Beautiful With You

by Jen Andrews

  The police cars and ambulance that had passed me earlier were all parked around the store, lights still flashing. Zoey. Oh fuck, please let her be okay. I floored the gas pedal and drove as fast as I could toward the store, only stopping long enough at the stop signs to make sure nobody was in the intersections. At the side of the building, I crammed my truck in park, not bothering to shut it off, or close the door when I exited. My feet were on the ground and running toward the entrance as my brain caught up to the scene surrounding me.

  Running up the wheelchair ramp along the side of the store, I made a sharp right and ran into two policemen standing guard at the door.

  The two men took a defensive stance. One took hold of my biceps, and the other pushed one hand against my chest while his other hand went to his gun, unsnapping the holster in the process.

  “This is my store, let me in!”

  “Sir, this is a crime scene. What is your name?”

  “Andy Tate. My wife Zoey and I own this building. Where is she? Is she inside? Is she okay?” I pushed against the officers, attempting to look through the windows to see if Zoey was inside. He said crime scene . . . Oh fuck, oh fuck. Please don’t let that mean how it sounds.

  “You’re the husband?”

  “Yes, now let me inside so I can check on my wife.”

  I lunged, wedging myself between them enough to push the door open part way. “Let me the fuck inside!” I yelled straining against their hold. Suddenly, I was tackled from behind, thrown to the concrete, and my arms wrenched behind me. The handcuffs were seconds from being slapped around my wrists when I heard Zoey’s sweet voice call out to them to let me in.

  Oh thank God she’s okay . . . My thoughts instantly raced from Zoey to Hannah. Fuck! She has to be okay too. “Please, let me in to check my wife and baby.”

  The officers didn’t let me up until they’d taken my wallet out of my back pocket and called in to their dispatch to verify my identity. Once they had confirmation of who I was, they released me and I ran inside the store.

  Over the tops of the aisles, I saw a small gathering of people near the parts desk. When I reached them, Zoey was sitting in a chair on Jeremy’s lap. His arms were holding her protectively and she was crying into the crook of his neck. My heart hammered in my chest at the site. Fuck, she’s hurt.

  I ran to them and dropped to my knees, sliding the last few feet across the floor to a stop next to her. “Zoey, are you okay? Is Hannah okay?” Without waiting for an answer, I anxiously checked her over myself. She looked unhurt physically for the most part, but there was a nasty looking bruise coming to the surface on her wrist, and her hair was a tangled mess with what appeared to be flower petals in it. What the fuck happened?

  “Sir, please step back so we can do our job,” said one of the paramedics.

  I moved aside, but took hold of my wife’s hand and dropped to my knees beside her.

  “Andy, thank God you’re here. I was so scared.”

  “What happened? Were we robbed? Are you sure you’re both alright?” The words that came from her mouth next shocked the hell out of me.

  “No,” she said. “We weren’t robbed, but it was Rob who did this.”

  I dropped her hand and started pacing. I glanced down at Jeremy and met his eyes. They bore the same lethal glare as mine. Shit, no wonder the cops acted the way they did when I arrived. Since they knew her ex-husband had attacked her they had automatically assumed I was him when I told them I was her husband.

  “Motherfucker,” I growled. “I’m gonna kill that fucker when I find him.”

  “Not if I find him first,” Jeremy muttered. “Either way, he’s fucked.”

  Zoey grabbed my hand when I paced by and stopped me. “Please calm down, you two. You’re making me anxious.”

  At the same time, Jeremy and I both apologized to her.

  “Where the hell was everyone? How could this have happened?” I asked to nobody in particular.

  Jeremy answered for Zoey. “Tara was at lunch, Josh is off today, and Jerry took a break. Now they’re all in the break room with my brothers. I wasn’t leaving Z out here alone so I don’t know the whole story yet. I was holding on to her until you got here.”

  “Thanks, man.” I didn’t know what else to say to him. He was very protective of her and I appreciated him staying with her.

  The paramedic finished examining her shins and picked up her arm to inspect her wrist.

  She winced from the pain. “Ouch,” she said quietly and looked up at the paramedic. “That really hurts. Do you think it’s broken?”

  “I don’t think so, but we should take you in to get an x-ray.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll have my husband drive me to the ER after we’re done here with the police.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “You’ll need to have your baby checked out too. You’re positive he didn’t make contact with your stomach when he kicked you?”

  “He kicked you, Zoey?” My blood was ablaze with anger and worry.

  “Yes, but we’re okay.” Her eyes were pleading for me to believe her. “I pulled my legs up in front of my stomach. That’s why my shins are so bruised.”

  I knelt in front of her and laid my hands on her stomach.

  “Just my legs, Andy, I promise. He didn’t hit my stomach at all.”

  I was about to go ballistic from this news, and I frowned at her. “You’re going to the hospital, now.”

  She placed her hands on mine and nodded. “Let’s go then.”

  I sat right where I was until the paramedics brought in a stretcher and helped her onto it. If she said she was all right physically, I believed her. But, she needed an x-ray for her wrist, and I needed to see my baby girl on the sonogram screen with my own eyes.

  The police finally let everyone out of the break room, and her brothers came into the store. Tara already told them what had happened, and she and Jerry were released to go home by the police once their statements had been taken.

  An officer came over to talk to Zoey as she sat on the stretcher. He introduced himself as Officer Kyle Sherman. He didn’t look like he was any older than Zoey. He had sandy brown hair, cut in the standard cop style, and determined, hazel eyes.

  “Mrs. Tate,” he said, “I’ll meet you over at the hospital to get your statement if that’s alright with you. I’d rather they get you checked out first.”

  She nodded and said that was fine, then they wheeled her out the door with me walking alongside the stretcher. Once she was settled in the back of the ambulance, I sat down next to her on the bench.

  With one hand, I rubbed Zoey’s rounded stomach while the fingers of my other hand laced through hers. “Are you sure you’re both okay?”

  “Yes.”

  She scooted over as far as she could on the stretcher and held her arms out to me. I would never deny her need to touch me if it comforted her. I’d made too many mistakes in the past and wouldn’t repeat them. When she’d been knocked unconscious outside of her dance class, and ended up in the hospital for two days, I’d refused to touch her; afraid I would hurt her worse. I eased down onto the narrow stretcher next to her, pulling her into my arms.

  “Please tell me everything that happened.”

  So she did. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth when she told me how she sprayed Rob in the face with brake cleaner and how Tara beat the hell out of him with a tire iron. I’d be giving Tara a raise for that.

  While sitting behind a curtain in the ER, I heard the familiar voice of Officer Sherman ask a nurse where Zoey was. He came and interviewed her, then took a few pictures of her injuries while we waited for a doctor.

  “Excuse me,” a deep manly voice said from the other side of the curtain. “Officer Sherman? May I have a word with you, please?”

  “Give me just a minute,” he said. He stood and pulled the curtain aside.

  As soon as he closed the curtain, Zoey lifted her shirt, placing her hands over the swell of her stomach. She smiled down
at herself the way she always did when Hannah was kicking. I placed one hand on top of hers and she shifted hers on top of mine, then slid them to where our baby girl was moving.

  “Are you sure he didn’t hit her, Zoey?” I asked, then leaned over and kissed her stomach. I pressed my cheek to her skin, and my tiny girl gave me several kicks to my face. They were as strong as ever, giving me the reinforcement that she really was okay.

  “Yes, I’m positive. He would have had to kick through my shins, thighs and my arms. Watch, I’ll show you what I did.”

  Since she was lying on her side, I sat back up so she could move. She demonstrated how she pulled up her arms and legs to shield herself and Hannah. I took her extremely bruised wrist in my hand and kissed it. I could clearly see where Rob’s hand had been on her wrist from the way the bruise was forming.

  It looked like a grotesque, twisted handprint.

  “Mrs. Tate, may I come in?” It was Officer Sherman again. I pulled the curtain back and let him in.

  “Good news,” he said to Zoey. “We’ve just arrested your ex-husband.”

  “That was quick,” she said.

  “The gentleman who came to get me was a hospital security guard. One of the nurses pulled him aside and said a man was in the ER saying he’d been attacked, but his story wasn’t adding up. He’s being treated right now for possible broken ribs, a broken arm, and brake cleaner in his eyes and face.”

  Officer Sherman winked at her. “You and your friend Tara really did a number on him.”

  That dirty motherfucker was in the same hospital ER as us and instantly I bristled. I wanted to search every single exam room until I found him then beat the hell out of him. Zoey must have noticed my body language change to that of a caged animal because she took my hand and drew me closer. My tension decreased and I sat down on the exam table next to her.

  “I think I’ve got everything I need,” Officer Sherman said. “I’ll be in touch soon. You have a tough wife there, Mr. Tate.” He shook my hand then turned and left us alone.

  After the doctor examined Zoey and Hannah, and gave them the all clear, we took a taxi home since we’d ridden to the hospital in an ambulance. I helped her shower so she could scrub away what she referred to as “Rob’s nastiness” then sent her to bed. Once I called her family to tell them she was home and all was well, I slid into bed behind her.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you and Hannah, Zoey.” I curved my body around hers, sliding my arm over her hip to rest my hand on her belly.

  “I was so scared, Andy.” She sniffled and cried, her body shaking. “I’m fine now that it’s all over with, but when I realized that he could have killed Hannah, I was terrified.”

  I inched in closer to her and kissed her hair. “You are amazing. You protected yourself and our daughter. You are so brave and strong, Beautiful.” Holding her and running my fingers through her hair, finally calmed her down.

  Even though Zoey assured me that she was fine, what that piece of shit Rob had done to her was going to get to her at some point. I wanted to be prepared for when it did. I would be sure to call Dr. Jensen to schedule an appointment for her as soon as her office opened the next day. I felt like a failure for not being there to protect her and Hannah.

  Thank God for Tara. If she hadn’t come back from lunch when she did . . . Fuck, I didn’t even want to think about what Rob could have done to Zoey. I wanted to kill the little fucker for the pain he had caused her, but that would take me away from my wife and child and I wouldn’t risk that for anything. I would just make sure he’d never have another chance to get anywhere near her.

  Finally, after I rubbed her back for a while, Zoey drifted off to sleep. I pulled the blankets up around her and held her tighter. I would never let anything happen to her again, no matter what I had to do.

  I’m sitting in a cold, hard metal chair, surrounded by my family. The frigid, dead air of winter is chilling me to the bone. Andy is standing off to the side, by himself. He won’t even look at me. I stare down at the wad of tissue in my hands, bright white against the black of my dress. Tiny flecks of lint from the tissue stand out on my dress.

  “Mija,” my mom whispers as she takes my hand in hers. “It’s time.”

  I gather what strength I have left and stand, my dad links his arm through mine to balance me. Glancing over to where Andy is standing, I find he is no longer there.

  My mom and dad walk on either side of me, up to the tiny white casket that holds my precious daughter inside.

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper as hot tears stream down my cold face. “I can’t let her go.”

  The other mourners around us leave as the casket is lowered slowly into the cold ground. I search for Andy. We need to do this together, but I can’t find him. Why did he leave me again?

  I stare down at the casket as it settles at the bottom of the hole.

  Oh God, please help me. How did this happen?

  I toss a Stargazer lily into the grave on top of the casket. I don’t even know where the lily came from, but I wonder if the stars burn brighter where my baby girl’s spirit is. I turn to walk the few feet back to my chair, but it is gone.

  All the chairs are gone. I don’t remember seeing my parents leave, but as I look around, I am completely alone. It was as if nobody has even been there.

  I turn back to my daughter’s grave. It is already filled in with dirt, and tiny sprouts of new grass have popped up through the soil. How long have I been here? What is going on? I am so confused.

  I feel the urge to leave. As I walk away, I think I hear a baby crying. I turn back to the grave. The crying is getting louder.

  She is still alive, and we buried her. She is screaming for me.

  I run back to the grave and fall on my hands and knees, my breath coming in gasps. She is still screaming.

  I tear at the fresh dirt with my bare hands. I am screaming for help, but nobody is coming. I dig, and dig at the dirt as I beg someone, anyone, to help me.

  Suddenly, Andy is right next to me.

  “Zoey, no!” he yells. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

  He is trying to stop me.

  “She’s screaming! Can’t you hear her?” I cry, completely hysterical. Why isn’t he doing anything?

  He grabs at my hands.

  I slap and push at him, to make him stop grabbing at me. “Help me!” I scream at him.

  He grips my arms and gives me a good shake to get my attention. “Zoey please . . . stop. Please,” he begs again in a loud whisper.

  Why isn’t he helping me?

  I shake him loose and return to scraping away the dirt. He lunges at me. I slap him and claw at him.

  He pulls me into a bear hug to pin my flailing arms to my sides. “Zoey,” he murmurs soothingly in my ear. “It’s only a dream, please wake up. Beautiful, please, please wake up.”

  The word dream sunk in through my panic, and I suddenly felt his strong arms around me. His voice was soft and comforting in my ear as he whispered that everything was okay and that he loved me.

  My eyes shot open, and I was in our bedroom, in the apartment above the shop. The lights were on, and I was sitting straight up on the bed, Andy beside me, with his arms wrapped firmly around me.

  His arms were pinning mine to my sides, and his left leg was thrown over my legs, pinning them down too. I was completely immobilized, my throat raw from screaming.

  “What the hell is going on?” I cried, as I struggled to free myself.

  “Shh, Zoey,” he whispered in my ear. “It was just a dream. Can I let go of you now?”

  I could barely hear him over the thumping of my heart resonating in my ears. I nodded and he released his hold on me.

  I was scared to death because the dream felt so real, I still thought my daughter was dead. I slowly looked down, expecting to see a flat stomach, but instead, I found my round, pregnant belly.

  My daughter was still there, unharmed, growing inside me. I sobbed w
ith relief.

  Suddenly feeling like I was going to be sick, I jumped off the bed and ran toward the bathroom. I didn’t make it. I collapsed on my knees in the hallway right outside our bedroom door and threw up all over the floor. I sat back on my heels, just as Andy crouched beside me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly as he rubbed my back.

  “I don’t know,” I cried. I was so scared and confused.

  “Come on let’s get you back in bed,” he said and helped me stand.

  Finally, I looked up at him. Expressions of panic, concern, and confusion were all over his pale face. He had scratch marks on the side of his neck, and he was bleeding.

  “Nooo, no, no, no,” I cried, as I reached up to his neck. “Oh God, did I do that to you?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He caught my hand and ushered me back to our bed. “Get back in bed and tell me what happened.”

  Andy sat on the bed first, propped up against the pillows and headboard, and patted the mattress between his thighs, motioning for me to sit. I sat on the bed, and pulled the covers back up over us as I reclined against his chest.

  He took my hands and placed them on my belly, with his hands over mine. “Zoey, everything is alright now,” he said softly as he kissed the side of my head. “Please tell me what happened.”

  I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and found that it was three-thirty in the morning. Everything from the previous day came flooding back to me. Then my nightmare came back to me, and I started crying.

  It took me a while to tell Andy what my nightmare was about, because it was so horrible. The entire time I talked, he sat patiently and listened.

  Hannah began moving around as I told him the story. It was amazing to feel her moving after my unbearable nightmare. She was okay and so was I, and Andy was here with me. The two loves of my life were still right here with me.

  “I’m so sorry.” I sat forward and looked over my shoulder at him. He was still pale, as if he were physically ill from listening to what happened in my dream. I needed to clean the floor and clean his scratches. I threw the blankets off to get up.