What Dreams May Lie

by Alana Terry

  Jillian hadn’t heard from her own parents yet, but maybe they’d be coming.

  Maybe Jillian could have her mom by her side after all.

  She wasn’t ready for any of this.

  She pulled out her phone.

  “What are you doing?” Ricky asked.

  The truth was she didn’t know. Was she seriously naïve enough to expect that a phone call home would take away her problems instead of causing more?

  She opened up her cell’s browser. “I just want to look up what you’re supposed to do when you’re having a miscarriage.”

  “Oh. I can help. You just tell me what you need.”

  She ignored his eager-beaver comment and scrolled through the first few sites that popped up. Forums, blog posts, more medical stats. According to most of the experts, she was early enough in the pregnancy she should be able to get through everything without many problems, but those were probably the same people like Dr. Morrison who told her all she needed to expect was some moderate cramping.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she didn’t know why. She should be relieved. She hadn’t wanted this child in the first place. And Grandma Lucy was at least a little more stable than she’d been when Jillian first arrived. It had been perfect timing for Ricky to show up when he did to drive her over here. What if she’d started cramping like this when she was all alone at the farm house?

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Ricky stared at her as if she’d just confessed that she enjoyed eating kittens for breakfast. “I don’t have anything in here that would work ...”

  “Just unlock the door and let me out.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Are you sure you want to go in there? With those two women, I mean?”

  She had bigger things to worry about than two old gossips. “Let them think what they want.”

  “I’m really sorry I said what I did. I shouldn’t have ever let anyone else know.”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.” She’d already come to realize that as long as she remained in Orchard Grove, there wasn’t a single part of her life that would remain private. That’s why she was so eager to get back to Seattle.

  Just as soon as Grandma Lucy recovered.

  She had to recover ...

  She let herself out of his truck, and before Ricky could jump out and open her door for her, she was on the curb, making her way one unsteady step at a time to the County Hospital entrance.

  CHAPTER 49

  “RICKY? IS THAT YOU?” His mother’s screeching voice pierced through the chaos of his thoughts. “What in the world kept you out so late? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  He glanced up, too drained to even make eye contact. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Hi, Mom? You storm out of here like some petulant teenager and come home at some ungodly hour, you’ve got the whole church worked up by the way you treated two of my closest friends, and all you can say is hi, Mom?”

  It didn’t matter how old he got. In his mother’s eyes, Ricky had no reason to be out of the house past eight o’clock at night. Ever.

  “I’m going to bed,” he muttered. It had been an exhausting night, first worrying about Grandma Lucy and then with Jillian and her miscarriage ...

  “Oh, no you’re not, young man.”

  “I said I’m going to bed,” he repeated. His stomach growled, but he hoped his mom wouldn’t hear.

  Mom jutted out her hip, narrowed her eyes, and crossed her arms. “You listen to me. Your father and I want to have a word with you.”

  “Leave the boy alone,” his dad hollered from his office. “I’ve got him working double shifts the next two days, so let him get some sleep for crying out loud.”

  Mom huffed. “Well, fine, but tomorrow when you come home from work ...”

  Ricky shuffled past her. “Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ll talk then.”

  Upstairs in his room, he changed his clothes, which still smelled like the Safe Anchorage Goat Farm. Had it really just been this evening he’d gone over to find Jillian sitting with Peaches’ head in her lap?

  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so exhausted. He just hoped Jillian was all right.

  After she got out his truck, he’d followed her back into the hospital. He wanted to be there in case Mrs. Porter or Mrs. Shin decided to give her a hard time, but they were quite skilled at avoiding all eye contact and doing their best to blend into the wall when he and Jillian entered the lobby. Connie was there, and Jillian must have explained what was going on, because Connie had a hushed conversation with the nurse, thanked Ricky for taking such good care of her niece, and hustled Jillian into the back room.

  He just hoped that whatever was happening to her wasn’t that bad. He knew nothing about miscarriages but made the mistake of googling some of the things to look out for. Hemorrhaging, infection ... He might have stayed at the hospital later, but he couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in that lobby with those two old women, so he came back home.

  Back to the lecture he knew was coming. At least it could wait until tomorrow.

  He’d made a big mistake. Jillian had trusted him with her secret, and now the whole town knew.

  He thought that if he explained what really happened, people like Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Shin would leave poor Jillian alone, but she was right. All he’d done was given them more cause for speculation, more sins to accuse her of.

  Maybe Jillian had the right idea after all.

  Maybe it was time to get out of Orchard Grove.

  CHAPTER 50

  “NOW, YOU JUST LIE DOWN and ring this bell if you need anything, and I’ll come here in a jiffy.”

  Jillian did her best to smile. Connie had been doting over her all night. Her aunt was so distraught at the news of the miscarriage, she could hardly drive home.

  “I’m just so sorry this is happening, hon. I feel like it’s all my fault. Do you think it’s something you ate?”

  Jillian could hardly pay attention. The cramping was so bad each peak sent waves of nausea cascading through her entire system. Connie could go ahead and mourn the baby who would never be.

  Jillian was just trying to survive the miscarriage itself.

  “You should be back with Grandma Lucy,” she told her aunt, who insisted on tucking her in beneath the prayer quilts as if Jillian had been a little toddler.

  Connie shook her head. “Your uncle will call me if anything changes, and that’s all we can ask for in times like this. God’s pulled Grandma Lucy through worse scares than this, and if he wants to do it again, that’s just what he’ll do. You can mark my words. And as for you, get plenty of rest and make sure you’re changing your pads as often as you need ...”

  “I’m fine.” Jillian hadn’t meant to snap, but any more smothering and she swore she’d suffocate.

  Connie leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Was Jillian wearing some sort of invisible sign that said, I’m needy and pathetic. Please baby me?

  Oh, well. She’d never admit it out loud, but maybe it was nice to be doted over.

  At least every so often.

  “Do you think that pain medicine the nurse gave you’s kicked in yet?” Connie asked. “Because I can call the doctor and see if you can take another dose. It’s a little early, but maybe you’ll sleep better.”

  Jillian shook her head. “I’m doing all right.” She couldn’t even remember the name of the stuff they gave her back at County, but it must be working. At least she didn’t feel like she was about to puke from the pain.

  Connie swept some stray strands of hair out of Jillian’s eyes. “I love you, sweetie. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know.”

  She clutched Jillian’s hand in hers. “And I’m so sorry about your little baby. I know you would have been a wonderful mother.”

  Jillian didn’t bother to remind her aunt the child would have been put up for adoption.

  She was too tired to talk or think about anything.
>
  Connie muttered a few more soft pleasantries, but Jillian’s brain was already starting to drift off into a dark and mercifully painless oblivion.

  CHAPTER 51

  TRUE TO HIS WORD, RICKY’S father kept him working twelve-hour days so that by the time he finished his runs, there wasn’t any time left to drive all the way out to Baxter Loop to check on things at Safe Anchorage. No word about Jillian or her family from his mom either, who usually loved to keep him abreast of all the Orchard Grove gossip.

  All Ricky was able to find out by Friday evening was that Grandma Lucy had made it through her first night but still had a long recovery ahead of her. There was discussion about her moving into the Winter Grove assisted living home where she could get round-the-clock care, at least if she ever made it out of the hospital.

  Ricky had no idea how Jillian was. He figured if something was drastically wrong, someone would have told him, or he would have overheard something somewhere. That’s just the way Orchard Grove worked.

  He tried to call her. Well, that wasn’t actually the truth. He’d taken out his phone and pulled up her number dozens of times, but he had no idea how to start that sort of conversation.

  Hey, so tell me about the miscarriage. Was it as bad as it sounds?

  It wasn’t until Saturday morning after he dropped his mom off at the annual spring health fair that he found himself with a free hour.

  Baxter Loop, here I come.

  It had rained recently, making the potholes on the long gravel road even worse to maneuver than normal. At least he was in his mom’s car this time and not the pickup.

  He was so jittery he felt like he’d just downed three energy drinks. What if Jillian wasn’t happy to see him? What if she didn’t forgive him for telling those two women (and by extension everyone else in Orchard Grove) what really happened to her? What if the sight of him did nothing but remind her of that terrible night in the hospital?

  He shouldn’t even be here.

  But he wasn’t going to turn around. Anything was better than not knowing. If Jillian told him to get lost, if she said she never wanted to see him again, he could live with that.

  What he couldn’t live with was wondering each day how she was feeling. If she’d recovered from everything she went through.

  If she hated him for disclosing her secret.

  If she was still just as lonely and hurting and lost as she seemed when she first moved back to Orchard Grove.

  He pulled into the long Safe Anchorage driveway as a tiny goat kid bounced up onto a plastic tub and back down.

  Connie was smiling, taking pictures of the newborn with an old-fashioned disposable camera. The goat had a pinkish tint to its coat.

  “Is that Peaches’ baby?” Ricky asked when he got out of the car.

  Connie nodded. “Delivered yesterday morning, and just the cutest little thing, isn’t he?”

  Ricky reached down to pet the inquisitive creature and asked, “How’s Grandma Lucy?”

  “Getting more of her strength back every day.”

  “Will she be coming home soon, then?”

  “No. Doctors think it will be a while yet. And we’re still considering if it’s time for her to move into Winter Grove. I hate to think of her all alone there, but of course, it’s not that far, and we could visit every day and even bring her back to the farm couple hours at a time to meet the babies.” She sighed heavily. “Dennis is over at the hospital now. She’s sleeping most of the time, but every so often she wakes up. You know Grandma Lucy. Her spirit’s strong as ever.”

  As much as he might like to pretend he had nothing better to do than to chat with Connie and pet her newest little member of the herd, that wasn’t why he drove all the way out here. Ricky met Connie’s gaze head-on. “Where’s Jillian? I wanted to talk to her.”

  Connie frowned. “You mean she didn’t call? That girl. She promised she would let you know.”

  Ricky stared at the baby goat, who was nibbling at his jeans. “Let me know what?”

  Connie shook her head. “Maybe she tried to text. You know, sometimes those messages can just get lost, and there’s no guessing where they end up. Probably up there with the satellites or stuck in the Internet somewhere so you’ll never find them again.”

  “Tell me what?” he repeated.

  Connie let out her breath. “I’m sorry, hon. It’s nothing personal against you, I’m sure, but Jillian went home. She’s back in Seattle.”

  CHAPTER 52

  “JILLIAN, WE’RE LEAVING in five minutes.”

  Jillian glanced at her reflection in the mirror. After moving back home, everything reverted to exactly how it had been. Saturday evening setting the chairs up in the high-school gym where they’d meet for services Sunday morning. Monday night prayer meetings. Tuesday night Bible study.

  It’s amazing how one little miscarriage can turn everything back to normal.

  Well, just about everything. Next week, she’d start working at her uncle Joseph’s office, and she’d save up enough money to move into the dorms by fall. She hadn’t told her parents about the ultimate end goal. She hated to break it to them now with her brother missing for the past two weeks, undoubtedly out on another drug binge. They didn’t need to know about where she’d be living next semester.

  Besides, they’d find out soon enough.

  Her phone dinged at her. A text from Ricky. She’d known it would just be a matter of days. She was surprised she hadn’t heard from him sooner.

  Surprised and perhaps a tad disappointed. Not that she’d admit it to anyone besides herself.

  Maybe she should have given him the courtesy of a proper goodbye, but you could hardly blame her under the circumstances. Whatever textbooks Dr. Morrison was reading, he’d really have to work on his definition of moderate cramping when telling his patients what to expect during a miscarriage.

  The worst of it was over now, though, thank God. And just like that she was accepted at home again.

  Why had she been so eager to return to Seattle?

  She thought she’d feel more relieved. She thought she’d feel grateful to be back.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d been wrong.

  She ignored Ricky’s text. What good would it serve to stay in touch with someone she’d never see again? If she ever went back to Orchard Grove, it would be to visit Grandma Lucy, and that was it. Ricky Fields was now just a bad memory in her past, like everything else in Orchard Grove

  “Jillian, you ready?”

  She took a deep breath and called down, “I’m on my way.” Then she turned off her phone.

  CHAPTER 53

  SHE’D ONLY SPENT ONE Sunday stuck away in Orchard Grove, but within her first few minutes back at her father’s church in Seattle she sensed how much had changed.

  People who two weeks ago had been cool or reserved now gave her heart-felt hugs, asking her how her week away visiting her grandmother was.

  Ironic that Jillian went to Orchard Grove ostensibly to care for her aging grandmother, and now that Grandma Lucy was in the hospital, Jillian was back home.

  Her mom pinched her elbow. “Stop scowling. You look miserable.”

  “I wasn’t scowling,” she muttered, but her mom had already sidled up to one of the new couples and ignored her.

  Jillian sighed. Her dad’s church catered to young families. Lots of toddlers running around, babies crying everywhere you turned. There were some teens here, but Jillian was too old for the youth group. Did she have any real friends here?

  And why hadn’t she realized before how there weren’t any single women her age in this entire congregation?

  She pulled out her phone. She hadn’t even read Ricky’s text yet. Why was she thinking about him now of all times? She glanced at her screen.

  “Honey.” Her mom pulled her arm. “Come here. There’s a new family I want you to meet.”

  She shoved her phone back into her purse, wondering if she’d ever get around to sending Ricky a reply. What cou
ld she say?

  She’d been so rude to him the last night they saw each other, and then she’d left Orchard Grove without telling him goodbye.

  And that was it.

  Jillian smiled her way through the introductions and greetings, but her mind was elsewhere. Listening to the boisterous laughter, the loud chats while people mingled together before the service started. Five dozen conversations reverberating in the open gym like individual swarms of mosquitoes except even louder and more annoying.

  She glanced around at the fancy clothes, the glued-on smiles. Did anyone here know she’d just lost a baby? That it was hard to say whether she felt more guilty or relieved at any given moment? Did they care that her grandmother was in a hospital and might never leave?

  Jillian had never felt so alone.

  CHAPTER 54

  RICKY WASN’T SURE WHAT he’d been expecting out of today’s service, but whatever it was, he hadn’t found it.

  It wasn’t the preaching. Pastor Greg was a good speaker. He told memorable stories and kept the congregation’s interest. So what was missing?

  Maybe it was because Grandma Lucy wasn’t there. But that couldn’t be right. He should be able to worship God, to connect with the Lord, without the help of some little old granny lady, right?

  At least she was continuing to recover. Connie’s update during the prayer and praises part of the service was even more encouraging than it had been yesterday when he stopped by Safe Anchorage. If Grandma Lucy continued to show improvement and regained her strength, she’d be out of the hospital by the end of the week. The only question was whether she’d be headed back home or moving into Winter Grove.

  Part of Ricky hated to think of a woman as full of life and energy as Grandma Lucy spending her last days at an assisted living home, but maybe it would be for the best. Connie wasn’t young anymore, and their old farmhouse with all its stairs and different levels was no place for a woman who might always need a wheelchair or at least a walker from now on.