“That’s nonsense,” Emma said vehemently. “You aren’t responsible for the actions of a crazed drug addict. Frank had every right to go outside and expect to be safe. Bruce Mulholland had no right to be there. This is his fault, not yours.”
“But...”
“Shh. I don’t want to hear any more talk like this. Do you hear me? You didn’t cause this.” Jess felt a light kiss placed against her head. “Now I want you to go take a shower while I call the doctor to let him know I’m bringing you in.”
~~~~~
Jess sat on the hard examining table in the stark white room, wishing she were anywhere but here. She hated the thin paper gown that tore every time she tried to move. The doctor could have at least let her get dressed when he went to fetch Emma.
Except they probably didn’t allow street clothes at the local funny farm. Even though he’d seemed quite concerned during the gentle, thorough examination, she’d managed to convince herself he was making arrangements to have her committed somewhere. He’d been gone for several minutes already. He must be explaining the situation to Emma, so she would be prepared when he broke the news to her.
Well, if he thought she would go, he had another thing coming. There wasn’t anything he could do that would make her leave the home she had almost shared with Frank. Not one blessed thing. Just let him try and...
The door opened, interrupting her thoughts. Emma entered first, followed by the short, balding doctor. He was pushing a large machine, and she wondered if he’d decided to try electric shock treatments instead.
“Sorry it took so long, hon. I was in the bathroom,” Emma apologized, walking over to stand beside her. The doctor cleared his throat.
“Mrs. Bentley, I wanted Mrs. Lanning here when I gave you the news,” he said hesitantly, looking uncertainly from one woman to the other. “You may find this hard to believe, but you’re going to have a baby.”
Emma’s surprised gaze flew to Jess, then, with a shriek of delight, she hugged her tight. Jess sat perfectly still as the announcement sank in. A baby? Frank’s child growing inside her? How could that be? Wouldn’t she know if she were pregnant? Was the doctor lying in some misguided attempt to ward off another try at suicide? He was right. She didn’t believe it, and told him so in no uncertain terms.
“That’s why I brought this along,” he told her, chuckling as he pointed at the machine. “If you’ll lie down, and watch the screen, you’ll see your baby in just a minute.”
Emma held Jess’s hand as the doctor squeezed cold gel on her stomach. She was surprised to find they were both trembling in anticipation, watching as he moved a smooth device over her skin. Instructed to look at a monitor, Jess could only see what looked like a bad x-ray.
This was a baby? This was a mess, a black and white bunch of static.
“Oh, there’s the heart,” Emma breathed. Jess glanced up at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Where? How can you tell?”
“Right here.” Doctor Anders pointed to a tiny, pulsating area, then to others. “There’s the head. And look, he’s sucking his fist.” He seemed to be as excited as Emma was. “Do you see it?”
“Yes,” Jess whispered. She did see it now. She really was going to have a baby, and she felt the queerest sensation. “Uh, you said he? Is it a boy?”
“That was just a figure of speech. You’re not far enough along for me to tell yet. Did you see him kick his leg?”
“This is too cool,” Emma exclaimed, squeezing Jess’s hand. “I’m going to be an aunt. And you’re going to be a mom. I can hardly wait. We’ve got so much shopping to do, so many things to get.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jess said, then grinned like a fool. It was true. She really was going to have Frank’s baby.
“Much as I enjoy this, ladies, I’m afraid the show’s over.” He pressed a button on the machine, and a few moments later, handed Jess a printout of her baby. His or her first picture. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll be back in a minute with a prescription for prenatal vitamins. I’ve also got a book that will give you all the information you need about diet, rest and the like.”
Emma decided since Meijer’s had everything from a pharmacy, to groceries, to department store merchandise, they were going to stop off there and do some shopping. Jess followed her without protest while they dropped the prescription off, loaded the cart with the foods suggested in the book, and browsed through the infant aisles, all the while gazing at the picture of the baby.
“I wish the doctor could have said for sure whether it was a boy or a girl. Look at this.” Emma held up an adorable pink dress. “If I knew for sure, I’d buy it.”
Wanting to be the first to get gifts for her niece or nephew, Emma added a baby book, two sleepers, a package of bibs, and a stuffed yellow bunny to the already full cart. Never mind that at four months, Jess still had five to go before the baby even arrived.
“I still can’t believe it,” Emma was saying, helping to put the purchases away after they’d returned to the apartment. “I can hardly wait to tell Ty. He’s going to be thrilled.”
“Then I guess that makes four of us.”
“Four?”
“I thought the doctor was kind of happy about it, too,” Jess said with a grin, putting milk and cheese in the mostly empty refrigerator.
“Yeah he was, wasn’t he?” They looked at each other and started to laugh. Impulsively, Emma hugged Jess. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you happy again. You are happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I never thought I would be without Frank, but I am. Now I’ll always have a part of him with me.”
“Yes you will, sweetie.”
Emma was making big plans for a shopping spree on Saturday, two days away. She would do some detective work and find out what babies needed, besides the fun stuff, of course. They would get it all at Sear’s. They had the most adorable Winnie the Pooh things, didn’t they? And maternity clothes would soon be necessary, because Jess was in for a surprise there. It would be a riot to see her with a big belly, wouldn’t it?
“Okay. I guess I should get going before Ty sends out a search party.” Everything put away, they were leaning against the kitchen counter, and Emma couldn’t think of any more excuses to hang around. “We’re on for Saturday?”
“Ten o’clock sharp.”
“And you’re going to have a healthy supper, and a banana and glass of milk before bed?”
“On my honor,” Jess smiled, crossing her heart.
“Make sure you rest, too. That’s really important. It says so right in the book. You should probably read it before you go to bed. But don’t stay up too late...”
“Emma, would you go home?” Jess laughed and took her by the arm, marching her to the door.
“You’ll be all right?” All merriment was gone; in its place sincere concern for her friend’s safety.
“I’ll be fine. After all, I’ve got to take care of Frank’s baby, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do. I know that’s what he’d want.”
“So do I. I promise I’ll be good,” Jess assured her.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive.” She kissed Emma’s cheek. “Thank you for stopping me from doing something stupid.”
“Haven’t I always stopped you from doing stupid things? That’s what sisters are for.”
“They’re also for throwing each other out when one has a husband at home waiting for his supper.”
“I hate to leave you. I’ll worry all night.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Em, take the gun. I don’t need it anymore.”
Emma didn’t wait for Jess to change her mind, tearing off to get it from wherever she’d hidden it earlier. If that didn’t set her mind at ease, Jess didn’t know what would. She’d nearly thrown this child away in an effort to end her pain. Now, thanks to Emma, her baby was safe. She wouldn’t do anything else to cause it harm.
“I’ll call you in the mor
ning,” Emma said, with a smile. “Not before nine, though. I want you to sleep in.”
“Bye, Em.”
“Bye, mom.”
Jess smiled as she closed the door, and went out to the kitchen to start her supper. Just a nuked chicken breast, with a baked potato, and deli salad, but better than half a sandwich, or piece of fruit, as had been her recent habit.
What a day. Filled with despair, she’d been prepared to take Mulholland’s life, and then her own. Now, because of the new life growing inside her, she was happier than she’d been in a long time. Three and a half months, to be precise. There was something to hope for now. Someone to live for.
Satisfied that dinner was coming along nicely, she took the baby’s picture and sat in the recliner, opening the photo album to the eight by ten. Foolishly, she held the baby’s picture up to Frank’s, and smiled tearfully.
“Look at what we made, sweetheart.” A small bit of sadness marred the happiness she’d felt since leaving the doctor’s office. “You would have been the best father in the world, Frank.”
~~~~~
Dan pulled into the Logan Center parking lot, chose a space well away from the other vehicles, and parked. With a sigh, he leaned his head back, and wished he could forget the meeting at his parent’s house.
Molly and his mother hadn’t done much of anything except cry as the attorney talked with them. His father was obviously upset, but felt about the same as Dan. Bruce had known what he was doing, and it wouldn’t be right to try to get him out of this mess, but that was exactly what his mother, sister, and the lawyer planned to do. Or at least try.
If they couldn’t get him off, they wanted to try for the lightest sentence possible. Like alcoholism, drug addicts were ill, and not entirely responsible for their actions. At least that’s what the lawyer was going to argue.
Dan would never forget his father taking him aside before he left – to tell him that he was going to the prosecutor’s office in the morning. As much as he loved his son, he felt they needed to know about all the times Bruce had been treated in rehab. He’d had so many chances to turn his life around, and Nate Mulholland wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Bruce got off too lightly for taking the life of another. Dan had confessed he’d planned to do the same thing, and they arranged to meet there to lend moral support to each another.
Now Dan had to live with the fact that he was going to help put the nails in his brother’s coffin. He knew Bruce deserved everything he got, but bittersweet memories kept pushing to the front of his mind. Of the brother he was once so close to, but hadn’t been in years. He’d had such potential- How could things have gotten so out of control?
He sighed and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. This time yesterday, life was good. Normal. Now he doubted anything would ever be the same again. Didn’t see how it could be. Bruce-
When had he changed from a usually sweet natured teen, into the stranger he’d been for as long as Dan could remember? About the time he’d had gotten his driver’s license and befriended Neil, a good for nothing lowlife.
By the time Dan and his folks realized there was a problem, it had been too late. Bruce was hooked, first on the more affordable marijuana, then later on heroin. And he had to have it, no matter the cost. At first, he stole money from their mother’s purse. Then it escalated to stealing seldom-used things from around the house, like the good silver they only used on holidays and special occasions.
After that, Bruce graduated to errand boy for his dealers, and finally to breaking and entering, actually serving several months in jail a few years ago.
Dan couldn’t count the number of times he’d pleaded with his brother, begged him to help himself, and turn his life around. And sometimes Bruce had tried, checking in to rehab, and staying clean for a few weeks at a time. Those were the times when the brother he remembered resurfaced, and he always hoped that ‘this’ time it would be for good.
If only-
He straightened and smacked the steering wheel. All the ‘if onlys’ in the world wouldn’t help now. If they could, he would turn back time and prevent Bruce’s meeting Neil. Or he would have just given him the two hundred dollars that night. So many things he wished he could have done differently-
But right now there was only today. And all of the tomorrows when he would have to live with the knowledge that his actions, or lack of actions, had caused the death of another man – a newly married man with the whole future ahead of him. A husband, whose beautiful wife was left a grieving, heartbroken widow.
Well, Bruce had made his bed, and there was nothing he could do for him now. But maybe there was something he could do for Mrs. Bentley. Something that might ease a small portion of the guilt he felt.
~~~~~
After living on foods that could be fixed – and eaten – with minimal effort, it felt strange when Jess actually sat at the table to have her meal. Strange, and a little lonely, with just one place setting. Maybe, until the baby was old enough to join her, she should get some TV trays and eat in the living room. Some things were still hard, and her joy too new to risk spoiling.
So she added a set of trays to the hit and miss shopping list for Saturday, then washed the few dishes she’d used.
Maternity clothes, Emma had said? Right. She still fit flush against the edge of the counter, so her stomach was as flat as ever. Wasn’t it? She hadn’t noticed the normal symptoms of pregnancy thus far. Maybe she’d missed this as well.
Feeling self-conscious, she went and lay down on the sofa, pulling her bulky sweater up, and craning her neck to look. Her jeans made it tough to see anything, and she had to unzip them, pushing the denim aside.
There it was.
A slight but definite rounding, scarcely discernible even now, but certainly visible if you knew what you were looking for. She rested her hand against it, marveling again that the baby was okay, despite her negligence of its care.
But no more. She put herself back together and swung her feet to the floor, a look of determination on her face. From here on out, she was going to start putting the needs of this little one first, stop wallowing in self-pity, and get on with the business of living.
At seven o’clock there wasn’t much she could do about it, except maybe some sorely needed dusting. After all, she wanted to bring her baby up in a neat home, didn’t she?
She’d just leaned down to get the furniture polish from under the kitchen sink when the phone rang. It was probably Emma, still worrying over her safety, and ready to run over if she didn’t answer. Or it could be Frank’s father, letting fly with more filthy names and vile accusations. If it were the latter, she supposed she could just hang up.
“Hello?” Jess said reluctantly, tensing until she heard Detective Winslow’s voice. He obviously was relieved to hear hers.
“Mrs. Bentley, I hope you don’t mind, but I just wanted to make sure that you were all right.”
“I’m much better, thanks,” she told him, touched by his concern. “Thanks, too, for calling my friend.”
“She did come then?”
“Oh yes. And she dragged me off to the doctor.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“No. Actually,” she hesitated for a moment, then said shyly, “it looks like I’m going to have a baby.”
“What?” He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d told him she’d sprouted another head.
“I know. I couldn’t believe it either, but he said I’m due in late April.”
“Well congratulations. You must be very happy.” It was more a question than an observation, a fishing trip to assure himself it was true.
“Yes, I am. It’s the best news I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m sure it is. And you had no idea?”
“Not a clue.”
“Amazing. Simply amazing.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Amazing,” Winslow repeated, pausing several seconds before clearing his throat to
continue. “I guess I should go now. Mrs. Bentley, you take care of yourself”
“I’ll do that, thank you.” Unlike that afternoon, she didn’t hesitate to put his mind at ease.
After hanging up, it took all of Jess’s strength to not give in to the depression threatening to bring her down again. But she refused to let it get the best of her. She had to think about the baby, and set about finding something to take her mind off the detective, and the man sitting behind bars now. The thick layer of dust covering everything in the apartment seemed like the perfect way to do it.
It wasn’t long before the living room was sparkling clean, the entertainment center the only thing left to be done. She stood in the middle of the floor, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, just looking at it.
Frank hadn’t actually lived with the other things so it hadn’t been hard to clean them. This was a different matter entirely. Except to play some of the CDs they’d danced to as she looked at the photo album, the last person to handle everything on the shelves had been Frank – the day before they’d married.
To wipe away the dust would be like wiping away his touch, one of the last remnants of his presence.
“I can’t,” she finally murmured, deciding she’d done enough for one day.
Maybe she’d try again tomorrow. Or ask Emma to do it. Or just leave it as a tribute to the husband who would never touch it again.
Her mind made up, she turned toward the kitchen to put the polish and rag away when she was interrupted again, this time by a knock at the door.
Good grief. It had been like Grand Central Station around here today. Setting the things on the table, and brushing her hands on her pant legs, she walked over and opened it.
“Mrs. Bentley?” The tall, dark haired man standing there appeared to be uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere else than on her walkway.
“Yes?” Jess closed the door a little, not caring if she seemed rude. She knew from experience that darkness and strangers could be lethal.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come but...” He paused, like he was trying to gather his thoughts. Jess waited impatiently, wishing he would state his business and go away. “I- I wanted you to know how sorry I am about what happened, and to tell you that if you need anything, and I mean anything at all, you only need call me and it’s yours.”