He didn’t wait for an answer, and she saw him fiddle around at the head of her bed. Moments later, she felt relief as the pain medication surged through her veins.
She was too tired to think now, though. She needed to sleep. She closed her eyes and drifted off again. Sleep was a safe haven from her memories.
When she woke again, her mother was standing beside her bed. “Mother?” she called softly.
Sarah wore a worried expression as she bent closer to fuss over her daughter. “It’s okay, honey,” she soothed. “We’re here. You’re going to be fine.”
“Where am I?” she asked. She tried to look around to gather her bearings, but she couldn’t lift her head.
“You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for two weeks. We were quite worried about you. It was touch and go for a while. In fact, you’ve been in a coma for two weeks, but you’re getting better now. The doctor says you’ll be all right.”
She wanted to talk more but sleep overcame her again. She was afraid to wake, for consciousness held truth, and she didn’t think she could handle truth yet. However, sleep wasn’t safe either. Sleep held dreams. First, she dreamt she was running to her horse, only the horse kept moving farther and farther away. She needed to get to it. She had to get to it. Someone was chasing her. People milled around, and they all were laughing at her, cheering on her pursuer. Just as he was about to catch her, she would turn around to face him, but she would wake before she knew his identity. In another dream, she was falling over a cliff. She would fall, and keep falling forever, and just before she hit the bottom, she would wake.
It was from this dream that she woke after her third week in the hospital. She screamed, and someone rushed to her side. She tried to sit up, but something heavy was on her chest. She began to cry and someone soothed her. She turned her head and faced Brandon. He also was crying.. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t have the strength to reach out.
“Brandon.” She said his name with such softness that had he not been inches from her face, he wouldn’t have heard her.
“I’m here,” he reassured her.
“Brandon,” she repeated. “What happened to me? I can’t move. Where am I?”
He started to cry again but fought back the tears. He had been crying for three weeks. She was awake now and needed him to be strong.
“You had an accident. You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for three weeks now, but you’re improving every day. Soon you’ll be able to go home,” he said.
“What is on my chest? I can’t move,” she said, panicking. Was she paralyzed? God, what if she was? Suddenly, she remembered it all: the chase, the panic, the fall. Oh, God, she fell over the cliff. How could she have survived that?
“The baby!” she shouted.
She tried to look down but could barely lift her head off the pillow. She tried to move her arms to feel her baby, but they wouldn’t budge. She began to cry. “I’ve lost my baby, haven’t I?”
“I’m afraid so.” He smoothed back her hair, soothing her.
“Oh, Brandon, I’m so sorry. The baby wasn’t yours,” she confessed, between sobs. “I meant to tell you. I wanted to tell you. I tried so many times, but the timing never was right. I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.”
“Shh,” he soothed, stroking her hair, wiping the tears as they rolled down her cheek. “It’s okay. I knew he wasn’t mine. I had suspected for some time, and Jeffrey confirmed it when he came for mother’s funeral. He even gloated over the fact. I was angry at first, but then I had a chance to think about it, and it didn’t really matter. I was such a fool. I knew my jealousy pushed you to him. I didn’t handle anything right.”
“It wasn’t like that—well, not really. I was attracted to Jeffrey at one point, I admit that, and yes, your jealousy—and your secrets, probably had something to do with it, but I wasn’t unfaithful to you. Jeffrey raped me. I didn’t want to tell you about it because I felt so foolish and knew how angry you’d be. That’s when the baby was conceived.”
She saw a flash of anger light up his eyes, but in a moment, it was gone. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, but instinctively she knew. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Brandon confirmed it, “He went over the cliff right along with you. Only he wasn’t as lucky as you.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. Lucky! He called this lucky. She was lying in a hospital bed, where she had been for three weeks, she couldn’t move, and her baby was dead, along with its father—and he thought her lucky.
“Brandon, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll get some sleep now. I’m tired. We can talk later.”
“Sure, baby, I understand. There’s just one more thing.”
She looked at him, wondering what possibly could be next. How much more could she lose?
“The fall damaged some nerves in your spinal cord. That’s why you can’t move. The doctor thinks it’s repairable, though, and he’s planned surgery.”
All she could manage to ask was, “When?”
“Tomorrow morning. He wanted to do it right away, but he needed to wait until you woke up. I’ve already signed the consent forms. Is that okay?”
She didn’t say anything. She just nodded her head as she closed her eyes to escape to her safe world. A world where her baby was still alive, and hope filled her dreams for tomorrow. She didn’t really care about the surgery. Anyway, what did she have to lose now? Nothing was the same anymore. In one careless moment her whole life had changed.
Brandon watched his wife as she lay sleeping in the bed. What had he done to her? His insane jealousy was responsible for the way things had ended. If only he had handled things differently, she wouldn’t be here now. He kissed her softly on the forehead and quietly left the room. He had a whole lifetime to make things right. Fate—or God, had sent them an obstacle, but their love was strong. He was sure they would make it through—together.
**********
CHAPTER 35
Jessica shivered and pulled her coat closer around her. She stood teary-eyed over the grave of her infant son. She wept for the loss she felt as she realized she never even got to see him. She would never know what he looked like, would never know the color of his eyes or his hair, or the way he smelled, the sound of his laugh, or his cries.
She had named him Aaron. Although it had felt strange naming a dead child, and now, she ran her fingers slowly over the name engraved on his headstone, caressing each letter. She whispered his name.
They had buried him next to his father. The oddest thought struck her; future generations would stand here, in all their curiosity, and wonder why they had the same date of death.
Brandon had taken care of all the funeral arrangements. She was touched that he had felt it proper the two of them to be buried together.
It had been six months since the accident, but she still felt completely lost. Jeffrey had gone over the cliff with her, but he had been trying to save her. She felt misplaced responsibility for his death. She was working with a therapist to overcome it.
The surgery had gone well. With physical therapy and a strong will, she had regained full use of all her body functions. The scarring would be a constant reminder, but in time it would become less painful, both physically and emotionally. She didn’t want to forget completely. To forget would be to erase the lessons she had learned. Jeffrey and Aaron would live on in her memory all her life. She would move forward, being careful not to expunge their memory.
Brandon had recounted the accident to her, or at least that part which she had not remembered. It appeared Brandon, having come home early from his trip, had learned from Justin of her foolish adventure. He arrived at the top of the cliff just as she was going over the edge. He saw Jeffrey dive for her feet, but the force of her fall had been so powerful that both of them continued their descent.
A large tree jutting out of the side of the cliff had broken Jessica’s fall. Jeffrey had not been so f
ortunate. It had taken several hours to pull her back up the cliff. The doctors didn’t think she would make it at first. Nevertheless, as miracles go, here she was, after just six months, completely well—physically speaking, at least.
She placed the flowers she had brought with her on each of the graves and turned to make her way from the cemetery.
Brandon waited for her at the entrance to the cemetery, a respectable distance away. She could not know the depth of his own agony, for he had truly thought of the baby as his own.
He smiled as she approached him, putting his arm around her as she came even with him. They walked back to the house in silence. It was a long walk, but it felt good. The air was crisp and the snow crunched under their feet, making an almost rhythmic sound.
As they approached the house, Jessica stopped. She sighed and turned to Brandon.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked. “How do we go about putting the pieces back together?”
He looked down at her and grinned. “My father always said if you get stuck in the middle, go back to the beginning and start over.”
He stuck out his hand and smiled. “Hello, my name is Brandon. It’s very nice to meet you.”
She laughed—a sweet melodic sound. “Hello, Brandon, My name is Jessica. I hope you don’t think I’m too forward, but I’ve been cooped up in a hospital bed for way too long. I’m desperate for a little male companionship, if you know what I mean.” She winked.
“Well, now, miss, my Mama warned me about ladies like you.”
“Oh yeah, and just what did she say?”
“She said ladies like you don’t come around more than once in a lifetime. And if I happen to be so lucky as to find one, I should scoop her up and never let her go.”
“Smart lady.”
“Yes, I say she was.” He picked her up in his arms and opened the door. He stopped and reflected before crossing the threshold into a new and better life. It was true. They had made mistakes, but their love was strong enough to get them through, and in the end, they would be even stronger still. For the kind of love they shared came from deep within, from the mutual love and respect they had fought so hard to achieve. They would stumble along the way, of that there was no doubt, but they would pick each other up, dust each other off, soar into the future—hand-in-hand.
**********
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Victoria Schwimley is the author of: Coveting Love, Confronting Truths, Capturing Faith. She lives in Sacramento, California.
Visit her website at http://www.victoriaschwimley.com
Coveting Love (Jessica Crawford) Page 39