Finding Julia

by Desiree Holt

  “B-But what am I supposed to do with him?” The nightmare kept getting worse. Every option she imagined was unpleasant. “I cannot take him home.”

  Oh, God. The thought of it made her dizzy.

  “I had that feeling.” His understanding smile brought tears to her eyes. Deliberately she blinked them back. No crying now. “Under the circumstances I’m recommending he go directly into a nursing home from here.”

  Nursing home? Of course. The best solution. The wave of relief washing over her shamed her. Yes, it was appropriate, Charles could be in a place where he could get the right kind of care.

  “As his medical representative,” he went on, “it will be up to you to choose the place and make the arrangements.”

  “Dr. Rombauer.” She swallowed hard, trying to ease the panic rushing up to consume her. More decisions. More challenges. All of which Charles would argue about. He resented his crippling condition almost as much as he resented her, and what he referred to as her “defection.” “Charles is alert now. I think he should remove my name from those documents and make his own decisions.”

  Rombauer shrugged. “I spoke to him about it, but he was adamant it still be your responsibility.”

  Punishment. He was going to continue to punish her. She wanted to laugh hysterically, because he didn’t even know what he was punishing her for.

  “I have no idea where to start looking for one.”

  “Not to worry. There are two or three excellent ones I can recommend. If you like, I can check with them, let you make the selection, and take care of the arrangements when the time comes.”

  “Oh, please.” Relief surged up. “I’d appreciate it.” She took a sip of her tea. “Have you spoken to Charles about this?”

  Rombauer frowned. “Yes, and I have to warn you, he’s not happy with the idea. I’ve tried to explain the necessity as best I can. Perhaps you can help with this.”

  Not happy. She’d bet that was an understatement.

  Discussing something with Charles he’d already closed his mind to was not her favorite activity. She rubbed her hands over her face, feeling drained.

  “All right, I’ll do my best. Thank you, doctor.”

  She excused herself and raced for the restroom as her stomach heaved its contents back up into her throat.

  * * * *

  “I will not be locked away in some medical prison like a drooling old man.” Charles glared at her as she walked into his room.

  Julia forced herself not to react. “Hello, Charles. I’m glad to see you feeling a little better today.”

  “I am not feeling better and I’m quite sure you’re not glad to see me.”

  Julia sat down in the chair beside the bed. “Dr. Rombauer said he’d explained to you why you need to be someplace where skilled care is available twenty-four/seven.”

  “I’m sure you’d be happy with that.” His bitterness was evident. “Out of sight, out of mind.”

  “Charles.” She gritted her teeth. “All I want is to make sure you have the best care possible.”

  “A comfortable place to die, right? How nice for all of you. Even my parents have explained how difficult it would be for them to have me at their home.”

  For one brief moment, Julia felt a stab of pity for the man nobody wanted. But then she steeled herself. She was losing herself again, and she needed to hang on to whatever shreds were left.

  She dredged up every scrap of patience, but it was like trying to dam a tidal wave. The entire time she was there Charles drowned her with his self-pity. Her nausea was worse than ever and Charles wrinkled his nose in disgust whenever she raced for the bathroom. Whatever bug she’d picked up wasn’t going away. She’d probably have to make time to see a doctor.

  Sitting in a chair by the bed, even for short periods of time, wasn’t doing her body any good, either. These days it didn’t seem as if it belonged to her, with its variety of protesting twinges and soreness. She was angry at herself for this physical weakness at a time when she needed to be at her strongest, but her body seemed to have a mind and will of its own.

  The morning stretched interminably. The discussion of the nursing home options only precipitated Charles’s worst explosion yet. The outburst caused his machines to beep and ding, nurses to rush in, and medication to be administered. When he dropped off to a sedative-induced sleep, Julia left to go home. Tonight she would make a telephone call requiring every bit of her staying power. She’d have to draw Howard and Elise into the nursing home debacle. She dreaded that conversation but maybe Charles would listen to them.

  * * * *

  Luke replaced the handset on his telephone and sat back in his desk chair, watching Mother Nature dump her latest deluge of snow outside his window. The flakes fell so fast they resembled a white curtain hanging from the sky. The atmosphere was dull grey, matching his mood.

  Four weeks since he’d left Julia at the airport and the best he’d been able to accomplish was conversations with Claire. Much as he tried to push thoughts of her aside, she was a constant resident in his mind. How was she doing? How was she handling things? Most importantly, what did the future hold for her? For them?

  He regretted more than anything the unfinished feeling they’d parted with. Foolishly, he’d assumed they would have plenty of time to explore a future together, to see if one was even possible. To see if the blossoming love was real. Would the obligations that weighted them down be an effective blockade, or could they weather the predictable storm and forge a life together? He hadn’t expected life to intrude so roughly, leaving them like a book with no ending.

  “She’s doing as well as can be expected,” Claire told him during this latest call. “But you know our Julia. She’s determined to martyr herself for Charles’s condition.”

  “Damn it, why won’t she at least get in touch with me?” Luke could barely keep the frustration from his voice. “Maybe I could find some way to help her.”

  “Luke.” Claire’s voice was quiet. “You’re the only happiness Julia’s found after nine years of emotional hell. She’s consumed with guilt about it. Unreasonably, she wants to blame this whole mess on what she calls her selfish indulgence.”

  “Ridiculous,” he snapped.

  “I know. But there it is.” Claire was silent a moment. “I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face. But she’s trying to bolster the twins as well as herself.”

  “I’ve half a mind to just get on a plane and show up.” He had to force back the anguish consuming him.

  “Please don’t. She’d crack and fall apart.”

  “Just keep me in the loop, okay?”

  More than anything, he wished it was possible for him to be there to hold her in his arms and soothe away the pain. If only she would call him or take one of his calls. He wanted to smash something, throw something, rant and rave. He hated the fact she blamed herself for this, as if the brief happiness they’d shared was undeserved.

  He closed his eyes, remembering the silken feel of her skin, the delicate floral scent she wore, the velvety texture of her hair.

  God, how he missed her.

  Chapter 11

  Pregnant!

  Julia lay on the examining table in the doctor’s office, listening to the confirmation of her own fears. She’d done whatever she could do to get through the holiday season, hoping afterward she’d begin to feel better. When she didn’t, pestered by both Miranda and Claire, she finally called her doctor. Except by then she was sure of the diagnosis. Something she should have known right away. The immediate and constant nausea, the dragging fatigue, every one of the symptoms mirrored those with the twins almost from the moment of conception.

  “No question, Mrs. Patterson.” Dr. Berlin looked up from the foot of the table. “A little less than two months. Does that jibe with your calculations?”

  Unfortunately, yes.

  “Mrs. Patterson?” he repeated.

  “I’m sorry. Yes. Yes, it d
oes.”

  “Well, I hope this is good news. I know you were disappointed when you couldn’t take the birth control pills, but usually we have pretty good luck with the coil.” He chuckled slightly. “Although they do fail once in a while.”

  “Well, it seems this is one of those times,” she told him.

  “You’ll need to be cautious,” he told her. “Miscarriage is sometimes a problem with the coil in place. No strenuous exercise and, I hate to tell you, no sexual activity. I hope your husband won’t mind too much.”

  “I can assure you that won’t be a problem. My husband has suffered a severe heart attack and his health isn’t good.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry.” He paused. “Is the situation such you might consider terminating the pregnancy? This may not be the best time for you to be giving birth.”

  “No!” She nearly shouted the word. “No,” she repeated more quietly, “that’s not a consideration.” She touched her abdomen as if to protect the growing child from harm.

  “I’ll take your word for it. But if you do change your mind, you’ll need to decide soon.”

  “I won’t be changing my mind, Dr. Berlin.”

  “Fine, then.” He stood up and reached out his hand to help her sit up on the table. “I don’t need to tell you what to do, but because you’re past thirty, we’ll want to watch you a little more carefully this time.”

  “I understand. I’ll do my best.” And how exactly would she accomplish this under the circumstances?

  “Make your next appointment on the way out. You’re nearly through the first trimester and I’d like to see you every two weeks from here until the ninth month.”

  Julia was still in shock when she climbed behind the steering wheel of her car. She’d suspected as much with the nausea then the first missed period, but initially chalked it up to stress. There was certainly plenty to go around. She rested her hand against her lower abdomen. A child! Luke’s child! Something of his she would always have to cherish.

  How the hell was this going to play out with Charles? God! Could things possibly get any worse?

  She had stopped visiting him every day. There was only so much she could tolerate. She believed he’d be grateful for her absence. Instead, when she made herself show up, he lectured her on the propriety of appearances. What would people say? What would they think? She wanted to tell him she didn’t give a damn about any of that. She was sick to death of him and his family and his friends. If he’d just sign the damn divorce papers she’d be out of his hair and he could tell everyone whatever he wanted. She didn’t care. Harry assured her the financial settlement was ironclad so she could rest assured the children would be provided for.

  Now she knew for sure she couldn’t talk to Luke. If he knew she was pregnant, he’d be here on the next plane and try to take charge of the situation. There’d be holy hell to pay, with Rod McGuire leading the charge. Luke had thought his ex-wife’s behavior would scandalize his employers and affect his job. Rod and the Pattersons would make that seem like child’s play.

  Needing time to absorb her situation, she drove to her favorite café, ordered a pot of tea and the butter cookies she loved, and spent an hour examining her situation. A combination of dread and elation filled her. A good plot for a movie: marriage falling apart, wife takes a lover, husband lies near death from a heart attack, wife is pregnant with another man’s child. What a melodrama.

  Unconsciously her hand drifted to her abdomen again and a soft smile curved her lips. Luke. The thought of his child was a life raft in a sea of despair. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have his wonderful eyes, his thick hair?

  She shook herself. She was in no position to be daydreaming. She didn’t want to think what would happen when she couldn’t conceal it from Charles any longer. Maybe if things worked out Charles would be…gone…before she began to show.

  Terrible. Awful. How could she think that?

  She waited another day before heading to the hospital again, gripped by a feeling of dread when she walked into Charles’s room. Carefully composing her face, willing her nausea to go away, and pasting a smile on her face, she greeted him with as much pleasantry as she could muster.

  He tossed aside the magazine in his hand. “What’s wrong? You look like hell?”

  “Nothing, It’s…nothing at all.”

  He studied her with a critical eye. “You’ve been sickly the last few times you were here. You should take better care of yourself. The children need you. Before long I will need you.”

  For a moment she was that insecure young woman again, unsure of herself in the strange world she’d been dropped into, starving for approval and affection. God. If she could just hide away somewhere for a while. Recharge her energy. The way she felt at the moment, she had no strength to deal with anything.

  “I’m sorry. I… You’re right. I’ll see the doctor.” She started to sit down but nausea gripped her with a tight fist and she raced for the bathroom. Her stomach emptied itself, leaving her drained. She rinsed her mouth and patted her face with a damp towel then girded herself to face Charles.

  His eyes stared daggers at her. “You’re pregnant.”

  Julia recoiled in shock, as if from a physical blow. “Pregnant? W-Why… I mean…”

  “Don’t try to lie to me. You never were very good at it.”

  “H-How did you know?” She instinctively looked down at her still-flat stomach.

  “No, you aren’t showing.” His smile was nasty. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. Did you think I’d miss the signs? The vomiting every time you’re here? The changes in your body? The fatigue you never could hide? We’ve been through this before, remember? I don’t know why you couldn’t have neat pregnancies the way other women do.”

  “Neat…pregnancies.” What the hell did that mean?

  “My heart may be damaged,” he went on, “but my brain is still fully functional.” When she was silent, he asked, “Have you no comment to make?”

  “What shall I say, Charles? Yes, I’m pregnant.”

  “I can hardly believe this,” he said. “I’ve been fighting a heart condition and you’ve been whoring in some man’s bed.”

  His words hit her like brickbats. If only she weren’t so tired and achy. If her head didn’t hurt so much as she tried to deal with one crisis after another. If only she could run away and hide. She dug her nails into her palms to keep from crying. “You’re wrong.”

  “No?” He lifted an eyebrow, a scornful look on his face. “Then what was it like? An immaculate conception? It certainly isn’t mine.”

  “Charles, I…” She swallowed, took a breath.

  “Anyway, I thought you were using one of those devices.” He vibrated with rage.

  “Yes, and it’s still in place. But Dr. Berlin says they have a greater rate of failure than the pills.”

  “Which your sensitive system couldn’t tolerate.”

  “A lot of women can’t take them, Charles.” She would not apologize. She would not be on the defensive.

  He stared at her from the hospital bed with the most malevolent look she’d ever seen. “Get rid of it.”

  “What?” She turned clammy with shock, her heart first racing then threatening to stop altogether.

  “You heard me. Get rid of it. Right away.”

  Oh, my God. Get rid of Luke’s baby? They’d have to kill her first.

  “This is not your decision to make.” She sounded braver than she felt, but she would fight for this child.

  “For God’s sake, Julia, for once in your life will you think of someone besides yourself? How will the children react when they find out you’re carrying someone’s illegitimate brat? Or my partners? Or my family, for that matter.”

  “What?” She nearly fainted, collapsing into the chair before she fell to the floor.

  “I’m appalled you would prostitute yourself in another man’s bed. Before long, everyone will know. How do you think this
will play out for a man with a damaged heart?”

  Prostitute? Oh, Jesus.

  The nausea roared back with a vengeance, threatening to overtake her. She made a dash for the bathroom, reaching it just in time. She took a minute to splash cold water on her face and try to pull herself together. She still shook, but not as badly, when she went back into the room.

  “There.” His face was set in the smug look she hated. “Exactly what I mean. Here I am practically an invalid, and I have to listen to you retching every day.”

  “I’ll try to keep the vomiting contained to the hours I’m away from you.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm.

  “I hope you didn’t pick someone my friends might know. I don’t need everyone smirking at me behind my back.”

  “He’s not from here and he’s no one you know. He’s a wonderful man who gave me the most pleasure I’ve ever known in my life.” The words were out before she could stop herself.

  Charles clenched his jaw, and suddenly one of the machines behind him began beeping rapidly. In seconds, the nurse was beside the bed. Julia stood aside, waiting for the woman to check his vital signs and reset the machine.

  “Just a little irregularity.” She smiled and patted his hand. “Nothing to worry about, but you mustn’t let yourself get excited.”

  After she left, Charles looked at Julia, his face set in an expression of disgust. “I suppose you would have been more than happy if your news managed to kill me and I was out of the picture completely.”

  “Please don’t say that.” She was back in control again. “I don’t wish anything to worsen your condition. But I am keeping this baby, Charles, so forget about suggesting a termination again.” Unconsciously her fingers touched the tiny tree charm nestled at the hollow of her throat. It was her only contact with Luke and bolstered her courage as her life continued to deteriorate.

  “What on earth is that piece of junk you’re wearing?” Charles snapped, his gaze focusing on her. “Where did you get it? I don’t remember giving it to you.”