It had been four months of total bliss. I didn’t even mind the fat accumulating around my midsection, much.
“How was work today?” he asked.
Since we’d gotten pregnant, only my job turned his beautiful smile to a frown.
“It was okay, a bit slow.” I added the last part in the hopes of bending his lips heavenward.
“Good.” He rewarded me with his signature grin and pulled me back against his chest, his hands immediately going to my belly. Mild pain sliced through my stomach at his tender touch. I gasped and jerked away. “What’s wrong?” He sat up quickly, alarm written all over his face.
“Nothing, probably.” I rubbed my stomach and tried to recall the things I did at work that day. One cake baked, iced, and glazed followed by about a hundred donuts. Then I watched the counter for about two hours before the new girl, Lizette, relieved me. The day crept by without customers, but maybe standing for so long caused the pain.
“Should we call the doctor?”
He wanted to call the doctor if I so much as sneezed.
I shook my head. “Maybe I’ll go in and lay down for a while.” I stood and a sudden burning invaded my stomach. Slowly, I sat back down. “Keaton, I think we should call the doctor. I don’t feel right.” At the sheer terror in his eyes, I wanted to make it better, to take away his fear. “Not bad, just not right.”
“Okay.” His voice shook as he reached for the phone.
As the pain worsened, I covered his fingers with my own, taking the phone and putting it on the table. “Never mind that. Let’s drive to the hospital, okay?” I didn’t want to alarm Keaton with the panic coursing through me, but the pain doubled me over and knocked the breath out of me. Keaton swung me up into his arms and carried me outside, only setting me down long enough to unlock the car.
He helped me into my seat, then ran around and hopped in his side. He drove faster than a NASCAR racer to the emergency room.
Keaton called the hospital on the way, and Doctor Rayburn met us at the entrance to the Maternity Ward. After a quick exam, he sat down on the edge of my bed.
“I am very sorry. We need to do a D&C.”
He explained in empathetic tones the logistics of the procedure.
“We can numb you from the waist down and your husband can stay with you, or you can be asleep.” He took a breath. “Sometimes, it is easier to sleep through it and when you wake up it is all over.”
“I should stay awake.” The numbness in my voice belied the emotions coursing through my broken heart. “Keaton shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
Dr. Rayburn nodded.
“Can he come in now?”
They’d busied him with forms and insurance information as soon as we arrived.
“I am going to talk to him and explain what we’re going to do. While I’m gone, the nurses will get you ready.” He patted my hand. “I want you to know that this just happens sometimes. We don’t know why or what causes it. We do know it’s no one’s fault. Try to remember that, okay?”
Fault and blame didn’t register. I lost my baby and it over-shadowed everything else.
I nodded and the tears began to fall. For the next few minutes, my little room bustled with activity. Medical people all regarded me with sympathetic eyes and spoke to me in voices reserved for children. Keaton walked in as soon as my epidural numbed my body. He sat facing me, the rail of my bed lowered so he could hold my hand and touch my face.
“There is going to be some pressure.”
At Dr. Rayburn’s warning, I shook my head and tried to see around Keaton.
He cupped my face in his palms “Look at me.”
Whenever I tried to see what the doctor did, Keaton pulled my face back to his. “Look at me, baby.” He brushed the hair back from my cheeks. “I love you, you know.”
I couldn’t speak, the sadness too big for me to work around. I nodded.
“You okay?”
I closed my eyes, and again simply nodded, wanting to apologize for not being strong enough to give him a baby. A tear trickled down my cheek. I loved him and I would try again even though I would rather die a thousand deaths than go through this sorrow another time.
After a sudden burst of pressure that had me vice-gripping Keaton’s hand, a feeling of emptiness swam over me. The sadness overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t keep the sobs from escaping. Truthfully, I didn’t try hard.
Keaton leaned into my body and wrapped his arms around me. Lying cocooned in his embrace, the pain in my heart started to fade. To be this upset over a baby I’d never met boggled my mind, but I’d never experienced a bigger heartache than this one. I let the tears fall because I couldn’t summon the power to stop them. Long after the doctor finished his procedure, I sobbed into my pillow. I cried for everything that once was, and everything that could have been.
Eventually, the nurses cleaned me up and took me to a room out of the maternity ward. A sympathetic aid shut the blinds and turned off the lights, telling me to sleep, that I could have other babies, and this pain would subside. Then, Keaton walked in. His eyes red with sadness, but his hands remained steady as he gathered me in his arms. The aid left us alone, shutting the door behind her.
He stayed the night sleeping with me in the same bed, and together we cried for hours, finally falling asleep just before the sun rose. When I awoke sometime in the still early hours of morning, he slept peacefully beside me. I ran a hand through his hair and down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Keaton,” I whispered, fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.
“It’s not your fault, baby. The doctor said sometimes these things happen.” He used the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
His grin couldn’t hide the thickness of his voice or the droplets threatening to spill over his lashes. “Anytime a woman apologizes to a sleeping man, it’s like an alarm clock. We automatically wake up to see if it’s a dream.”
I snuggled closer. “I know how badly you wanted this baby. I’m so sorry.”
His arms tightened around me. “We can try again, when you’re ready.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to, Keaton. I don’t ever want to go through this again.” A sob escaped, followed by another, and I fought to catch my breath.
He smoothed my hair and kissed the top of my head. “Okay. We don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“You won’t leave me?” I knew that if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, we would have split up. We fought over every single thing before, but when I found out about the baby, it all went away.
“Never.” I snuggled against him, closing my eyes to the sunlight peeking in through the curtain. My body and mind each shut down, and my heavy eyes closed once more.
Together, we slept until after noon when the doctor released me to go home with strict instructions to stay off my feet.
Keaton and my mother enforced this rule as though they had been trained by Nazis. They never left me alone, never allowed me up for more than a potty break, and thanks to their obsessive care I became an avid talk-show addict. I knew more about DNA drama and baby daddies than anyone should ever have to know. It became second nature to me to spot Prada and Versace without ever having seen them in person, and I owned recipes for every kind of Christmas goody imaginable.
After three weeks of being confined to my home and bed with my overly attentive husband and family waiting on me hand and foot, I couldn’t take another minute. “I want to go shopping.” I’d escaped my bedroom confinement and padded out to the kitchen.
He set the whisk down and looked at me, his egg mixture forgotten. “The doctor said--”
“I don’t care, Keaton. I feel fine and I’m sick and tired of being locked up in this apartment. I want to go Christmas shopping. I want to see people.” If he didn’t let me out, and do it with a smile on his face, I devised a plan to lure him into the bathroom where I would lock him in and steal his truck.
>
He turned to me, and I puffed out my lower lip, eliciting one of his mega-watt smiles.
“Okay, but you have to promise that if you get too tired, you’ll tell me.”
I nodded and ran to the bedroom to throw on something not of the sweatpants or pajama variety.
An hour later, we walked through the mall, picking gifts for our families. He hadn’t talked to his mother since we announced our engagement, and stopped in his tracks as she continued walking toward us. I noticed her a second after he did. “Keaton, just talk to her.”
“She couldn’t even be bothered to come to our wedding.” The hurt dwindled long ago, leaving only anger in its place. “And she has no right to think those things about you.”
I nodded and smiled a devil smile. “If you don’t talk to your mom, you’re going to wish you stayed home.” And I couldn’t have cared any less what his mother thought about me.
As she approached, his frown deepened.
“Mom.”
Maybe I wasn’t the only one in the world who could make the word sound hateful.
Her eyes softened. “Hello, Keaton.” She looked at me and her eyes turned right back to stone.
“Jocelyn.”
“Mrs. Shaw.”
“Oh, honey.” Keaton grinned like an evil toddler let loose in an antique store ready to commit mayhem. His arm wrapped around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. “We’re married. You should call her Mom now, too.”
I smiled up at him. The little devil lurking inside of him fought hard to bust out.
Mrs. Shaw cracked the slightest grin. “You could call me Sarah,” she said softly.
I nodded. “Sarah, how have you been?” Yes, she kicked me out of school, but I could let it go, forgive her for taking her job so seriously. My outlook might have been different, if I hadn’t managed to snag a job I loved, the man of my dreams, and the life I always wanted.
“I’ve been doing well. Your mother said you’re having a baby. How exciting.” Her smile beamed her genuine happiness.
She obviously hadn’t gotten a haircut in a while. Keaton’s playful glint faltered, then drained to ashen. His fists clenched at his sides. “Jesus, Mom!”
I put a reassuring hand on his arm. “Shh. It’s okay.” I turned back to Mrs. Shaw. “We lost the baby a few weeks ago.”
Her eyes flew to her son’s angry face “I’m so sorry. I didn’t--” She, too, paled under the mall’s harsh fluorescent lighting.
“I know.” My voice softened, unsure of whom I should comfort first. I looked from one to the other and finally said, “It’s okay.”
Keaton turned on his heel and stalked away.
“Could you wait right here?” I held up one finger, not the one I usually flew, but the index this time. She nodded and I ran after my furious husband.
“Hey. Stop.”
At last, he turned to me and pulled me into a strong hug.
“She didn’t know, Keats.” My face pressed against his chest, and his shirt absorbed the words. I pulled back and repeated them.
“Yes, she did,” he insisted. “How could she not know?”
“I don’t know, but she didn’t. Look at her.” I turned and glanced over my shoulder. She stood in the middle of the aisle as Christmas patrons jostled past her and some into her. “She didn’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He still sounded angry, and my heart panged for him.
“That’s right. It doesn’t matter. She didn’t mean it.” I tugged on his sleeve as we parted. “Now, let’s go make nice with her.” When he stayed rooted to his spot, I added, “I’ll buy you a hot pretzel.”
“With mustard?”
“What’s a pretzel without mustard?” I slipped my hand into his and tugged gently. “Come on.”
Slowly, we walked back to the spot his mother still occupied. I pushed Keaton forward as she apologized to him. “I didn’t know, Keaton.”
I pinched him when he failed to acknowledge that his mother spoke. He looked at me over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.
“Your dad and I would love if you would both”--she almost choked on the word--“come for a visit.”
He waited a full minute, then finally grinned. “Aww. I missed you too, Mom.”
Her lips curved up in a faint smile. “Well, I should go now. I have to get home to your dad.” Her arms reached out, and in the next second, he wrapped her in an embrace, lifting her into the air and spinning her around.
Her face flushed. “Put me down, Keaton. We’re in the mall.” When her feet finally touched the ground again, she smiled up at him and love transformed her face. “Please, come for dinner tomorrow night. I’ve missed you.”
“We’ll be there,” I told her, and she finally, after all these years, pointed a genuine smile in my direction.
“Thank you, Jocelyn.” She patted my shoulder as she walked past.
I kissed Keaton’s cheek. “See? That wasn’t too bad.”
He laced his fingers through mine. “Why are you being nice to her?”
I smiled up at him. “Because without her, there wouldn’t be a you.”
Chapter 20
Present September 2009
The doctors attributed Simon’s speedy recovery to the impeccable shape of his body. They allowed him to come home a week and a half after he woke up, and home, for some reason, meant my apartment. In preparation for his release, I turned my office into a second bedroom where Simon spent his days plotting new and inventive ways to drive me crazy.
“Jocelyn.” He bellowed from his bed, summoning me before I even shut the front door. “I can’t find my remote control.”
Icing dye covered my clothes, shoes, and hair. I spent the entire day making and re-making a rainbow colored cake for a bridezilla who’d flown in from Chicago. First the background looked too bleach white, then the rainbow colors too vibrant. Four cakes later, I created a design that made her gush about the cake’s sheer beauty. While I placated her, Lizette secured a delivery service, which guaranteed safe arrival of my creation, thankfully, or I would have had to find a bakery in Chicago willing to let me work out of their kitchen. I’d resigned myself to having to go that route, but that opened a whole new set of problems related to Simon and his care. The delivery service earned my ever-loving gratitude and a year’s worth of free cupcakes. Between this crazy bride and Simon, my name occupied a spot on the short list for new residents at the loony bin. “Not my problem, Simon.”
“But I wanna watch the game.”
Apparently, getting shot in the head had not only taken his memory, but also his ability to behave like an adult.
“Did you get up and look for it?”
We shouted back and forth between my spot in the kitchen and his down the hall.
“No.”
I stomped into his room, grabbed the remote off the floor right next to him, and tossed it on the blanket. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Do you think we could order pizza tonight?”
I took a deep breath and focused on the fact he was still around to annoy me. “Sure.”
“And watch the game?”
I nodded.
“Good. I called Keaton. He’s coming over.”
I turned without another word and stomped into my room, slamming the door behind me.
He knocked cautiously, then opened the door and walked in despite my death glare.
I didn’t miss the irony in his ability to get up and walk the twenty steps from his room to mine, yet he couldn’t bend down and pick up the remote control when it laid less than a foot from his hand. Four days in and I’d already started wondering how long all this togetherness was going to last.
“Joss, don’t be mad. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been a prisoner in this house with you for a week now.”
I nodded, feeling somewhat bad for him, but worse for me. Only because he’d been through a near death experience, I forgave him quickly.
“Tell you what. You and Keaton can watch the game, and I’ll go shopping or to Mom’s or something.”
“I don’t want you to leave.” He injected the appropriate amount of guilt into his gaze.
“It’s okay, Simon. You guys can hang out. I know you probably miss him.” God knew I did.
He grinned. “You know what I miss more than anything?”
I shook my head, almost fearful of the answer.
“Sex with Danielle.” His eyes stared off into a blank spot on the wall and a grin split his face.
I grimaced. “Well, you can ask Keaton all about it when he gets here,” I muttered under my breath, suddenly blessed with the keen ability to not miss Keaton.
“What?”
He missed my little snipe. Thank goodness.
“Never mind. I’m going to take a shower, and as soon as he gets here, I’ll go shopping. Do you need anything?”
“Nope.” He ambled back to his room and shut the door.
When I walked into the living room, Keaton and Simon sat on the couch shoveling in popcorn as the Cardinals pre-game show blared through my television. I grabbed my purse and made for the exit at lightning speed.
Keaton followed me out the door. “Hey,” he said softly.
I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath before turning to face him. “Hey.”
“Can we talk?”
I shouldn’t have taken the chance on gazing up into his face. As soon as I did, I wanted to smack myself. I’d never looked at anyone as handsome as Keaton, in my life. No one stirred such emotion in my stomach. Looking at his body didn’t help either. Holy crap. Who looked like that in jeans without airbrushing? I trained my eyes on a spot over his shoulder.
As much as I wanted to let him off the hook, or at the least hear his explanation, I shook my head and held up my hand. My heart beat less strong and vibrant since I discovered his secret baby. And it pissed me off. “I don’t think you have anything left to say that I want to hear.”
Here He Comes Again Page 16