What Dreams May Lie

by Alana Terry

  “Your baby will be a blessing.” Each word seemed to drain more of the color out of Grandma Lucy’s pale face, and when she was done, she retreated even deeper into her pillow. Into her weakness.

  Jillian bowed her head as her tears dripped onto Grandma Lucy’s face full of familiar laugh lines, tiny tributaries of joy.

  “I told you, Grandma. Don’t you remember? The baby didn’t make it.”

  Any relief Jillian had once felt to hear that she would no longer have to carry her child to term paled next to the grief she felt at the thought of God taking her grandmother away from her.

  Lord, don’t you know I still need her here? Who will pray for me once she’s gone?

  “Your child is blessed,” Grandma Lucy muttered. Her eyelids fluttered, closed, and then all was silent and still.

  CHAPTER 45

  RICKY HAD ALREADY IGNORED three calls from his mother. When his work cell rang, Ricky knew he had to pick up.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Your mother’s worried about you,” his father said in lieu of a more conventional greeting.

  “Tell her I’m fine. I’m here at the hospital with Jillian.” Not technically a lie, even though Jillian had been back in Grandma Lucy’s room for nearly half an hour while Ricky was stuck out here in the waiting room, wondering what he should do next.

  “You best come home now, son.”

  “I know, but tell Mom I’ll wait a little bit more until I get another update on Grandma Lucy. Then I’ll be back.”

  A growl from his stomach reminded him he’d left the house without any dinner. He knew his father was right. Jillian was at the hospital. She was with her grandmother, and Connie and Dennis were here too if she needed anything. There was nothing more Ricky could do to help.

  From the other end of the line, he heard his mother’s nagging in the background.

  “You tell him yourself,” his father grumbled.

  Ricky couldn’t hear Mom’s response but could sense the resentment in her tone.

  His father sighed. “Your mother wants me to tell you to remember what she said about that girl. I assume you know what she’s talking about.”

  “Yeah,” Ricky sighed. “I do.”

  He was beginning to grow more and more thankful that Jillian had shut him down when she did. Even if they had anything in common, which they apparently didn’t, how could he expect to develop any sort of relationship with someone his own mother would refuse to acknowledge?

  He heard his father open a door. There was silence until it clicked shut behind him. “There’s one more thing I want to tell you.”

  Where was he? His office?

  “Out in a minute!” His father called then lowered his voice. “Now, son, it’s time we had a talk.”

  Great. Had his father heard about the failed date at Olive Garden?

  “It’s about Grandma Lucy.”

  Ricky blinked and stared at his lap, surprised to see that both his legs were perfectly still.

  “She’s not right in the head. You know that, don’t you? Your mother told me about church on Sunday, and religion’s just fine to a degree, but like everything else, you’ve got to take it in moderation. Not like Grandma Lucy. Understand what I’m saying?”

  No, Ricky didn’t understand. He waited for his father to continue.

  “It’s like this. As men, we need to be willing to be the spiritual heads of our homes. Show up for church, lead prayers at the dinner table. But we also have other responsibilities that are just as important. Provide for our families, lead respectable lives in our community.”

  Ricky clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “Christianity in excess is fine if you’re an eccentric old lady like Lucy, but a boy like you, a boy who’s one day going to inherit his father’s business, has a lot more important things to think about. That’s a lesson I don’t ever want you to forget, son. Do you understand me?

  “Yes, sir,” Ricky replied automatically. “I understand.”

  He understood, but that didn’t mean he agreed.

  “So you come home now so your mother stops worrying about you. Got that?”

  Ricky thought carefully about what he was going to say next. He could tell his father exactly what he wanted to hear, leave the hospital, and fill his empty belly.

  Or he could stay here, waiting for a young woman who probably didn’t need him and certainly wouldn’t appreciate his presence.

  Ricky licked his lips, cleared his throat, and managed to reply, “I think I’ll stick around a little longer. Tell Mom not to bother holding dinner.”

  CHAPTER 46

  RICKY DIDN’T REALIZE until now that it was possible to twiddle your thumbs until the muscles got sore. Still no word from Jillian. Connie and Dennis were back there too. He wondered how long he should make a fool of himself by waiting here. The longer he sat around, the more awkward it would be when Jillian came out and let him know he wasn’t needed.

  What a waste of time.

  He glanced up when he heard the lobby entrance open, and two women he recognized from church walked through. Jumping to his feet, he hurried toward them.

  “Hi, Mrs. Porter. Mrs. Shin.”

  They frowned at him in turn. “Ricky, what’s the matter?”

  “Is your mother ill?”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s Grandma Lucy. She’s here sick, and ...”

  The two women exchanged meaningful glances. Great. Did that mean the entire town of Orchard Grove knew about his and Jillian’s date?

  “And how is Grandma Lucy?” Mrs. Porter asked.

  He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. “She’s okay. I mean, I don’t know that actually, but they haven’t told me she’s not okay, so hopefully she’s doing all right.”

  The two women raised their eyebrows then walked to the window to talk to the receptionist. Ricky searched his pockets to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything here. He had to go home, if for no other reason than that he was starving.

  He’d call Jillian in the morning.

  Maybe.

  She’d told him a lot in the truck. Shared much more than he expected anybody to ever trust him with.

  Maybe he should stay. That girl needed a friend.

  Or maybe he should go.

  He glanced at the time. Give it five more minutes.

  He sat down again and picked up a magazine so it at least looked like he was occupied.

  Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Shin took seats by the door. He’d learned to tune out gossipy banter like theirs early on from all his mom’s tea get-togethers with her lady friends, but he was snapped to alertness when he heard them say something about that McAllister girl.

  “She’s pregnant, you know.”

  “Heaven knows the world doesn’t need another single mom on welfare.”

  “It’s a pity. She was a very sweet little girl back in the day, wasn’t she? So well behaved.”

  “I always thought there was something off about that family.”

  “I did too, but you know, there was something innocent about Jillian at the time.”

  A snort. “Innocence doesn’t last long anymore, does it? You know, she wasn’t even ...”

  Ricky was on his feet before he knew what he was doing or where he was going. Even worse, his mouth was speaking before his brain had any idea what he planned to say.

  “I’ll have you two ladies know something. It’s not Jillian’s fault that she got pregnant. And if it weren’t for old gossips like the two of you, she ...” It was at this moment his mind caught up to his tongue, and he balked at his own brazenness. The two women stared at him with eyes as wide as their mouths, but he didn’t stop. “She’s a sad, lonely young woman because people like you have taught her that Christians are all hypocritical, judgmental ...” He struggled to find the right words and ended up simply moving on before he lost his momentum. “So it’s easy for you to sit there and talk bad about her, but you don’t know what she’s been through, how much she’s
been hurt and used and mistreated, and ...”

  Mrs. Porter shook her head at him. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

  “Why? We’re not talking about my mother. We’re talking about Jillian McAllister. Not that McAllister girl. She has a name, she has a history, she has a past full of hurts that the two of you wouldn’t even ... That you don’t know the half of, and ...” He was doing it again. Speaking so fast he lost track of what he was trying to say.

  He clenched his sweaty palms and finally muttered, “I guess that’s all. I’ll see you later.”

  Without waiting for the chastisement he knew would come if he hesitated any longer, he turned toward the door while one of the women muttered, “See? That girl will corrupt all the young men in this town if she stays here.”

  Ricky paused with his hand on the door. Just walk on out, he told himself. Walk on out.

  His pickup was less than twenty feet away. He could see the dashboard from here.

  Just walk on out, he repeated.

  The women were muttering behind his back.

  “What do you expect from a girl who gets herself pregnant like that?”

  Nope, he wasn’t going to heed his own advice.

  What did it matter? His mom would hear about his outburst whether he pressed the issue further or not.

  So what did he have to lose?

  He spun on his heel and in three strides was towering over the women. From their surprised faces, you’d think they had forgotten he was an adult now, not the little five-year-old he’d been when they taught his Sunday school class.

  “There’s something the two of you should know before you go around spreading any more gossip like that, which I’m told by the way is a sin if you read your Bible carefully. Jillian didn’t go out and get herself pregnant like you said. She was raped, okay? Some crazy ex-boyfriend who wouldn’t leave her alone. So yeah, that changes things, doesn’t it? Maybe from now on when you’re getting your kicks out of spreading rumors like that just because you’re self-centered, judgmental, bitter old ...” Where was the word he was looking for? Why couldn’t he ever say what he really wanted?

  He was breathing fast. His doctors had told him years ago he’d outgrown his asthma. Why this tightening now in his chest?

  “And that’s all I have to say,” he concluded, accentuating his closing statement with a firm nod of the head.

  “Ricky?” The voice was so soft, so low he didn’t recognize it.

  He whipped his head around quickly enough that the movement made him dizzy. Mrs. Shin and Mrs. Porter vanished from his line of sight. It was just the same as if they’d never stepped foot into County Hospital a day in their lives.

  “Jillian?”

  There was something different in her face. She usually looked so confident. Hard.

  What were those black lines down her cheeks? Had something happened to her makeup?

  Why did she look so little? He thought she was taller.

  He hurried toward her, his only desire to protect her from all that pain and heaviness he saw in her expression. After years spent trying to figure out a woman’s nonverbal cues, here was someone he could actually read.

  “Jillian.” Could she tell how glad he was to see her? How long he’d been waiting for her, worrying about her? “How is your grandma? Is she going to make it? Please tell me she’s not already ...”

  Something stung his face. What was that? He rubbed his cheek. What happened?

  He blinked at her, unable to comprehend how this woman he felt so protective towards could have caused him that sort of pain. “What is it?” he asked, trying to figure out if he’d said something wrong.

  Was she mad he hadn’t come back to be with her? The receptionist told him the room was for family only.

  “How could you?” she hissed so low he had to bend down to hear her. His face was so close to hers he could have nuzzled her nose if he wanted.

  Which he didn’t. Not now, at least, with her glaring like that after she slapped him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and made her voice even lower. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone. What were you thinking?”

  CHAPTER 47

  “LISTEN, I’M SORRY.” Ricky had lost track of how many times he’d apologized since he convinced Jillian to talk things through. He got the feeling that she only agreed to sit out here in his pickup with him to avoid a confrontation with Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Shin in the lobby, but it was a start.

  He had to make her understand. “I was trying to defend you.”

  “By telling them what happened to me? Even after you promised not to?”

  He cringed at her onslaught, wondering how a woman who just a minute earlier had looked so helpless and defenseless could be so angry.

  “They were talking about you.” Why didn’t she understand? Out of everyone, she should know what people here at Orchard Grove were like. Sometimes the truth is the only thing that would shut up these stupid old gossips.

  “Do you think I care if they were talking about me or not? Do you think it’s any of their business how I got pregnant? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell anyone about what happened to begin with. Because the girls always get blamed. I guarantee you that they’re in there right now speculating about what I was wearing or whether or not I’d been drinking when it happened or if it isn’t my fault since I was stupid enough to date that idiot in the first place.”

  She shook her head. “You really did it, didn’t you? I have no idea why I told you. For some stupid, crazy reason, I got it in my mind that you were someone I could trust ...”

  “You can trust me,” he pleaded. He hated how whiney he sounded, but what could he do?

  How had everything turned out so backwards?

  “Don’t even talk to me.”

  How he was supposed to do that when she was still sitting next to him in his parked pickup? Did she just want him to leave so she could have some privacy? Maybe he would, but that would mean going back into that lobby, facing those two women himself ...

  His mind already echoed with the sounds of all his mother’s threats and lectures.

  What had he been thinking?

  For some insane reason, he’d expected her to be glad that he’d rushed to her defense. How stupid could a guy be?

  He let out his breath. If she didn’t want to talk, that was fine, but he still had to figure out how he was supposed to get himself home when she was sitting here in the front of his ...

  “Oh.”

  At first he thought it was another round of her angry outbursts, but something was different. Something was wrong.

  “You okay?”

  She looked like she was in pain, but he resisted the urge to reach out and touch her shoulder. Make some kind of physical connection. He’d done enough damage for one night. He could see that now.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped her midsection. “Oh,” she repeated.

  He felt his eyes widen. “Holy cow. Did your water just break?”

  “No, you idiot. I’m having a miscarriage.” She let out another groan.

  Were miscarriages supposed to hurt? How should he know?

  “What do we do? Do you need to see the doctor? I could drive you to the hospital.”

  “We’re at the hospital.” Her teeth were clenched, and she reached out to grab onto her door handle. “This is terrible.”

  “Tell me what to do. Should I get you some hot water? Do you need any clean rags?”

  “Will you shut up?”

  This time, he was relieved to obey. Except now he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all that extra nervous energy.

  She reached out and slapped his knee. “Stop jostling the car like that.” She grabbed her forehead and groaned again.

  “Something’s wrong. We’ve got to get you to the doctor.”

  “I already saw the doctor this morning. He told me this would happen. The baby hasn’t passed yet.”

  “Wai
t, I thought this was a miscarriage. You mean there’s a real live baby in there?” A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

  “It’s dead, stupid. That’s why they call it a miscarriage.”

  “Maybe there’s something we can do to save it ...”

  She shook her head. “For the love of everything holy in the entire universe, will you do me the biggest favor of my life and stop talking?”

  CHAPTER 48

  JILLIAN WOULD NEVER trust a male OB-GYN again, not for as long as she lived.

  Dr. Morrison had told her she’d feel moderate cramping and that was it. Nothing to prepare her for the way her entire abdomen would seize itself shut without warning.

  Or that the fire in her back from the contractions radiated outward.

  “Do you need to see the doctor?”

  How many times had Ricky asked her that in the past two minutes? She ignored him, focusing instead on not passing out from the pain.

  If this was even a fraction of what labor might be like, she would never let another man touch her for as long as she lived.

  If only her mom were here with her. Even through the pain, Jillian could still recognize the irony. Here she was, miscarrying the child her mother had been so ashamed of, and now Jillian would give just about anything for her mom to be the one sitting here beside her, not some hillbilly country boy who tripped over his own feet as often as his words.

  She didn’t know how bad the bleeding was yet, but she had an extra pad in her purse. Every fiber of her body wanted to go home to Aunt Connie’s, throw on her pajamas, and bury herself under those soft prayer quilts. But what about her grandmother?

  The ER doctor said if Grandma Lucy survived the night, she might make it after all. But it would still be touch and go for a few days, and the family had to be ready at a moment’s notice to say their goodbyes. Aunt Connie and Uncle Dennis had been on the phone with the relatives all night long.