Chapter Four #2
It happened so fast that I had no idea how she did it, but River Pearl ninjaed or vampire-morphed over to Brax.
Grabbing his arm, she swept his feet out from under him, somehow getting her hands on the water pistol, and suddenly Brax was flat on his back on the ground, a stunned look on his face.
River Pearl gave him a sugar-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth look and knelt down, shoved that pistol down the front of his jeans and soaked him but good.
I doubled over and laughed so hard my stomach hurt, leaving me wide open to River Pearl and her superpowers of moving like lightning and knocking a man on his ass. She was just there, getting me in a headlock. She unloaded Brax’s pilfered pistol right in my face.
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice breaking with exertion and laughter, “You started this.”
Booker came to my rescue, shoved the pistol under her T-shirt and soaked her. She squealed and shoved away from me, dropping the pistol. I’d lost mine in my laughter and dived for hers. Grabbing it up, I nailed her in the face.
And then all hell broke loose again.
By the time a truce was declared, the deck was awash. We were all soaked.
I propped myself up on the deck railing with my arm around Verity, so out of breath from wrestling, laughing, and inhaling water, my nose burned and my lungs were waterlogged.
Brax was watching River Pearl, a look of amused tolerance in his eyes. “Nice shirt,” he said gruffly, referring to the drenched T-shirt plastered to her chest.
Booker, who was standing off to the side, his forehead resting against Aubree’s, his chest heaving, grinned like a fool and tried to get his hands under his wife’s tank top. “Yeah,” he responded, his tone provocative. “Nice shirt.”
“Looks like I’m going to have to pull out the moonshine and boxing gloves,” Brax said.
“Uh-uh,” Aubree shook her head emphatically. “I’ve got a better idea. Saturday night we’ll have a Santa Contest. There will be six categories: The Onomatopoeia. For you laymen, that means laughter.”
“The Ho Ho Ho category,” River Pearl supplied.
“The Belly Shake…and that will be open to interpretation, the Kris Kringle Q&A, then Christmas Trivia, and finishing with Reindeer Games.”
Brax rolled his eyes. “Who will be the judge?”
Aubree slapped Booker’s hands away with a smirky giggle. “We will.”
“Ahhh, does that mean whatever trip wins, his significant other gets to be Mrs. Claus instead of an elf?”
“Correct.” Aubree nodded. “Fair?”
There was nodding and mumbling of “fair” all around. “Okay, everyone get in here.”
We walked over to where she was and put our hands in together and when Aubree called, “Break,” we all yelled and whooped.
Brax grabbed River Pearl around the waist and drew her close. “So, sugar, where did you learn those moves?”
She grabbed his chin and looked him dead in the eye. “Death taught me.” He threw his head back and laughed with the rest of us.
***
VERITY
The elevator door swished shut, and I leaned back against the wall, swallowing against the awful feeling of vertigo that washed over me. I shivered and rubbed my arms, trying to warm up. I was cold. So cold. And I felt as if one wrong move would send my stomach into open revolt.
It was time for my volunteer shift, and I kept myself going fueled solely by adrenaline and determination.
They had told me to report to the sixth floor.
Opening my eyes, I stared at the flashing floor indicator lights, fighting to contain the nearly unbearable ache in my throat.
I couldn’t let it run away with me, that awful pressure in my chest.
I had come to Lafayette to have lunch with Boone, and it had been wonderful.
He’d taken me to this new restaurant he’d landscaped.
While we ate he talked about what was going on at work, I couldn’t help looking around and thinking that he was such a nurturer, had such a way with growing things and people.
“You really do amazing work, Boone. You have such a gift.”
He shrugged. “I’ve always had a green thumb.”
I reached out and clasped his hand, “Not just with plants. You are so wonderful with Henry now his mom is gone, and he’s stuck with a mean, violent step-daddy.”
“I know. I wish there was something I could do about it, but what?”
“Just continue to be there for him.”
“I was thinking of having him come to the Santa contest tomorrow. He’d like that.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Oh, that reminds me. River Pearl needs Duel’s letter to Santa and a picture. Could you handle that? I’ve got those costumes to make and my design work is piling up.”
“Of course. I’ll do that and get it to her.”
Anyone who ever met Boone loved him.
Yet there was something different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He seemed fine, but there was something off with the way he touched me, and the smiles didn’t quite light up his eyes the way they used to.
I had chalked it up to the stress of waiting for the tests.
It was Friday, and we had been on pins and needles.
It was probably just anxiety and worry about our impending news.
Men usually had more trouble expressing themselves, since so many of them had been conditioned to repress their emotions.
They were trained to be more instructional, to take charge, to make decisions, and to think without being sidetracked by emotions.
It was no surprise that he wasn’t himself.
About six months ago, Aubree had mentioned there was a shortage of volunteers at Lafayette, and I signed up for them to call me in when they needed me. It wasn’t often, but I was happy to help out.
When my phone chimed after I left Boone’s office with a kiss and a hug, I answered to find out they needed a volunteer.
Then right after that, Doctor Hardy’s assistant called to have me come in to meet with Dr. Hardy.
I hesitated and thought about going back to check with Boone, have him come with me to get the news, but suddenly, I couldn’t.
I knew it was going to be good news, and I wanted to be the one to tell him face-to-face that we were going to be fully functioning parents again.
But, when I had walked into Dr. Hardy’s Office her expression was closed and pinched. My stomach dropped to my toes, and I realized I had made a terrible mistake coming here without Boone.
“Verity, I’m so very sorry. In my expert opinion, your uterus has lost the ability to enlarge and with that comes enormous risks to you and any unborn child you conceive.
I strongly recommend that you think about your options here, expand your family in different ways.
Take steps to prevent any further pregnancies. ”
“What? I was so sure…”
“All your tests came back glowing. You are quite fertile, and everything is healthy, except your uterus.”
“What is wrong with it?”
“The MRI shows quite a bit of scar tissue where it’s been repaired twice in the same area. I’m afraid it won’t function correctly when it needs to expand for a fetus. The chances of it rupturing are…one hundred percent.”
“There’s no hope?”
“I’m afraid not. I know this is a terrible blow, but there are options.” She continued to talk, but I couldn’t seem to comprehend what she was saying. I just couldn’t seem to shift my perspective from despair to hope.
“Options? What options? I can’t carry a baby. My husband and I can’t have any more children.” My voice was too calm, even to my ears.
She got up and came around the desk. “I want you to go home and rest. I can give you something to help.”
“Thank you, but I think it would be better if I kept busy. I have a toddler.”
“Verity, talk to your husband, then come back and we’ll talk about your options then, after you’ve had time to process this devastating news. Please call me directly with any questions you may have, or if you need guidance.”
My lips felt stiff when I responded. “Thank you. I have to talk to my husband.” I needed Boone, but I couldn’t seem to make my muscles move right now. Everything had been so perfect, so magical for us until Thanksgiving and Aubree’s mom’s simple question. Had that just been a week ago?
Now it seemed as if my life was crashing down around me.
Boone and I had the most terrible fight of our marriage, something about him had changed, and I had failed him.
We would never have a chance to share a pregnancy.
We wouldn’t have that closeness, or joy, or connection.
I’d never again feel a child moving inside me.
I rose, forcing myself to my feet as Dr. Hardy handed me a prescription. “Just in case you need it.”
I nodded and took the paper, tucking it inside my bag.
I was thankful I had my volunteer job right now. It would take my mind off this dreadful news. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, trying to will away the trapped feeling that suddenly pressed down on me. An hour. That’s all they needed. Then I could go home.
The elevator slid to a stop, the jolt making my stomach lurch, and I took a fortifying breath, moving forward as the door opened. Drawing myself together, I stepped off the elevator, turning toward the desk, dread settling like a rock in my abdomen.
I checked in with the nurse like an automaton.
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Outlaw. Yes, end of the hall, Nurse Merrick is expecting you.”
I walked to the end of the hall and then stopped dead. The nursery. The wide glass a window into new, tiny, squirming life.
My breath hitched, and I turned away, fumbling for the phone. I pressed my automatic dial for Boone. When he answered, I whispered. “Boone. Could you come to the hospital? I need you. I’m on the sixth floor.”
“Verity? Are you all right?”
“No, not exactly, but I don’t want to explain over the phone. Can you come now?”
“Yes, but I’m like thirty minutes away.”
“That’s okay. Don’t rush. I’m fine. I just need to see you in person.”
“All right. I’m on my way.
“Verity? Hi,” Debbie Merrick said. “Thanks for volunteering. It’s been hectic today, and we need someone to rock the preemies. It’d only be for an hour.”
I whirled around and was going to beg off and tell her that I felt sick. Then I changed my mind. She needed someone, and suddenly I needed to hold a newborn in my arms.
I put on a gown and mask, entered the nursery area, sat down in the rocker, and accepted the first little bundle into my arms. When the warmth of her little body registered, I gritted my teeth.
When I stroked her little fist, she opened up her hand and wrapped it around my finger.
My heart melted, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling down into her sweet little face.
I cooed at her, my troubles taking a backseat to this little girl’s needs.
“You’re so brave…” I whispered. “You’re going to be feisty, aren’t you? ”
The memory of holding Duel for the first time tore at my heart, and the reality of never being a mother again was almost too much to bear. It was strange that I hadn’t thought about it during the past year and a half, since my life was so full with Boone and Duel.
Really, conceiving again hadn’t crossed my mind, because I was so content, so fulfilled. But now I knew I couldn’t, now it wasn’t a choice anymore, it consumed me. Guilt and anger and despair consumed me.
It was a little frightening how a crisis could shrink time, how things I’d forgotten were suddenly recycling in my mind.
Things I didn’t want to remember. Closing my eyes, I tried to will away the growing tightness in my chest, tried to will away the misery that settled around my heart.
I shouldn’t have come here alone. I shouldn’t have withheld this vital information from Boone. Tears seeped beneath my lashes.
Boone, I’m so sorry.
I opened my eyes and knew he’d be standing there, at the window, looking in at me while I rocked this newborn.
My heart rate suddenly accelerated to double time.
I bit my lip, struggling for control, and I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he knew.
It was probably written all over my face, and I rose, my eyes glued to his, approaching the glass to reach out and press my palm flat against it, supporting the tiny bundle with my other arm.
Very slowly, he raised his arm and pressed his big hand against the glass, right up against mine. Oh, the look on his face. The solemn lines around his mouth, and the somberness in his expressive blue eyes, tugged at my heart.
With a start of recognition, I vividly recalled the last time I saw that remote, self-contained expression. It had been when I slipped into his hospital bed after we’d both been wounded by Billy Joe. He’d been haggard and unshaven, that horrible cut on his cheek.
Boone would do anything for me. I knew that, and the guilt only pressed harder.
He was so noble he would go through with his threat to get a vasectomy, and I couldn’t let him do that.
He was still so young, only twenty-two. What if somewhere down the road, something did happen to me?
Then he wouldn’t be able to experience the joy of birthing a child with someone else.
No, it was up to me to make the decision to take action.
I would get my tubes tied. I didn’t want sex with me to stress him out. Getting past this would be hard enough. It was up to me to protect him the way he’d always protected me.
I reached out to him in my desolation, and he responded, bolstering me.
For an instant, there was a connection between us that flowed like a tangible force.
His gaze silently broadcast that he was totally in tune with me, aware and accepting of my guilt and regret.
Suddenly the ache in my throat was for his silent forgiveness.
Once we were home and in bed, quietly holding each other, I felt immensely better.
“I should get my tubes tied. Don’t you think?”
His arms tightened around me. He said, “Why you?”
“You’re not the damaged one. You shouldn’t have to pay the price.” I shifted in his arms, facing him and ran my hand over his shoulder. “I want to do this. If something happens to me down the road, you could still have children.”
“Aw, darlin’,” he said, his voice fierce. “What you don’t realize is you are my world, and if something happens to you, there would be no future marriage for me.”
That’s when I broke down and Boone held me through wrenching sobs that tore my guts to shreds, hurting for him, for myself and for our son.
I had kept so much to myself, but right now I needed to save our marriage. If I didn’t talk to him openly, if we didn’t share every one of the thoughts and feelings keeping us apart, I feared it would destroy our marriage.
Had I already done irreparable harm?