Poison Pen

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Poison Pen Page 12

by Jacquelin Thomas


  She grabbed her phone and called Colton.

  “Something’s wrong,” Harini said when he answered. “I need you.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at home.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Colton said. “Are you in bed?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Stay there. Do you have a spare key somewhere?”

  “No… I can get up long enough to let you in. Please hurry.”

  Harini was grateful that he hadn’t questioned her or treated her as if she were lying. His concern seemed genuine.

  Colton arrived ten minutes later. His office wasn’t that far from where she lived.

  “You look pale,” he told her before picking her up and laying her on the sofa. “Have you called your doctor?”

  Nodding, Harini said, “I’m waiting on her to call me back.”

  “I don’t think we should wait. I’m taking you to the hospital right now.”

  She felt something wet crawling down her leg. Water sprang in her eyes. “Colton…”

  He eyed her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m bleeding.” Tears streamed down her face. “My baby…”

  Colton sprang into action. He called for an ambulance, then proceed to try to comfort Harini. “The paramedics will be here soon. You’re going to be okay. I need you to just lay here and relax.”

  He stroked her face gently. “Stay calm. It’s going to be fine.”

  Paramedics arrived and immediately went to work assessing the situation.

  The placed her on a gurney and transported through the building to the ambulance.

  Harini barely noticed the bleeps from a monitor, the paramedic in the back with her speaking to a doctor over the radio. Her focus was on the wellbeing of her unborn child. She was grateful to have Colton by her side. His presence had a calming effect, although she was still fearful. Not for herself, but for the child she carried.

  As soon as she arrived at the hospital, lights pricked at Harini’s eyes as she was taken through a hiss of automatic doors to a room in the emergency area.

  Colton held her hand while she underwent a round of questions pertaining to her health, fetal monitoring, and an ultrasound, while they waited for the doctor to arrive.

  They didn’t have too long to wait.

  “Hello I’m Dr. Watson.”

  After asking a few questions and a quick examination, he said, “You have a subchorionic hematoma.”

  “What’s that?” Colton inquired.

  “It’s a fancy way of saying that I have blood clots between the placenta and my uterus,” Harini explained. “I went through this the last time.”

  Dr. Watson went on to explain that she had blood clots in several locations. “This is a high-risk situation,” he was saying. “A lot will depend on whether we can control the hemorrhaging.”

  “The baby…” Harini struggled to sit up.

  “Please, Miss Samuels, you must try to lie very still.” Dr. Watson protectively pressed his arm over her chest.

  “Save my baby,” she pleaded.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that you and the baby are okay,” he said, patting her arm.

  A wiry, fortyish nurse with blond hair and a heart-shaped face plumped Harini’s pillow, keeping up reassuring chitchat as she checked vital signs. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. I’m going to strap on this device to monitor the baby.” She went about the procedure in a confident manner.

  “Please save my baby,” Harini whispered, tears streaming down her face.

  Colton planted a kiss on her cheek. “Just try to relax. You need to stay calm.”

  She looked up at him. “I’m scared.” Harini closed her eyes and began praying in earnest. “Please God, don’t take my child. Let me keep this one. Please…”

  Bailey ran nervous fingers down the front of the purple blouse she’d paired with some black pants. She’d actually put on not only mascara but also a touch of lipstick for the first time in months. It was a special occasion.

  She had a date.

  Trace called her two days after they met and from that moment forward, they talked on a daily basis. Mostly about superficial topics because Bailey refused to let down her guard. Eventually, Trace found a way around the wall she’d erected.

  She had just finished applying her makeup when the doorbell sounded. Grinning, she opened the door.

  Trace smiled at her. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Bailey responded. “You clean up nice yourself, Dr. Thornton.”

  He presented her with a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”

  “Maurie must have told you that orchids are my favorites.”

  “She did,” he confessed. “I wanted to impress you.”

  “I’m impressed that you went to all this trouble.”

  Within minutes of entering the restaurant, Trace and Bailey were led to a table for two near a huge window.

  “How do you like living in Cary?” she asked.

  “I love it,” Trace responded. “I’ve always liked North Carolina. We used to come down to Wilmington every summer.”

  “What brought you back to Raleigh?”

  “Things didn’t work out the way I thought they would, so I came home. This is where I belong.” Bailey glanced down at the menu, then back at him. “Maurie told me that you used to teach high school.”

  “I did. I taught after I graduated college. Two years later, I was ready for a new chapter in my life, so I enrolled in medical school to study psychiatry. I’ve always had an interest in human behavior.”

  Bailey looked around the restaurant. “Being out with you is forcing me into a new chapter in my life. You’re the first person I’ve been out with since my last relationship ended.”

  He laughed. “I hope it’s one you are enjoying.”

  Smiling, she murmured, “So far so good.”

  “Here we are.” The waitress with a name tag that read Marie set their plates in front of them.

  Bailey’s stomach rumbled as she gazed down at the stuffed baked chicken with roasted vegetable, mashed potatoes and gravy. “This looks yummy.”

  “It is,” Trace said. “My sister-in-law is a wonderful cook. This is her restaurant.”

  “Really? How long has this place been in business?”

  He nodded. “Almost a year.”

  A stunning woman wearing a white uniform approached the table. “Hello.”

  “Bailey, this is Michele. She’s the owner and my brother’s better half.”

  Smiling, she responded. “It’s so nice to meet you, Michele. This chicken is delicious.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  When they were alone again, Trace said, “Now, tell me everything there is to know about Bailey Hargrove.”

  She grinned. “I’m not sure the meal will be long enough.” Bailey tried to focus on the conversation, but it was hard to focus on his words when she wanted to fall into the warmth of his eyes.

  “Maurie told me that you’re a writer.”

  “Not anymore.” Bailey sliced off a piece of chicken and stuck it in her mouth.

  “Why not?”

  Meeting his gaze, she said, “It’s not something I really want to talk about, Trace.”

  He didn’t press her. “Okay. We have much more we can discuss. I’m not one to beat around the bush. I like you and I’d really want to get to know you better.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Bailey relaxed and settled back in her chair. “So, what else did Maurie tell you about me?”

  “Just that you were one of her closest friends and that I’d better not do anything to hurt you. She was adamant about that.”

  Bailey felt bad over the way she’d responded earlier. “Trace, I apologize for being so abrupt when you mentioned my being a writer. I had a bad experience when I was in Philly. A woman I thought of as a mentor… she actually turned out to be a snake. She stole my storyline and made it her ow
n. There’s nothing I can do about it because you can’t copyright an idea.”

  “I’m sorry you had to experience something like that. I know firsthand what it feels like to have someone betray you.”

  “I accept my responsibility in this situation. I really pursued the relationship because I thought we could build a friendship while she mentored me. My friend Cass tried to warn me about her, but I refused to listen.”

  “Is that why you stopped writing?”

  “Partly but the other reason is that I just haven’t been inspired.” Bailey cleared her throat, then said, “I want to know more about you, Trace. Do you enjoy sports?” She didn’t want to spend her evening talking about herself.

  “I do. I’m a huge fan of football and basketball.”

  “So am I,” Bailey responded. “Are you a Panthers fan?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s great. I plan to see as many of the home games I can.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  Bailey laughed. “Only if you can cook.”

  “Actually, I can.”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “I was born and raised in New Orleans,” Trace said, “I would have to say my gumbo, shrimp and grits, and jambalaya are my specialties, but I can cook just about anything. My mama made sure all of us learned to cook.”

  “How many siblings do you have?”

  “I have three brothers. What about you?”

  “I have two sisters. No brothers.”

  “So, you have a brother living here?”

  “Not yet,” Trace responded. “My brother is still in Germany. He’s in the Air Force. Retiring this month. Michele came stateside last August to get the kids in school and the restaurant up and running.”

  Bailey was enjoying Trace’s company. She hadn’t laughed so much in a long time, it seemed.

  At the end of their evening, Trace was a perfect gentleman. He walked her to the door, planted a chaste kiss on her cheek, then asked if he could see her the following evening.

  It was a perfect first date.

  Emotionally drained, too numb for more tears, Harini sagged against the cushions of the arm chair, the lone piece of furniture except for the crib positioned diagonally across the room. The lingering dusk of the January evening threw darkening shadows, but she made no move to turn on the lamp.

  Cradling her head in her hands, Harini sat slumped, still wearing the black crepe dress that she’d worn to the funeral.

  Harini was alone in the nursery—she didn’t want anyone to intrude into the silence as she faced her reality—the death of her child; a death she’d never be able to reconcile as long as she lived.

  Tears and a thick lump in her throat prevented her from screaming. She could hear people speaking downstairs, a spark of laugher here and there.

  There’s nothing to laugh about, Harini thought. There was no reason to be happy about anything. Especially when her life was steeped in misery.

  The nauseating scent of the flowers, groups of them, arranged around the tiny white coffin still permeated Harini’s nostrils, making every breath a nauseating pulsation. She could still feel her son’s premature body from when she held him in her arms. She recalled praying over and over for his little chest to rise up and down, but to no avail. Eyes closed, he had looked as if he were in a peaceful sleep.

  Why did this keep happening? she asked herself over and over. Four pregnancies; three miscarriages and one stillbirth. In order to stop the hemorrhaging, a hysterectomy had to be performed. There would be no more babies.

  Selfish deceptions? With a heavy heart, she released a long sigh. Why do my children have to pay the price for my mistakes?

  “I thought I’d find you up here?”

  Harini looked up find Colton standing in the doorway. “I couldn’t stand being around all those people anymore. I needed to be alone.”

  He reached down to take her hand, but she denied him. “Don’t—Colton, did you hear that phone ringing in the service? How disrespectful. Don’t people have enough sense to turn on a freaking phone at a funeral?”

  “I’m sure it was an accident.”

  “Of course, you’d feel that way. You might as well leave now. There’s no reason to stay.”

  “What’s going on, Harini? You’ve been shutting me out since our son died. I’m grieving, too. I love that baby as much as you do.”

  “Colton, you wanted an out…” she responded, “now you have one. You should be happy.”

  “You’re upset right now.”

  “I have every reason to be upset. All I have in my head is that chapel room at the funeral home—the organ music, the director and his staff walking around with blank expressions on their faces. The smells, Colton… too much perfume and cologne mixed with the scent of burning candles and fresh flowers. It all reminds me of death. That my baby is dead.”

  “I hate seeing you like this,” he said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “Colton, I know about the job offer in Dallas. You’re not in love with me. Just take the job. Besides, you deserve to be with someone who isn’t defective.”

  “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “Pip will be home for a while. I won’t be alone.”

  “I need to know something, Harini.”

  “What?”

  “Did you seduce me because you wanted to have a child?”

  “I care for you, Colton. I won’t lie—I wanted a baby with you, too. I thought that one day you and I might make a great team, but I was wrong. You still love Bailey. Maybe this is why our baby died. Because of what we did to her. We’re being punished.”

  “Don’t think that way, Harini.”

  “It’s true. God knows I’ll be a bad parent so that’s why he keeps taking my children.”

  “You know Bailey well enough to know that she’d never let me back into her life after what we did to her. Besides, she left town.”

  Harini was surprised by the news. “When did this happen?”

  “She left a couple of weeks after everything went down.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I ran into a friend of hers. After telling me off, Maurie let me know that Bailey moved back home.”

  Harini’s grief was too strong to revel in this small victory. All she cared about was the painful truth that she would never be a mother.

  “You really want me to leave?” Colton asked her later, after everyone was gone. The only people in the house with them was Pip and he was downstairs in the living room.

  “I know you want that job in Dallas. It’s perfect for you.”

  “I’m glad Pip ended his vacation early to attend his nephew’s funeral and to be here with you.”

  Harini followed him downstairs in silence.

  After Colton left, she walked over to the lone figure standing near the fireplace. “Thank you for being here.”

  He smiled. “Where else would I be? I’m your brother.”

  “Don’t get cute,” Harini sniped. “You can be on your way. I don’t need you anymore.”

  Wordlessly, he held out his hand.

  She handed him a check, then opened the front door. “Goodnight.”

  Harini sank to the floor in loud sobs when she was alone. It wasn’t fair that she’d had to suffer such a grievous loss—to be robbed of motherhood. To be robbed of a man to love her. What was the point in having money and success if she ended up alone?

  Chapter 16

  Harini tossed and turned all night long. She kept wondering if losing her children were the repercussions of all she’d done? This is not what I wanted to happen. All I ever wanted was to be successful. That means being number one—being the best.

  She got up and walked down the hall to the nursery.

  “Sis, you need your rest.”

  She turned around to find Pip standing in the doorway. “I can’t sleep. I just don’t understand why this keeps happening to me. Why can’t I be a mother?” She broke into s
obs.

  “You are a mother,” he murmured. “You had three children. They are with the Lord.”

  “I want my children to live. I want them alive and well. I deserve to be a mother. All these skanks walking around popping out babies like candy…” Harini wiped her face with the back of her hands. “I’m never going to be able to have a child. Not ever.”

  “Why don’t we have some tea?” Pip suggested.

  She nodded.

  “Those children… had they lived, they would’ve been lucky kids with you for a mom. You would’ve been great at mothering, and it would’ve made you very happy.”

  “Nothing would have made me happier,” Harini murmured. She would have made sure that all her children felt loved. They would know how proud she was of them. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. Harini placed a hand to her stomach, then burst into loud sobs.

  After a cup of lavender tea, she felt a calm wash over her as the rain, gently tapped against the window. “I used to sleep through the night when it rained like this. It was so peaceful.”

  Pip nodded in agreement.

  “I don’t feel that peace now. All I feel is pain and disappointment. I actually thought Colton would insist on staying but he didn’t. He’s leaving town to take a job in Dallas.”

  “There wasn’t ever going to be a you and him, sis. I know that you wanted more from Colton, but you knew going into this affair that his heart belonged to another woman.”

  “Bailey is not going to want him back.” Harini wiped her face with her hand. “I would’ve been good to him—Colton just wouldn’t give me a real chance.”

  “You cared for him,” Pip said.

  “I still do,” Harini responded. “I was falling in love with him.”

  “It never would’ve worked out, sis.”

  “You don’t know this for sure.”

  “You know it. You could never be completely honest with Colton.”

  Harini knew Pip spoke the truth. With a sigh, she pushed away from the table and rose to her feet. “I’m going to bed. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep through the rest of the night.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She entered her room and climbed into the king-sized bed. Harini felt alone—truly alone. There was no one to share her life with. Her expensive bed felt cold and empty—just like her womb.

 

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