let’s start walking,” Nick suggested. “Remember we’re on the field. It’s reasonably level.”
She balked. “What if I bump into someone?”
“It’s my job to see that you don’t.”
“See being the operative word.” She might actually cry, and thought the only good use for the blindfold was that it would hide her tears. From Nick. From his staff. This was a bad idea. This day was about the people of Coastal High, not about her and her phobia. She’d known if she participated today she’d somehow mess up. She began to tremble.
“Chessie.” Nick spoke quietly in her ear. “I have to know. More than your fear of losing your sight for real, is this a control thing? Between us? Because you will have a chance to lead me—”
“No! It’s the inability to see.”
“It’s only temporary. It’s an exercise,” he reassured her. “Let me help you work through it. I think it’d be good for you.”
“Is anyone else freaking out, or am I the only one?”
“Don’t worry about anyone else. It’s just the two of us. Trust me.”
For all she knew everyone else had taken off their blindfolds and was staring at the crazy woman. But, somehow, Nick’s steady voice began to infuse her with, not calm, but a lesser degree of panic even while Hattie’s words came back to her. What if it looked as if Nick’s own wife didn’t trust him? His professional integrity was so very important to him, as was hers. He’d shown that he understood and supported her by recruiting for her pottery class. She needed to show him support now even though she would rather do something less painful, like a Brazilian bikini wax.
“Okay,” she said at last. “Lead me.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t move. Instead, he placed his hands flat under hers, palm to palm, waist high. She could sense him standing directly in front of her.
“Lean on me,” he said. “Against my hands.”
She did, tentatively at first, yet his hands didn’t waver. He was so solid she felt as if she could turn and sit, using him as a chair.
“My strength is your strength,” he whispered in her ear, his breath a soft tickle.
“Now wait,” he said, grasping one of her hands firmly while releasing the other.
She strained to hear. His voice sounded somewhere near her knees, then rose.
“Inhale,” he said.
When she did she could smell newly mown grass. She smiled. “One of my favorite scents.”
“Now listen.”
She did and heard quiet voices. Of sighted partners encouraging their counterparts. A low murmur like the distant sound of waves. Beyond that she could hear gulls, probably looking for handouts at the lunch tent. There was no chaos. Only calm.
“Open your mouth.”
Without thinking, she did, and felt a hard peppermint slide into her mouth. She always slipped these candies into his pockets because they were supposed to make your senses sharper. Something a high-school principal needed. She never found them in the laundry—sometimes the papers, never the candies themselves—so he must eat them. Maybe even think of her as he did. The thought made her happy.
“Ready?” His voice was encouraging, his touch warm and steady. He was her Nick and he’d promised not to lead her into any trouble.
“Ready.” As she’d ever be.
“We’re just going to walk for a while. On the grass.”
That was fine. She could handle that now without panic, and silently congratulated herself for the giant step forward.
“Focus on what you feel.”
The strength of Nick’s touch. One hand enfolding hers, the other guiding her elbow. The warm sun on her face. The soft cushion of grass under her feet. Surprisingly, there was a certain power in touch.
“On what you smell.”
Peppermint. Behind that the smell of hot dogs and hamburgers the PTA members were grilling for lunch. Okay, that smell made her queasy for some reason. She tried to bring her thoughts back to the simplicity of peppermint.
“On what you hear.”
Although she tried to focus on the soothing mantra of Nick’s voice, she was distracted by someone approaching. Suddenly she heard the harsh jangle of keys right behind her.
Startled, she stumbled, but Nick caught her. Held her steady against his solid frame. “That was just a facilitator,” he said. “They’re moving between the pairs. Creating distractions.”
“That doesn’t seem quite fair,” she retorted, strong enough to protest.
“Just the exercise’s version of you-know-what happens.” He chuckled and she could feel the sound in his chest as well as hear it. “Still trust me?”
“I always have,” she replied and suddenly felt an overwhelming love for this man. And insight.
Here she thought his job was her competition, but she’d chosen him way back in high school for the qualities that ultimately made him so good at his job. The kind of thoughtful program he’d put together today, the kind of patience and understanding he’d shown her in this exercise. Strength. Empathy. Respect for others. The ability to instill trust.
She’d forgotten how simple it was to just close her eyes and trust those qualities in Nick she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Nick said. “Are you all right?”
“More than all right.” She smiled and felt at ease, despite the blindfold.
The five-minute whistle blew. “Sighted participants stand close as your partners remove the blindfold.” Sylvia’s voice came over the bullhorn. “The sudden return of light may make them a little unsteady.”
Carefully, Nick untied the knot at the back of Chessie’s head. Despite the lesson she’d learned, she could barely wait to see again.
When she felt the strip of cloth fall away, she shook her hair and opened her eyes. And quickly felt the world slip away to black.
Nick watched Chessie slide to the ground.
“Water! Someone bring water!” Blood pounding in his ears, he leaned over the collapsed form of his wife to feel the steady pulse at her throat. “I think she’s fainted.”
He knew of her phobia and had clearly sensed her fear during th
e exercise, but she’d soldiered on. And it had been too much. He cursed himself.
The school nurse came running with the first aid kit while several hands offered up water bottles. Taking the smelling salts first, he cracked open the plastic vial and held it under his wife’s nose. She flinched, then seconds later her eyes fluttered open.
“Chessie!” He cupped the back of her head in his hand. “Sip some water.”
“What happened?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. We’re going to get you to the doctor.”
“No! I’m fine. I just got worked up over being blindfolded.”
“I don’t think so.” He held the water bottle to her lips, encouraging her to sip. “You’re not the fainting kind.”
As she accepted the water, she glanced warily at the crowd gathered around her. “Help me up. I’ll sit in the shade. I’ll be all right.”
“Sit still. Please.” He pulled out his cell phone. “If our family doctor can’t fit you in, I’m taking you to the E.R.”
“No!” She reached for the phone, but he turned aside. “You can’t leave,” she insisted. “Staff day’s only half over.”
Hattie knelt beside Chessie as Nick waited to be connected. He could hear Hattie assuring Chessie that the day was set up so that, once in place, it ran itself as a group effort. It didn’t need a fearless leader. Nick didn’t feel particularly fearless at the moment. Not with Chessie taking a nosedive on the turf. Why was it you could bear the pain yourself, but nearly came undone when a loved one was hurt?
He accepted the first appointment slot, then clicked his cell phone shut. “Come on,” he said, lifting Chessie. “The nurse practitioner will see you as soon as we get there. If you need a doctor, she’ll squeeze you in.”
“This isn’t right,” she protested as they left the field to a chorus of good wishes. “You belong here. It’s your job.”
“No, Chessie. I belong with you. It’s my life.”
He placed her in the Volvo. Why did healthy people faint? He racked his brain for answers, but found he could only focus on Chessie, sitting pale and unusually quiet in the passenger seat.
At the doctor’s, he tried to carry her inside, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Made him stay in the waiting room, too. She insisted she was fine. She had to be. He didn’t like being left behind because it gave him far too much time to imagine all that might be wrong. Chessie didn’t faint. Something had to have triggered it.
He counted the chairs in the waiting room. He paced. He sat and flicked through a two-year-old Field and Stream. He paced. He thought of calling Isabel and Gabriella, but decided against it. They weren’t expecting Chessie and him home until after three. It was twelve-fifteen. Better not alarm them.
What was taking so long?
He paced.
Finally, he couldn’t stand it. He pushed through the door that led to the examination rooms, and asked the first person he saw, “Where’s Chessie McCabe?”
“I put her in room six, but the nurse practitioner’s still with her.”
Good. He had questions.
He opened door number six and found himself staring into Chessie’s wide hazel eyes. She looked stunned.
“Mr. McCabe,” the nurse practitioner said, “I was about to call for you.”
He felt rooted to the floor. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong! We were just discussing good news.” The nurse practitioner smiled broadly even as the color drained from Chessie’s face. “You and your wife are going to have a baby!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PREGNANT. Chessie couldn’t find words to speak as Nick drove them home. She was thirty-seven years old, the mother of two teenagers. And pregnant.
Two months pregnant. Due in February. Valentine’s Day.
Except for the very solid jar of prenatal vitamins she held in her hand, this might be a dream. She glanced over at Nick in the driver’s seat. He seemed as shell-shocked as she.
At home they walked into the kitchen in silence. Nick rummaged in the refrigerator for something to drink while she sank into a chair, numb. She looked around the cluttered room and thought of everything that would need to be baby-proofed. After all these years.
Nick poured juice for the two of them, then sat across from her. The tension lines that fanned from the edges of his eyes were deeply etched. His mouth was set in a straight and serious line. A baby certainly threw a monkey wrench into all his well-laid plans.
How could this happen? Well, she knew. After Gabby was born, she didn’t want to be on the pill indefinitely, so she and Nick had been vigilant about using condoms. Until the past few years. Maybe because she hadn’t gotten pregnant, they’d grown lax. Two adults. And people expected teenagers to be responsible.
“We should talk.” Nick sounded tired.
“I need time—” she felt tired “—to decide.”
“What’s to decide?” There was hurt in his eyes.
“Decide was the wrong word.” She grasped for the right one. “I need time to let this soak in. Meanwhile, let’s not tell anyone—”
“Not tell anyone what?” Gabriella asked as she and Isabel came through the door.
Chessie and Nick looked away from each other, and she felt like a kid caught red-handed.
Isabel stared at one parent and then the other. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” Nick was quick to answer. “Your mother and I were just discussing…a change in plans.”
Gabriella spotted the bottle in Chessie’s lap. “Is someone sick?”
“Not at all,” Chessie replied.
“Then what are these?” Gabriella snatched the bottle before Chessie could react. As she read the label her face flamed red. “Prenatal vitamins?”
“You’re pregnant?” Isabel gasped.
“Yes,” Chessie replied quietly.
“My thirty-seven-year-old mother is going to have a baby?” Gabriella shrieked. “Eeuuw! Gross! You’re not going to have it, are you?”
“Gabriella! That’s enough!” Nick started to rise out of his chair, but Isabel had already yanked her sister’s arm and now held her with a steady grip and a steely-eyed glare.
“Are you going to have it?” Isabel asked, her voice filled with concern.
“Yes,” both Chessie and Nick answered together.
Although Gabriella’s eyes widened in disbelief, Isabel looked relieved.
“But I really don’t want it talked about,” Chessie said. “Not yet. Not even with the aunts and uncles. Or with Gramps.”
“Why not?” Gabriella asked, astounded. “If you’re going to have it, what’s the point of keeping it a secret?”
What was the point of keeping it secret for a little while longer? Nothing more than to let the reality of this bombshell sink in.
“Obviously, we need to make plans.” Nick was already in schematic mode. Chessie could see it in his eyes. But was it for a child—their child—or a problem that needed to be solved?
“I’d say,” Gabriella retorted. “This is a three-bed-room house. Where are we going to put this baby?”
“We have seven months to figure that out.” Nick was fielding the questions, and Chessie let him. She felt as if she weren’t a part of this scene, as if she were watching it from the wrong end of a telescope.
“Can we even afford a baby?” Gabriella sounded more and more like her father, but her question gave Chessie pause. How would Nick now feel about letting that lucrative job offer in Atlanta slip by? At her urging.
“Yes, we’ll be able to afford this baby.”
“Mom…?” Isabel looked worried. “Will you be able to do your pottery? The classes? The gallery?”
Wow. That was a whopper of a question. “I don’t know,” she replied.
Nick cocked his head as if he hadn’t expected that answer. “Sure you can. It won’t be exactly as you envisioned, but you can do it. We can help.”
“Nick, we need to talk about so many things.”
&nbs
p; “Gabby, that’s our cue.” Isabel tugged on her sister’s shirt. “Let’s go get subs for supper. Mom, is there anything you can’t have?”
Chessie smiled at Isabel’s thoughtfulness. “Anything’s fine. Thank you.”
When the girls were gone, Nick took Chessie’s hands in his. “I’m happy about this baby, Chess.”
“You are?”
“Yes. I grew up in a big family. Lots of kids don’t scare me.”
“But after fourteen years, a baby…”
He inhaled sharply then exhaled hard. “I must admit the news came as a shock.”
“But you’re ready?”
“When are we ever really ready for what life throws us? I’d say, with your help, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“About help…” This was one of many thoughts that had been scratching around in the back of her mind from the minute the nurse practitioner had spoken those fateful words. “I’ll need more from you this time. This time around I’m more deeply into my pottery. You told Isabel you didn’t think I had to give it up. I don’t want to. But Gabby and Izzy are on the verge of having their own lives. You can’t count on them to fill in all the time as babysitters.”
“We’ll work it out.”
“And what about us? As a couple? We were just starting to make headway. Just starting to look forward to four years from now when we’d be a twosome again. Now we’ll be fifty-six when this baby goes off to college.”
“In eighteen years, right?” Nick smiled gently at her. “So, if this baby hadn’t come along, how old would we be in eighteen years?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know. We’ll have to work it out. Make time for each other. Like the pops concert. Like the walk the other day. Like closing our bedroom door.”
“There’s so much to work out. The last time I had a baby, I had a diaper pail. Emily has a diaper system for Eric. It’s this big high-tech machine that shrink-wraps soiled diapers into odorless little packages suitable for party favors.” She felt a fat tear roll down her cheek. “I feel like such a dinosaur, Nick.”