Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (44 page)

“He’s awake?”

“He’s sleeping now. But, yes, he was quite
combative. We’ve sedated him.”

Animated response—a very good sign. “What
was he saying?”

“I couldn’t make out everything; he
mentioned the drinking, claimed he passed out on the beach. He was
very adamant.”

The baby kicked and broke my will. I
released a stifled wail. He was going to be okay. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. He’ll be up in
twenty.”

I slapped the phone shut and all but jumped
for joy before relaying the info to Lily, who was already back at
home, consoling Noah. I had her pass the phone to talk to him for a
few minutes. He had such a wonderful, big heart. After a few
minutes of reassurances, he hurried off the line to call Marcus and
give him the good news.

Not long after we hung up, there was the
familiar sound of a bed wheeling down the hall. I ran for the door,
emerging to see Sheri’s worried face as she came around the corner
ahead of a gurney. She was pasty-white.

“Marcus called you.” She assumed. I nodded.
“I know—” Her voice quivered. “I was going to call when I had
something to tell.”

We moved aside to allow the nurses some room
to maneuver.

I set my hand on her shoulder. She didn’t
come off as the huggy type and I didn’t want to make her
uncomfortable. “I spoke with the doctor. We’re very lucky. He’ll
make a full recovery.”

My eyes followed Evan’s bed. The sight of
him took my breath away. He was too thin and so pale. His lips had
some color, but the overall pallor was gray. His hair was a mangled
mess, overgrown beard and mustache. I took my place beside him and
grabbed his hand.

“He looks like he needed a haircut six weeks
ago. When was the last time he ate? What has he been doing,
Sheri?”

Her eyes welled. “I can’t get him to do
anything. All he does is drink.”

With one hand, I brushed the hair from his
clammy forehead; with the other, I pointed at her. “I thought you
said he fine, that he was sober.”

“He’s not taking any drugs.”

“How do you know?”

Her eyes hardened. Her hands balled into
fists at her sides. “I spend every day with him. I go through his
things when he’s not looking. I buy his food, I clean his house. I
would know if he was using.”

My eyes swept covetously over him. Clutching
his naked fingers, I caressed his arm. His skin was cold. I covered
him with extra blankets from the foot of his bed, tucking in the
edges down his sides and around his legs. He had the same sweet
expression underneath the tangled hair. A boy lost in pleasant
dreams. A light snore escaped his lips from time to time. I could
not stop myself from smiling at the small, cherished sound of his
breath. The sound of familiar. I examined the scrapes over his
cheekbone and checked the bandage on the top of his head where the
stitches were. Thirty-three, by my count. The doctor had been very
hospitable and only shaved a small strip, just wide enough to place
the stitches. No one would be able to see them once the bandage
came off.

“I asked them not to shave too much. His
unkempt hair is a trademark.”

“Heaven forbid,” I mumbled, straining to
refrain from rolling my eyes.

Evan used to tease that one day he’d shave
his head, just to tick her off. I wished the doctor had not
listened and shaved a big bald circle in the top of his head—a
flesh yarmulke—for everyone to see. I smiled to myself, thinking of
the fuss she’d have over it and how delighted Evan would be to
irritate her. Funny how the thing that used to drive me crazy had
become a treasure.

Mulling over memories, I was overcome with a
sickening feeling as I recalled the night he divulged his secret to
me. The police reports, the death certificate. The date of his
biological mother’s death was determined to be the same day she
filed for divorce. Only a few days after she gave away her baby.
Him.

“Have you signed the papers?” Sheri asked,
interrupting my trance.

“Not until I talk to him.”

“You could talk to me, I don’t mind.”

“I’m not married to you.”

She scoffed, “So, you need to hear it from
him?”

It wasn’t so much the words she said, but
her tone. “Leave me alone, Sheri.”

“It might be easier to hear if it came from
me. Only saying, I’d be more polite.” She haughtily crossed her
arms. “You must be aware of what you’ve done.”

“What have I done, Sheri?” I kept my voice
even, my eyes on Evan’s face.

“You’re the reason he’s depressed. He was
fine before you came along. His career is ruined, thanks to
you.”

I shut my mouth, feeling far too inclined to
say what I was thinking about that wretched woman.

“So, this is what it looks like,” she
mused.

I turned away, determined to ignore her
prodding and the stress it provoked.

“He said you never wanted to talk. That you
clammed up every time things got a little unpleasant. I thought it
sounded kind of nice, but, well, I can see why he got so angry with
you.”

The color was returning to her cheeks. And
there was a definite heat building in my own.

“What are you so smug about?” I snapped.

“I know you want to ask.”

I was not sure where she was going with the
allusion, but asked the first question that popped into my head—one
of significance, but of little importance at the moment.

“Where did Nigel come from?” My arms crossed
tightly over my belly.

“What?”

I repeated the question.

“Oh . . .” she mumbled. “It was the least I
could do, considering today—well, yesterday,” she glanced at her
watch, “was your birthday.”

“You knew,” I assumed, staring intently.

“I know it was a terrible thing to do. I
understand that you’re upset with me, but it wasn’t my idea, and I
didn’t have the heart to acknowledge and still go through with what
I had to do.” She finally looked me in the eye.

My heart raced while I sifted through her
words, trying to decipher what she was saying.

“Do you think it was coincidence that he
asked me to deliver them today? On your birthday, of all days?”

“I thought he said it was up to me.”

“For now.”

“He is the one who did this!” I felt the
furious heat in my bones and knew a headache was coming any
second.

“He did nothing that any other man in his
position wouldn’t do. If you ask me, it was only a matter of time.
All of this could’ve been avoided.” She gestured to the surrounding
monitors, the oxygen, and IV Evan was hooked up to.

“I’m not asking, Sheri. It’s not my fault he
couldn’t keep his pants up.” I fumed, temples throbbing. This had
to stop. Not just for me, but Evan too. The last thing he needed
was to wake up to an argument and the shock of my giant belly
winking him in the face.

Sheri looked back at me, silently
satisfied.

“I’m going to the vending machine.”

I took the long way to the cafeteria,
steadily pacing, concentrating on calming down so I could
think.

Breathing deeply and steadily, I stared
blankly at the object of my craving. Inches away, just beyond the
clear Plexiglas. The peanut M&Ms cost two dollars. I had a
piece of lint, three quarters, and a twenty. The red ‘empty’ light
on the change machine blinked back at me. I plopped the three
quarters into the machine, choosing the only item I could
afford.

Furiously chewing, I stretched the bubble
gum over my tongue and contemplated my next move. She was gonna
have to leave as soon as I got back. If Evan wanted, she could
return once I left. Whether or not he wanted to speak to me was
debatable, but something in me very sincerely doubted that he’d be
upset by her departure. He’d always treated her like the world’s
biggest nuisance—I was beginning to understand why.

She had a way of pushing the wrong buttons.
She would not simply tell me anything; she had to say it in a
roundabout way that made me feel like crap, and she was really good
at it. I was the one who needed to speak with Evan and if she
thought I was going to let her hang around to hear that
conversation, she was crazy. I was still his wife, for however long
it may last, and I had final say until he woke up and told the
doctors different.

The thought of kicking Sheri out brightened
my outlook considerably. I came around the last corner into
Recovery with a renewed sense of focus. As I approached the nurses’
station to request back-up, Sheri was lingering in his doorway with
a sullen look. Her face was grim again as she spotted me and walked
over, carrying my hat and jacket.

“I need to talk to you,” she whispered,
pulling me back the way I came.

“No, I need to talk to you,” I amended,
grabbing my things from her.

“He’s awake.” Her grip tightened when I
pulled away. “I told him you were here and he doesn’t want to see
you.”

I shook her hand away but my feet would not
move. Her words were spears, piercing my tender flesh.

“I’m trying to convince him to speak with
you for a few minutes.” She held her hands out, making peace. “Will
you wait here while I try to calm him? I think he may be open to it
if—”

“What did I ever do to him?”

“You rejected him,” she said, flatly. “Wait
here, I’ll see what I can do.”

Nervous and nauseated, I watched her walk
down the corridor and through the dark doorway. My stomach
twisted.

Irritation was Evan’s automatic response to
anything he didn’t expect and considering what he’d just been
through, of course he was distressed. He just needed some time to
take in his surroundings. There was no way he could be as upset as
she was trying to make it seem.

I bit my fingernails to pass the time.
Occasionally straining to make out the muffled voices that floated
down the corridor. There was a definite exchange going on. Inching
closer, I made out a vehement negative response. The words were
unintelligible, but the tone was clear.

That’s it, I had to face him. Two steps into
my errand, he was yelling. At the same moment, an alarm sounded at
the nurses’ station. Two plus an orderly rushed in as Evan screamed
loud enough for everyone in the ward to hear.

“KEEP THAT BITCH AWAY FROM ME!”

A second later, Sheri appeared just outside
the door, her face pale. She looked to me and shrugged. I leaned
against the wall, placing my hands on my knees, the only support I
had.

“I tried,” she said, as she closed in on me.
“He wouldn’t let me get you, so I told him about the baby.”

My stomach jumped. “What?”

“He deserves to know.”

I clutched the pain in my chest. “What did
he say?”

“Didn’t you hear? I thought everyone did.”
She slightly raised her shoulders and dropped them in a flourish.
Not a shrug, more a show of arrogance.

“Why would you tell him? You have no
boundaries.”

During our little exchange, the scuffle
inside Evan’s room abruptly ended. He’d probably been sedated
again. The staff tapered from the room. No one looked at either of
us or said anything.

Sheri set her hands on her hips. “I’m trying
to help you. Don’t blame me because your life isn’t going the way
you want.”

My temples started pounding as I stumbled
back in retreat. I wanted to scream at her, but my blood pressure—I
had to be careful.

Sheri did not pursue me with feet, only her
volume as I receded. “You ruined this all by yourself! He
sacrificed everything—gave it all up for you, and you couldn’t find
the time—couldn’t be inconvenienced! I’d hate you, too, if I were
him.”

I listened to the torrent, my ears burning
like a boiling brook as I made for the stairs at the end of the
hall.

I may never have
known how deeply I loved him. Since he was alright, I could
be thankful for the brief joy and the gift of our son. At least,
that’s what I told myself while creeping into the quiet house. I
sat on my bed and wrote him a long letter, apologizing for my lack
of courage—that he had to find out the way he did—and told him I
did not blame him for anything. I just wanted him to get
better.

After venting to the paper, there was still
too much on my mind to try to sleep. I changed quickly and made my
way through the glass door of my room into the pool area. The
wafting chlorine smelled strong. I wouldn’t be able to stay in long
without getting nauseated. I worked my way into a rhythm, cutting
laps through the water, thinking of Evan and the fear he must have
felt, and ached over his words.

Despite the chaos of my thoughts, I still
felt better by the time the queasiness set in. I wished someone
would invent chlorine that smelled like pine. I’d never have to get
out. The silly thought made me want to smile because, though my
mind made no association between food and pine cleaner, my mouth
still watered when I thought of the delicious scent.

After cleaning up, I headed to the kitchen
to make a sandwich. Today Caleb’s class was taking a field trip and
he needed a sack lunch. I grabbed the peanut butter from the pantry
and the jelly from the fridge. The second I opened the jar of
peanut butter, the smell hit me like a punch to the face. My
stomach lurched.

I hung my head over the sink and dry
heaved.

So what if he didn’t want the baby? I wanted
him enough for the both of us. Besides, he may change his mind.
Once he had the chance to think about it . . . he did it before.
When he told me about what happened with Gretchen, he was really
upset with her. He said he didn’t want the baby because he was
scared. That was probably what it was now. He was not sure how to
respond and just he rejected everything unilaterally.

As I rinsed my mouth, a shadow stirred
behind me and I nearly choked.

“What happened?” Lily asked.