Breathing For The First Time (17 page)

I shove my keys into my pockets and secure my backpack on before racing toward the airport. I find an open station and ask for the next flight out. The concerned look on the attendant’s face slams me back to reality. I slow down and explain the situation, and my urgent need for a flight.

The tension eases from her face as she searches for flights. Seeing I only have one small bag she tells me there is a seat on the flight leaving in 30 minutes. She books me on it and calls the gate, asking them to wait for me.

I quickly pass through security, saying a silent prayer of thanks for the small airport. I run from security to the gate where they are waiting for me to board the plane. The attendant greets me and I hear the door slam behind me as I walk down the ramp to the waiting plane.

I settle into my seat and try not to freak out. I close my eyes and realize I should have called Brooke and my dad. I can’t think right now, I just have to pray Rachel and the baby are okay.

I call my dad on the layover and tell him what’s going on. He says he’s going to meet me at the airport, which calms me down a little.

I tried to reach Brooke also, but she didn’t answer her phone. I left her a scattered message, not really making any sense. I’ll call her again when I find out what’s going on with Rachel.

A few hours later I shield my eyes against the late afternoon Louisiana sun. I squint against the light and look for dad’s truck. He pulls to a stop in front of me and I jump in, setting my backpack at my feet. Dad looks shaken as he pulls the truck back into traffic.

We get to the hospital around four o’clock. I ask for Rachel’s room and the nurses direct us to the fifth floor. The elevator doors open in front of the nurse’s station and before I can ask what room, Heather walks up to us. She wraps me in a hug and thanks me for coming. Her gaze passes over my dad and she smiles at him, too, thanking him for being there as well.

I ask about Rachel, unsure what is going on.

“She’s in surgery now. After I talked to you the doctor told me they would have to take her into surgery. I’m sorry, Tyler, they did everything they could, but she’s lost the baby.”

I feel like someone punched me in the chest. The air in the room suddenly seems like it’s not enough. I stumble, but my dad catches me. He leads me to a chair a few feet away. Dad asks Heather what happened.

“They don’t really know. Her doctor told her she could continue with her normal routine so she was going on with her life. She went out with friends yesterday for the Fourth. She met them for lunch and they were going to watch the fireworks together. It was some old friends from high school, people she really hadn’t been in touch with lately.

“I told her to be careful and to rest if she got tired. She assured me she would be fine. When she came home she said she was tired and didn’t feel well, but I didn’t think much of it. She went straight upstairs to bed.”

Heather looks at me, sorrow clear in her eyes. She blames herself; I can see it.

“I checked on her before I went to sleep. She was on her side, but she’d kicked the covers off. I figured she was hot. In the morning I went in again and she didn’t look like she had moved all night long. Then I saw the blood on the sheets. I called 911 and they brought her here in an ambulance.”

Heather looks from my dad to me, “They think she might have been dehydrated. It can cause early labor. Between the heat yesterday and her probably not drinking enough water, that’s their guess, but they aren’t positive.”

Heather’s eyes land squarely on me, “Sometimes these things just aren’t meant to be.”

She doesn’t mean we lost the baby so Rachel and I wouldn’t be tied together. Could she? No, I can’t imagine that about my child. Or, what would have been my child. She looks like she knows what’s going on, but how could she wish this on her daughter? Unless Rachel hasn’t been happy either.

We all sit in silence, trying to digest the news and cope in our own ways. My dad ends up in the chapel, no doubt praying for Rachel and the baby. Heather sits in the waiting room, jumping every time the door opens in case it’s the doctor with news about Rachel. I pace the floor.

I feel so confused right now. I never wanted this baby, but now I feel like it’s my fault that it’s been taken from us. If I had wanted it, maybe Rachel wouldn’t be in surgery. Maybe the baby would be okay.

I can’t be mad at Rachel. I’m sure she was trying to be responsible, but summers are brutal. I’ve been dehydrated frequently in the summer, and she likely didn’t realize how much more important it is when you’re pregnant. Hell, I didn’t know either.

It’s not Heather’s fault either. If she had pushed Rachel, they probably would have gotten into a fight. Sickness early in a pregnancy is normal.

I know I’m to blame. I know it’s my fault. I put a lot of stress on Rachel with my indecision. We were trying to figure it all out. I wanted to be with Brooke, I still do. But I couldn’t bring myself to desert Rachel and our baby.

Now, I guess I don’t have to worry about that. But Rachel is left alone. And my apathy about our child killed the baby.

Sadly, my only thought now is that I wish Brooke were here. That’s all I can think of. I need her in my life, now, and always.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Brooke

I saw Tyler’s name come up on the screen, but I couldn’t answer. I’m driving and trying to navigate the streets in downtown Charleston. I’ll check my phone when I get to Paige’s apartment.

I pull into the complex and walk the stairs up to Paige and Dante’s third floor apartment. I knock and hear someone yell to me from inside. I let myself in and am immediately hit by something that smells amazing. My stomach rumbles in anticipation. Paige and Tiffany are sitting on the couch and Dante is in the kitchen. My friends jump up and wrap me in a hug as soon as my bag hits the floor. Dante waves but stays in the kitchen.

“So, how’s the bride to be? Are you ready to shop ‘til we drop?”

“Oh, yes,” Paige answers, beaming at the idea of finding a wedding dress. I can’t stop myself from latching on to her excitement and let myself get swept away in the idea of a wedding.

Dante finishes brunch and we all sit together in their kitchen. Paige and Dante lay out the wedding plans they’ve already figured out. I know Paige doesn’t want Dante to know anything about her dress so I avoid asking what she’s thinking. There will be time for that later.

After brunch, Tiffany, Paige, and I pile into Dante’s SUV, ready to start shopping.  Paige has appointments lined up all afternoon throughout the city to find the perfect dress. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I am excited about the day, too.

The first store we go to is a small, local boutique. The dresses are stunning and Paige quickly gets pulled into the sea of white, cream, and ivory. Tiffany and I flip through the endless selection of gowns, handing Paige mermaid dresses, princess gowns, beaded, plain, satin, silk, and taffeta dreams.

Paige tries on every dress we bring her. She’s a great sport but seems to be looking for something we haven’t found yet.

Tiffany and I ooh and aah over everything Paige slips into. I find my mind drifting to a time when I might be searching for my own wedding dress, and start making mental notes. This day is about Paige, but I figure there’s no harm getting a head start.

Let’s see, princess dresses make your hips look wide with the poof of the skirt starting at your hips. It looks great on Paige with her narrow waist and small frame. A mermaid dress slims all over thanks to the flare below the knees. But I think the a-line dress is my favorite. It hides your waist and hips and accents your chest. That will work well for me since Tyler is a breast man.

Okay, I need to stop thinking about marrying Tyler, we aren’t there yet. Back to Paige.

After two hours of dresses, Paige declares none of them are right. “With Dante, I knew it was right. I had no doubt I wanted him in my life. I want my dress to be the same way. I’ll know it’s the right one when I find it. But I haven’t yet.”

Tiffany and I restock the store while Paige gets dressed. Paige thanks the shop owner and says she has a few more places but might be back. She has her eye on a veil and tiara in there.

Three shops later Paige is getting frustrated. “It took you 22 years to find Dante, it might take a little while to find the perfect dress,” Tiffany tells her.

We decide to take a break from shopping to get coffee. When crash into our seats, happy to be resting for a few minutes. Paige says, “Okay, I need a distraction. Who has something to tell me so I can enjoy this instead of being frustrated about dresses?”

“Don’t get frustrated. You’ll find the right dress. Did you ever picture your perfect wedding dress? What did it look like?” I ask Paige, hoping we can gain some insight into what she’s looking for. Just about every woman has imagined her wedding dress, and hopefully Paige knows what she wants.

Paige sighs, releasing some of the tension from her face. She screws up her nose, “I guess I always imagined a dress like my mom’s. I mean, not exactly like hers, but something similar. It was a pretty simple dress, a satin body with a full skirt. Hers had sleeves, which I don’t want, but I love her insanely long train. She wore a tiara instead of a veil, and it was beautiful.”

Tiffany and I exchange looks, unsure what to say. We haven’t been looking at anything close to that. No wonder she hasn’t found it. It sounds like a princess dress, but most of the ones we’ve shown her had embroidery or lace on the bodice.

“Why didn’t you try any on like that?” Tiffany asks.

Paige drops her head and swallows a drink of her coffee before she continues. “We’re planning a pretty casual wedding. The ceremony is going to be at a small chapel downtown and the reception is in our friend’s backyard. It’s not like we’re having a fancy wedding. As much as I love the idea of that dress, I know it would be over the top.”

Paige has always been somewhat practical, and I know this isn’t about money. She’s never been concerned about what others think. “Paige, it’s your wedding! If there is ever a time to feel like a princess and have the most stunning dress around, it’s on your wedding day. Who cares if you’re overdressed? Everyone else will be underdressed really. It’s all about you. Don’t worry about appearances!”

Paige smiles slightly, testing me. “Are you sure? I don’t want to look silly?”

Tiffany jumps in, “Heck yeah. Be the stunning creature you want to be. There’s no rule saying you can only get the princess dress if you’re getting married in front of 500 strangers in a cathedral the size of the city. The rule is, you do what you want to do.”

Paige’s eyes brighten at Tiffany’s assurance, “Thank y’all. I feel better now. Okay, let’s go find my dress!”

*******

“This is hopeless. I’ll never find the right dress,” Paige whines. It’s been another long day. After our pep talk yesterday, she was determined to find her dress. We went through a few more stores but gave up, needing a break. Dante cooked us dinner, and we hung out last night. But now, we’re back at it again.

We’ve been through four more stores already today and Paige is not up to the challenge. At lunch we talked about everything except her search since she’s not finding what she’s looking for. And now, well, it’s just not going well.

Tiffany is at Paige’s side, trying to calm her down, “We’ll find the right dress. I promise. Maybe you can come to Buffalo sometime and we can shop there. Or we can go to Columbia with Brooke. There’s always Atlanta and New York City if we need to go there. We will find your perfect dress.”

I flip through the dresses on the rack while my friends talk. Paige is defeated. She has this idea in her head of what she wants, but we’re not finding it. I suggested at lunch that she ask her mom if she can wear her old dress, but her mom got rid of it a long time ago. Plus, her parents are divorced and she thinks it would be bad luck to wear a dress from a wedding that didn’t produce a happy, lifelong marriage.

It seems like a lot of the dresses are the same, and Paige has tried them all on. I wish I could just snap my fingers and find her the perfect dress, but I know it won’t happen. Maybe the clearance rack will have something.

I hear Tiffany helping Paige out of the latest dress. The saleslady is hanging up the rejected dresses and putting them away. Paige is telling Tiffany, “Maybe this is a sign. Maybe I’m not supposed to marry Dante. There’re hundreds of beautiful dresses and I can’t pick one of them.”

Tiffany’s voice drifts toward me from around the rack, “Paige, you need to stop being a drama queen. You know Dante is perfect for you. Your dress should be just as perfect for you as your husband, so stop being crazy. We will find you a dress. I have the rest of the summer off and so does Brooke. We’ll go wherever we need to go. Just calm down.”

I hear Paige suck in a breath and know that’s exactly what she needed to hear. I’m sure she doesn’t like it, and I can imagine the face she’s giving Tiffany. I stifle a laugh while I dig through the dresses.

And then I see it. Somehow we missed this dress in all our searching. I shove the other ones away from it and take in the whole thing. The dress is on sale, and it’s Paige’s size, how perfect is that? It’s strapless with a sweetheart neckline. There is a satin rope detail at the very top that trails down the back over the zipper. The bodice is satin also but plain and smooth. At the waist the skirt poofs away below a lavender ribbon, Paige’s favorite color. The taffeta and tulle skirt is full and gorgeous.

I pull the bag containing the dress off the rack. I tell Tiffany and Paige to get back in the dressing room and tell Paige to close her eyes. She groans, but Tiffany quickly admonishes her and then tells me to come over.

When I show Tiffany the dress she gasps and a huge smile splits her face. Paige is standing before us in her strapless bra and underwear, her eyes closed tightly.

Tiffany hangs up the dress and unzips the bag. We carefully slide it from the hanger and each hold Paige’s hand while she steps into the dress. Tiffany helps me pull the bodice over Paige and zips it closed. My eyes meet Tiffany’s over Paige’s shoulders and I see tears in hers, too.