Here/Now

by D. D. Lorenzo

  As her arms and legs weighted in desperation, she struggled to get to the next step. All else ceased to exist except that kitchen door. Confused, she straddled the twin mountaintops of sanity and insanity, certain she’d fall into the abyss, when she heard barking.

  Oh, thank God for the barking!

  The simple sound of a dog’s bark brought her back to reality. She’d forgotten about Cody. The dog came behind her on the step, pushing against Aimee’s legs. She could feel the ice balls in her fur. Her baby girl stuck her head in just the right place, pushing Aimee to the top. Once the handle was within her reach, she grabbed it like a lifeline, opening the door for them both. Exhausted, she held onto the counter.

  What was that?

  What in the hell was that?

  She inched her way along the counter, placing one hand over the other as she reached the sink and held on. Her legs threatened to fold beneath her as she gorged on oxygen. She stood immobile for a few minutes as she began to calm. After a few minutes, she took mental inventory.

  Her nose was dried out and bleeding just a little. The rush of blood impairing her hearing was beginning to settle to a quiet hum. Though she was still shaking, her arms and legs were holding her up.

  THIS had never happened before—and she still wasn’t sure what “this” was. Questions formed. Was this self-inflicted, a side effect from a medication, or was she simply going crazy?

  Her arms came around her body and she bent at the waist in self-consolation. As she looked down, she saw Cody never left the room. She sat to the right of her on the floor, observing Aimee’s every move.

  “I think you’re my guardian angel,” she whispered, and Cody responded by wiggling her hind end.

  Her stomach hurt and she felt dizzy and weak. Reaching out again, she held onto the countertop for support, laying her head down to still the dizziness. As she leaned forward she heard Carter approach.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she answered as the trembling resumed and she began to cry.

  Her knees felt weak. She gripped at her stomach just as pain tore through her core.

  He came up beside her and hooked his arm around her waist.

  “You need to sit,” he ordered, his voice firm.

  He walked her to the living room and turned to help her to the chair. She looked at him and saw his eyes widen in alarm. He seemed to be looking in the direction from where they’d just walked, but didn’t let her sit down. He turned her to him and held her against his chest as he reached for his cell.

  “Baby, I need to get you to the hospital.”

  Still trying to shake her confusion, she looked at him bewildered.

  “Why? What’s wrong with me?” she asked. There hadn’t been time to tell him what happened. How would he know to take her to the hospital? She looked into his troubled eyes.

  “Aim… you’re bleeding.”

  She looked around him and saw a trail of blood.

  Everything started spinning… then went dark.

  When had his love for her so deepened that he couldn’t imagine life without her?

  He didn’t know because he’d been trying to deny just how much he loved her. It was more intense than the love he felt for Lacey. Now he was painfully aware of something.

  He loved her more than life.

  Much more.

  She, and right now, were the only things which mattered to him. He felt the hollowness of loss. More familiar than foreign, it had taken residence before. He knew from experience you couldn’t wish it away. Shifting uncomfortably for the hundredth time, he pushed against the waiting room chair. It was late. There was no one in the waiting room but him. He almost wished for some distraction. Resting his head in his hands, he half prayed and tried to convince himself that God wouldn’t let him lose again.

  Hearing footsteps, he saw the doctor walking in his direction and he stood up. A rigid lump choked him. His voice sounded serrated and broken as it echoed in the hall.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  Dr. Williams held out his hand directing Carter to have a seat.

  “She’s fine. She lost the child. She was about fourteen to sixteen weeks along.

  We performed a D&C and she’s lost a bit of blood, but I don’t expect any problems with her recovery. You’ll have to make her rest because she’s still recovering from other injuries.”

  Lost the child.

  The words were bittersweet. Babies were supposed to bring happiness—but he was selfish. There was no way to tell who the father was. The doctor said she was about sixteen weeks along. Four months since they’d made love—and four months since she’d been attacked. He never told her about the condom breaking—he never had the chance. He should tell her now. He’d always been honest with Lacey and Aimee deserved no less.

  Was she even aware of the pregnancy? If she suspected, she never told him. What if she’d chosen not to tell him? His mind was racing. What if she knew and she didn’t want to keep it? Maybe she’d planned an abortion.

  He continued to think up too many crazy scenarios to process. They relentlessly assaulted him.

  “Does she know?” he asked. “I mean, about the miscarriage?”

  “No, not yet,” the doctor answered. “The pregnancy was past the first trimester. Looking at her chart, it was the result of the rape. She might not have been aware she was pregnant. Most women figure it out by the eight week mark, but her body has been fighting to recover from her injuries. It can make a woman irregular. Also, she may have been too preoccupied by the pain to even notice.”

  Carter ran both hands over his face and into his hair. He held his head as he exhaled a frustrated sigh.

  “She’s still in recovery,” he continued. “I’ll tell her once she’s coherent. Probably tomorrow.”

  The doctor sensed his distress. “Would you like to be there? When I give her the news?” he asked.

  Carter’s attention was as distant as his stare.

  “Mr. Sinclair?” the doctor asked again, this time getting his attention. He could only nod, afraid his words would be littered with emotion.

  “I have to ask, does she have anyone who can look after her? I don’t want to release her if she’ll be going home alone.”

  “She’s coming home with me,” he said softly.

  “Good,” the doctor answered.

  “Give us a few minutes,” he said as he stood. “I’ll have the nurse bring you back to the PACU. If you like, you can sit with her. We’re going to move her to a room. I’d like keep her a night or two for observation, in light of the circumstances.” He paused to shake Carter’s hand. “Mr. Sinclair, she’s a fighter. She’s been through a lot in a short period of time. Too much, if you ask me.”

  He snickered. He remembered when he first noticed she was a fighter. It was about the same time he’d decided she was a pain in the ass. Although most of her act was smoke and mirrors, in this situation he was glad she was a fighter.

  The doctor was walking back to the PACU.

  “Hey Doc?” he called to him as he walked down the hall. “Thank you… for everything.”

  The doctor nodded and smiled.

  It hadn’t been long when they moved Aimee to her own room. She was still slipping in and out of consciousness during the move, but she’d been out now for about an hour. As he leaned forward he saw the flutter of her lashes. Gently, he stroked her hair. A soft curl caressed her cheek and he brushed it away from her face as he touched his lips to her forehead.

  My girl is strong. I’m not easy and she puts up with me. She can hold her own.

  He had to keep reminding himself.

  Her appearance had begun to suffer because she was unable to eat. He thought she was a little too thin to begin with, truthfully, but he also understood keeping her weight down was part of the job. Now she seemed frail. The weight she’d gained was probably due to the pregnancy. Dark circles had begun to form under her eyes and her cheeks h
ad hollowed. She had a natural blush to her skin, but now she was ghostly white.

  Strong, but so fragile.

  Just then, her lips moved. She quietly moaned.

  “What is it baby?” he whispered. He softly stroked her face.

  “I hurt.” She whispered, trying to lick her lips. He could see they were painfully dry.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  He wet a washcloth, lying it lightly against her lips. He heard a slight sucking sound. She raised her hand to press it into her mouth to take in a little water.

  “Easy, sweets,” he said, and took her hand in his. After a moment she pushed the cloth away.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded so slightly she barely moved.

  After a few minutes, he dabbed her lips again, then took the cloth away.

  He still held her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. She opened her eyes a bit more, looking at him.

  “Please don’t leave,” she said in a hushed tone.

  He gave her hand a squeeze.

  “I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl,” he assured.

  She held onto the rail on the other side of the bed and let go of his hand. She pulled herself so she was facing away from him, lying on her side. He kicked off his shoes, the weight of him impressing on the bed as he moved to lay behind her. He put his arm around her, tucking her head under his chin after he kissed it.

  “Try to sleep,” he whispered into her hair.

  He lay awake until he heard the telltale deeper breaths. He peeked to be sure. It wasn’t too long after when he joined her.

  Icy twitches alternated with stinging soreness. Aimee shivered as she laid beneath the covers. She knew Carter had been with her, but was no longer there. She woke earlier, startled, but drifted back to sleep knowing he was there. He was warm, and she was thankful for it because she was often cold. He probably didn’t realize his body offered her so much comfort, but the chill she now had wasn’t normal. She wasn’t sure if it were from her temperature or from the cold pit in her stomach.

  She actually felt hungry!

  She smiled remembering how Carter held her. She’d even pressed back against him and though the thin sheet had separated them she could still feel his warmth as it soothed her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of him walking out of the bathroom. Sitting beside her, he pushed her long hair behind her shoulder.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Like I got beat up,” she croaked. She turned to her side again.

  “My back hurts really badly.”

  He began rubbing the lower portion of her back, massaging with long, careful strokes. She moaned.

  “Feel good?” he chuckled.

  “Mm hmm. Real good,” she answered.

  Enjoying his ministrations, she stayed on her side for several minutes.

  “So are you going to fill me in? Tell me what happened?” she asked.

  “I came in and you were in the kitchen, bleeding. That’s when I called the hospital and told them I was bringing you in.”

  “Why did I pass out?” she asked.

  “Maybe the loss of blood? I’m not sure,” he answered. “What were you doing before I got there? Did you lift something too heavy?”

  “No,” she answered. She wasn’t going to tell him how panicky she felt when she let Cody outside, but decided she didn’t want to keep it from him either. She turned back to face him.

  “Something did happen, though…”

  His brow raised.

  “I don’t know what it was. I was letting Cody outside. I put the blanket around me so I could get some air.”

  “Why did you do that?” he asked. “It’s why I asked Marc to stay. So he could do stuff like that.”

  “I know, but I was starting to feel better. It felt like when the wire came off my jaw. I wanted to eat something. I felt like getting a little air and I didn’t think three steps was a big deal.”

  “Did you fall? Hit your back?” he asked. He was concerned but not angry.

  “No. It wasn’t anything like that. It was… weird,” she explained. She paused, then looked at him. “I became afraid… no, I was terrified.” Her hand started shaking and he held it, puzzled.

  “I don’t know how to explain it, other than to say I was more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life.” Her eyes misted as she continued. “I couldn’t breathe, Carter. I felt like I was being strangled. I had goose bumps all over, but I was hot too. My arms and legs wouldn’t work. I wanted to go back up the steps but I could barely lift them. Even my hair felt like it was raising up.” Tears trailed unhindered.

  “Did you hear anyone out there? Hear anything that would have scared you?” he asked.

  “There was no one, at least I didn’t see anyone.” She looked at him, fear crossing her face. “What if it happens again?”

  He held her hand in one of his, stroking her face with the other.

  “It probably won’t baby. Maybe it was a shock to your body going out in the cold. It was, like, twenty degrees last night.” His words assured her.

  They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Ms. Vincent? Dr. Williams. How are you feeling today?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. My back is sore and I don’t remember hurting it or twisting it,” she answered.

  Dr. Williams gave her a weak smile.

  “I can explain,” he started. “Ms. Vincent, I’d like to ask you a question. Did you know you were pregnant?”

  Aimee’s face paled and she gripped Carter’s hand. Not speaking, she shook her head indicating she did not.

  “You were approximately four months.” He paused. “You miscarried. Mr. Sinclair said he found you with a trail of blood. We performed a D&C. It, most likely, is the reason for your backache.”

  “Four months?” she choked out. “That would mean it’s…”

  “Yes,” Dr. Williams explained. “You would have gotten pregnant from the rape.”

  “Oh my God…” she whispered. Tears fell. “I didn’t know,” she said looking at the doctor.

  “The good news is everything went well. There is no reason you wouldn’t have children in the future.”

  She was shocked at the alternative, never having given either serious thought.

  “You’re going to be fine,” the doctor assured. “I’m going to let you go home today. Mr. Sinclair said you will be staying with him and I’m comfortable enough to discharge you. The nurse will bring in your papers and then you’re free to go. I’d like to see you in two weeks, but the instructions will be on the paperwork. Until then, rest,” he ordered.

  Any notion Carter may have had about her awareness of the pregnancy was put to rest by her reaction.

  “Thanks, doc,” he said. Aimee didn’t say a word.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered. “Ms. Vincent? I’ll see you soon.”

  Once the doctor left, she closed her eyes. Carter wiped the tears which silently dripped from her nose and chin. He put some tissue up to her nose.

  “Blow,” he said, and Aimee tried.

  She looked at him, broken. He held her hands.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Aim,” he consoled.

  She stared at his jean clad knees. A disconnect fell upon her. She felt cold, sterile. The sterility of the hospital seemed to take away any more tears. She felt nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  It was a quiet ride back to the lake house. Though Carter had taken hold of her hand for assurance, Aimee stared blankly out the window. He didn’t try to make her talk. He subscribed to the thought that talk was overrated and solitude could be a best friend. Trying for so long to be the talkative person most people wanted and expected, he realized his predilection was to be left alone with his thoughts. She deserved the same courtesy. After Lacey died, so many people tried to get him to “talk about it”. It only annoyed him. That was when he was a “people pleaser”. He wouldn’t impose the same thing on Aimee. She
had no trouble speaking her mind, and once she was given the time and space to digest everything that happened, she would talk to him. Until then, he was content to simply hold her hand.

  Taking his time to go slowly with the drive, he wanted to make sure it was a smooth ride with very few bumps. She was still in pain and her comfort was the goal. When they pulled up in the driveway, Cody ran to Aimee’s door, and as Carter helped her down, she smiled as Cody’s delight was evidenced by her relentlessly bobbling backside.

  “Hi baby girl. Did you miss me?” she asked, her voice sounding too weak for his liking. Slowly making her way into the house, she gripped his hand as she climbed the few steps.

  “C’mon, Aim. Let’s get you comfortable,” he said putting his arm around her waist for support.

  She closed her eyes, uncertain of everything at the moment except the security she felt with him. Stopping midstride, she rested her head against his chest. When the strong arms she loved closed around her, she breathed in the smell of him. Musky with hints of evergreen, it was the aroma of “home” to her. Smiling to herself she could only imagine how he would laugh if she told him he was her aromatherapy, but it was true.

  He held her close as she stayed in that position, relaxing into him.

  “You okay?” he asked concerned.

  She nodded, assuring him, then moved slowly as he continued to support her.

  Leading her into the bedroom, he eased her down to the bed. Her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He knelt on the floor and slipped her shoes off, pausing long enough to massage each foot. Tenderly, he helped her into sweats and a tee shirt, lifting her arms and legs like she were a ragdoll. Confident she was comfortable, he then tucked her into bed. She seemed so small and fragile as she nearly disappeared within the massive bed. He watched her eyes slowly close as he pulled the comforter over her shoulders. Before he joined her, he started a fire. Within a few minutes they both were asleep.