Essence of Time (36 page)

After about an hour, Jack poked his head around the door.  “He needs more pain killer. No sign of the docs yet?” She shook her head. “Somebody should call, Blake let him know we have a delay of game over here.”

Sara said good bye to her parents before they left, then wandered back over, put her arm around Lila. Her phone buzzed. “Hey Julie.” She answered. “No. I mean, he left here easily over an hour ago.” She looked at Jack who shrugged.

“He may have stopped at the grocery.” Lila said, still taking deep breaths of Gabe’s baby smell. “We had less than no food at home.”

“Okay,” Sara spoke into the phone. “I’ll try him. But if he’s not there in fifteen, call me again.” Lila heard tension creep into Sara’s voice that sounded so much like Blake’s she chuckled. Sara sighed, and Jack emerged, put his arm around her. He was damn good at anticipating his wife’s needs, Lila noted, not for the first time. 

Another hour came and went. Sara was pacing now, kept calling Blake’s phone, but only getting voice mail. Lila tried not to match their panic. Blake was fine. Maybe he’d gone home and fallen asleep. God knows he needed it. She nursed Gabe again, watched Rob sleep after finally getting another dose of morphine. She must have dozed off, holding the baby in her arms, warm, toasty, and safe. The second before she awoke she saw him as clear as day. Blake. His green eyes snapping with some mischief or another, his lean strong body loose and relaxed, his face….she gasped, and lurched awake, making the baby shriek with alarm. Rob startled once then settled back into his drug-induced haze. The door was shut, the room unbearably stuffy.

She put the baby back to her breast and he settled to the task, calming her once again. There was some sort of commotion outside the door but she let it go on a bit before noticing a familiar voice. Sara’s. Screaming one word, "No,”over and over again.  Lila’s heart pounded as she put the sleeping infant in his seat, adjusted her shirt and walked what suddenly seemed like miles between the chair and the door as the screaming settled into heart breaking sobs.

She opened the door to find Jack cradling his wife as a nurse knelt next to her holding a needle to her arm, Craig hovering over them both. Jack’s blue eyes were dull as he held Sara still so the woman could stick her. Sara’s mother and father were nowhere to be seen. Then Rob’s doctor’s appeared with a clipboard, headed straight for her his face set in grim lines. She shook her head, backed away.

“No.” She muttered. “No.” The nurse helped Sara up, led her to a nearby room and presumably into a bed. Jack got to his feet, then looked up at her. He and Craig walked toward her. She backed away.

Jack spoke and her world shattered into a million agonizing pieces.

“Honey. There’s been an accident.”

Chapter Eight

Two Years Later

Lila rolled over to escape the bright shaft of sunlight piercing the shades. She reached out in the small bed, found it empty and pulled the cover up over her already expanding shape. Before she called out his name, she remembered where she was. And why.

A soft knock on the door forced her to face reality as opposed to pulling the blanket up and sleeping through this second anniversary date like she really wanted to. “Yeah,” Her voice was croaky, throat dry. A familiar pain settled in around her chest and started to spread.

“Hey,” Sara stood at the door, clad in jeans and a U of M t-shirt, long blonde hair scraped back. Her face was drained of color, but for her red-rimmed eyes. She held two steaming coffee cups, but seemed reluctant to enter the room.

“Come on in,” Lila pulled herself up to seated, trying not to bitch about how unwieldy she’d already gotten at six months. The kid would be big no doubt. Just like the last one. But she smiled and rubbed a hand along the lower edge of her belly, loving the little flutters of life she detected.  “Thanks.” She accepted a mug. “Sit down.” Sara kept her distance at first, and then perched on the edge of the bed, plucking at the ancient unraveling quilt.

“Where is he?” Sara glanced out the small cabin window. Evergreens and shade trees blocked the view of the beach from this room. Lila sighed and sipped and eased the mantle of grief back over her head, unhappy but realizing it was a step she—that they all—needed to take. She looked up at the sounds of happy childish squeals and bare feet stomping up the steps headed to the kitchen. “Jack’s got breakfast,” Sara patted Lila’s foot.

Lila frowned then let go of her worries about sugar overload. It distracted the older girls from the reality of the day. The boys had no real frame of reference for why everyone was so sad. It was almost summer. They were at a cabin on the beach at Lake Michigan.

Why be sad? Why indeed?

Sara blew out a puff of air. “Yeah. Jack’s specialty: pancakes and ice cream for breakfast. He hasn’t quite graduated from that.” Lila smiled at her, watching as Sara’s deep green eyes went watery again. “Sorry.” Sara lowered her head and Lila watched dully, the pregnancy making her slow to react as tears dripped onto her friend’s lap.  “How is that I’m always such a mess and you…”

They leaned into each other a minute. “I don’t know," Lila admitted, but knew that she kept most of her grief private, possibly to her detriment, but there it was.

Sara put a hand on Lila’s stomach. “I’m so glad you guys decided to have another baby.  Really I am."

Lila tried to smile. “Well, I don’t know if it’s going to fix anything. We still aren’t…” She stopped, unwilling to share even with Blake’s sister how deep and wide the chasm of non-communication that existed in her house. It terrified her at times. She honestly did not know if they’d ever get past it.

Suddenly the memory image of Sara sobbing and slumped to the floor against Jack rose, unbidden. Luckily they were already in a hospital. Sara got immediate treatment. Jesus, if she never ever saw the inside of a hospital again it would be too soon. Lila rose and headed for the bathroom. She needed time to think. Time to gather herself together, before she faced him.

**** 

When she emerged, showered and determined not to spend the entire fucking day crying, the kids were already out in the upper lawn, kicking a soccer ball around. She put her forehead to the cool glass and watched them. Her daughter, Maddie, with her partner in crime, Katie, bossing their younger brothers around. Being their fathers' sons to a tee, neither small boy was inclined to be bossed, however, so the resulting melee approached apocalyptic. She glanced over her shoulder. Jack stood, coffee mug in hand, watching them. “I’ll step in in a second.” He declared, putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Mom!” Finally Maddie screeched up from below. “Tell Gabe to stop stepping on my feet on purpose…Mom!”  She pounded up the steps. Stopped when she saw her mother. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Mommy.” Lila held her daughter while the girl cried herself out.  Katie put her arm around her dad’s waist deep green eyes so like her mother’s and uncle’s remained dry. Lila wished she would cry some. Let it go. But she hadn’t even then and didn’t seem inclined to now either. 

Jack kissed the top of his daughter's head, steered her back outside. “Go. Play. Be in charge of the boys and try not to kill each other. I’ll be down in a minute to take you guys out on the boat.”

Later, after a therapeutic cleaning of the nearly destroyed kitchen, Lila sat on the deck, sipping orange juice and watching the horizon. Sara slipped into the seat next to her. The quiet between them weighed heavy.  Sara put a hand over Lila’s. “Where does he go?”

Lila pointed south. “Oh, all the way to the point, out to the lighthouse. He’ll be back for… you know... later.” 

Sara nodded but they kept their hands clasped together tightly for at least fifteen minutes. Lila startled when Sara stood and stretched.  “So, he’s okay, right?”

Lila kept her eyes trained on the beach. “Yeah. I mean, he has to be right? Thanks for coming this year. Really. I know it isn't easy.”

“It’s better this way,” Sara leaned on the railing. The sounds of Jack and the kids floated up and over them. Birds sang. Wind rustled the trees. The water lapped at the edge of the beach. Lila’s vision blurred. All the usual sounds, the normal activity, but he was still gone. The nightmare simply would not end. Lila stood, unwilling to sit any longer. “Hey, where are you…” Sara called after her.

She kept walking, ignoring everything. Her body required movement more than anything right now. She made her way down the huge flight of steps. The warm sand on her feet made her smile but the tears kept coming. The goddamned, motherfucking, non-stop tears. Anger surged but she repressed it. The baby gave a soft flutter, but it didn’t have its usual effect on her, irritating instead of soothing.  She should not have agreed to another child. Not now. It had been an act of desperation and she knew it.

She headed in one direction, needing one thing. To see him, feel his arms around her. After all they’d been through, to be dealt this bullshit hand from life’s deck was simply too much. Plus, he had no right to be alone. She needed him now. They all did.  It was selfish to stay apart from them.  After about two miles she sat, and caught her breath. She let a large, cool rock prop her up and closed her eyes. Almost immediately she realized in that half-sleep state, that it was too late—she’d gone back there.

The white room, the bleeps and constant noises of a busy hospital. The god awful smell that she couldn’t get out of her nose. The baby’s cries. Maddie’s constant questioning about Rob, why he was so sick. What was happening? The lack of sleep. It had been the worst sort of nightmare.

She’d let it fool her. The "cancer librarian," he called it at the end, "calling his book due." Her eyes flickered as she tried to block the last bit even in her dream. But it came anyway, dark, and cloaked in horror. A lung transplant was unlikely although he was first on the list, according to the terminally chipper transplant team. He’d refused chemo. Wanted to hold his child, enjoy his family without feeling worse because of the “cure.”

“Fuck chemo.” He kept saying. Blake had played along. She wanted to throttle them both, but she’d had a baby to handle. They’d camped out at the damn hospital for so long when the doctors had declared Rob ready for hospice she’d screamed, lashed out at Blake, scratched at his face. The denial had been so deeply ingrained in her she thought, just maybe, she could tear its eyes out—the cancer librarian's, the sadistic bitch crooking her ugly finger to take her man away from her. 

Blake had held her tight, his strong arms keeping her from hurting him or herself or anyone else. They’d cried, together, her sucking in huge lungsful of his scent—the malty, yeasty, hoppiness he always carried around on him. He’d kissed her and forced her to look into his eyes. 

“We're taking him home Lila. No hospital. No hospice, none of that shit. He hates hospitals. We will take him home. Okay? You and me.” She’d nodded.  And the arrangements were made. 
 

Blake had rushed in and out to sort the ambulance transport. His nervous energy had made them all antsy. Sara and Jack and Craig had lingered in the hallway, waiting. Julie had the kids at Jack and Sara’s. Maddie and Katie had been promised some time with Rob. But Lila had her reservations about it for some reason.  Blake had hugged her, sat with Rob, talking softly and brushing his hair back. She shivered in her sleep, recalling the two of them. The last time she saw them together. Their amazing power, their love, their need for each other. Rob had reached out with his other hand and pulled her close.

“Go on, get home” He’d insisted, innately trying to put Blake at ease. “Make some popcorn. I’m starving and I want to sit and watch soccer on my god damned gigantic TV with you guys. We’ll catch up.” He’d pushed Blake away. Blake was to pick up the girls, meet them at home and Lila would take the ambulance ride with Rob.

An hour later Julie called Sara, wondering if there had been a change in the plan.

As is the way with true nightmares, this one was too much and Lila forced herself awake, startled at how much the light had shifted.
How long had she slept?
She struggled to her feet, dusted her hands on her thighs and kept going. The one thing she needed was not to be alone right now. She needed him. They had to get past this, or their relationship would be worth squat, all the anguish for nothing.

The promontory with the picturesque lighthouse swam in her wavering vision. She stepped up on to the warm concrete, smiling at the sight of his back. He sat, legs swinging out over the side. Kids with dogs and families ran across, around and behind her, but she kept her eyes trained on his broad shoulders. The pain was there again, somewhere between her chest and stomach, tightening and twisting.

Lila gasped. Why did he still seem so far away? Would she ever get there? Was he just a figment of her imagination? She stumbled a little. The survivor guilt they both lugged around had kept them silent and unhappy for a solid year. And still things were not right. She meant to fix that.

He rose, threw a few more rocks out onto the lake, turned and saw her. He put his hands in pockets as she walked up to him. She reached up, cradled his handsome, slightly scruffy face in her hands. His eyes were wet, but not quite as sad. He smiled, leaned down to kiss her and run his hand along the new swell of their child.

He held her while she sobbed. “It’s okay.” He soothed. “I talked to him today. He said to get the fuck over ourselves and get on with it. To tell Sara and Jack and Katie and Maddie the same thing.” Rob’s voice hitched a little as she tightened her grip around his waist.  “He didn’t give up these lungs just for me to lose sight of how important you are to me.” Rob pushed her back, gazed at her with such intensity she nearly gasped. “I love you, Lila. I love our life. I love him still, but he’s gone. I won’t lose you too.” She nodded, bit her lip and let him kiss her once more. He broke away, staring at her with a frightening intensity. “Marry me. Be my wife. Please.” She looked away.