Sleeping With the Enemy (25 page)

“Can I have a few minutes of your time?”

He glanced at his watch.  “As long as it doesn’t take very long.  I have to meet my wife at the doctor’s office in a half-hour.”   

“I’ll be quick.  I promise.”

She pulled up a chair and sat primly, knees and ankles together, hands clasped in her lap.  “You always said we could come to you any time we had a problem.  Right?”

“Of course.  My door’s always open.”

“I probably shouldn’t be coming to you, but I don’t know who else to turn to.  You’re my favorite teacher, and you’ve always been so nice to me, and—”  She paused, blushed cherry red.

He leaned back in his chair.  More gently, he said, “Is this problem related to your school work?”

“No.  It’s personal.”

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he remembered the notes that he’d locked away in his desk drawer, the notes he was almost certain Amanda had written.  He’d intended to show them to Henry today, but with all his efforts concentrated on trying to snare the attention of students who were still pumped up from ten days of Christmas vacation, he’d completely forgotten.  Jesse clasped his hands together, wondering how to approach the situation.  He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. 

“I’m pregnant,” she said.  “And if my parents find out, they’ll kill me.”

It was the last thing he’d expected to hear.  He gaped at her, with her straggly hair, her scrawny legs, her flat chest, and her colorless, self-effacing manner, and wondered how this marvel of conception could possibly have taken place.  He’d never seen Amanda even talking to a boy.  She was the kind of girl who was invisible to hormone-driven teenage boys, all of whom were busy fantasizing about the prom queen or Hollywood’s latest flavor of the month.  He cleared his throat.  “Pregnant,” he said.  “Ah…by whom?”

Amanda hung her head, refused to meet his eyes.  Softly, she said, “I’m not sure.”

“Not sure?” he said, seeking clarification.

“There were a few guys.”

Ye gods and little fishes. 
This was out of his realm of experience.  Way out.  “Are you sure?” he said.  “Did you go to a doctor?”

In horror, she said, “Geez, no! My parents would find out and they’d kill me!  I had a friend drive me to Farmington.  We bought one of those home pregnancy things and we did it at her house.  It came out positive.”

He steepled his fingers on his desk top.  “Amanda,” he said, “this is a pretty serious problem.”

“I know.  Oh, God, Mr. L, what am I going to do?”

“I guess that depends, at least in part, on what you want to do.  There are options.  You just have to find the right one.”

“My dad will throw me out of the house if he finds out.”

“Maybe you should give your parents a little more credit than that.  I’m sure they love you very much and they’ll do whatever they can to help you.”

“Yeah.  Right.”

“I think you should tell them.  They might surprise you.  Let them help you figure out what to do.  That’s what parents are for, to help kids out when they get themselves into a mess like this.”

“You really think I should tell them?”

“I really think you should.  Have you talked to Mrs. Stebbins?” Cheryl Stebbins was the school guidance counselor, and a real whiz at dealing with these life-altering issues.

Amanda sniffed.  “No.”

“She’s a really nice lady.  I bet she’d be willing to help you break the news to your parents.  And then she’d have some ideas about what you should do next.”

“Okay.”

He maneuvered her down the hallway to the guidance office, praying that Cheryl Stebbins would still be there.  The light was on in her office, and she was hunched over a student file on her desk.  Cheryl looked up with a friendly smile, caught the somber expression in his eyes.  “Hey, there,” she said cautiously.

Jesse introduced Amanda, briefly outlined the situation, then left her in Cheryl’s capable hands.  He pulled on his coat as he was rushing down the corridor.  The clock over the front door read 3:22.  If he hurried, he’d be just a few minutes late for Rose’s ultrasound.  He didn’t want to hold things up.  Tonight, they were driving to Portland for the
Romeo and Juliet
performance.  Rose had tried to get her appointment rescheduled so they’d have time to treat Jolene and Tessa to dinner before the play.  But Dr. Levasseur was booked up weeks in advance, so he and Rose had decided to keep the appointment.  As long as they could stick to a tight schedule, they’d still have time to take the girls out to dinner.

The afternoon was dismal, dark and blustery and starting to spit snow.  Barely three-thirty, but already the street lights were on, snowflakes drifting lazily in the orangey glow of the sodium arc lights.  He raced across town, pulled into the parking lot of Rose’s obstetrician a mere eight minutes late.  As he flew into the reception area, Beverly Morneault glanced up from behind the desk and grinned.  He’d known Bev since seventh grade.  “Room 2,” she said.  “First door on the right.”

Jesse paused in front of the closed door, realized his hands were shaking.  All along, he’d known, intellectually at least, that the baby he and Rose had created was real.  But at the prospect of seeing for himself, of watching those moving pictures of his unborn child, reality slammed him hard in the gut.  For the first time he realized, not with his head, but with his heart, that he was thirty-six years old and about to become a father again.  He would be fifty-four when this child graduated from high school.  He and Rose were clearly, indubitably, insane.

He felt a little faint.  Behind him, he heard footsteps.  “Jesse?” Bev said.  “Are you all right?”

He swallowed, ducked his head to hide his embarrassment.  “I’m fine,” he lied.

Bev touched his arm.  “Don’t feel so bad about it,” she said cheerfully.  “We’ve only lost one or two fathers over the years.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, saw her wicked grin.  “You’ll be fine, my friend,” she said, and patted his shoulder.  “You think the ultrasound’s bad, just wait’ll you get to the delivery.”

***

She was already lying on the table with cold, slick gel spread on her distended belly and bitter disappointment welling up inside her when the door opened and Jesse came in.  “Sorry I’m late,” he said, and her disappointment turned to relief as he stood beside her and gave her one of those incredible smiles.

“Just in time,” Dr. Levasseur said as she adjusted a couple of buttons on the ultrasound machinery.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rose whispered.

Jesse shook his head.  “Student crisis.  I’ll tell you later.”

“Pull up a stool, Dad,” the doctor said, “and let’s get this show on the road.”

He sat down beside her, and together they watched the monitor in fascination as the doctor moved the wand over Rose’s belly.  “There,” she said, “there’s the baby’s head.  See that?”

Rose lay silent, mesmerized by the sight of her unborn child, displayed in murky monochromatic colors on the screen.

“And there—” Deborah Levasseur moved the wand for a better view.  “—is an arm.  And there’s a leg.  Can you see that?”

It all looked alike to her.  How Deb could tell one limb from another was beyond her.  She looked up at Jesse to see if he was as mystified by the procedure as she was, but he was beyond reach, leaning forward intently, lost somewhere in that shadowy world that was the interior of her womb.

“All right, folks.” Deb moved her hand and the wand slithered across Rose’s sticky belly.  “Want to know what you’re having?”

Rose glanced at Jesse again.  This time, his eyes met hers, and he nodded. 

“Remember, this procedure isn’t one hundred percent accurate, so don’t go mortgaging the farm on my say-so.  You could get a big surprise later on.  Still, I’d say chances are pretty darn good that you’re having a girl.”

A girl
, Rose thought. 
The daughter he’s never had
.  She didn’t care either way; boy or girl, she already had one of each.  But she knew that Jesse secretly wanted a daughter, and her heart welled with tenderness. 

For the first time, he spoke.  “Does she look healthy?”

“Everything looks fine,” Deb assured him.  “Rose is doing a great job.  She’s eating right, not gaining too much weight, and by the look of things, she’s in a happy place right now.  So there you have it, folks.  I’d say in about four more months, you’ll be having yourselves a fine, healthy little girl.” She removed the wand, turned off the monitor, and mopped up the goop from Rose’s stomach.  “Just keep on doing whatever it is you’re doing, and make an appointment to see me again in a month.”

Rose was in the outer office, waiting for the receptionist to get off the phone, when she glanced up and saw Torey Spaulding’s sister sitting in the waiting room.  The woman met her eyes, then dropped the magazine she’d been reading and got up from her chair.

The receptionist handed Rose a reminder card for her next appointment.  She took it absently, her attention focused on the approaching woman.

“Mrs. Lindstrom? I’m Torey’s sister.  Patty Inman.”

“I know who you are,” Rose said.  “I’ve seen you with Torey.”

“I need to talk to you.” She glanced at Jesse and bit her lower lip.  “In private.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Jesse said.

Patty looked around the crowded waiting room.  “Hang on,” Rose told her, and approached the receptionist again.  “Do you have an empty room we could use for a minute or two?”

The receptionist glanced at Patty, then back at Rose.  “Number three,” she said.  “Down the hall on the left.”

Rose closed the door of the examination room and faced Patty Inman.  “What’s happened?”

“Torey’s in the hospital.”

Grimly, Rose said, “What did that son of a bitch do to her?”

“He beat her something awful, as soon as he found out she came to see you again.”

The roof of her mouth went dry.  “Oh, Jesus.”

“I’ve tried to tell her, time and time again, that she’s gotta leave him, Mrs.  Lindstrom, but she wouldn’t ever listen.  Buddy told her he’d kill her if she ever left him, and I believe he meant it.  And I’m afraid—”  The woman’s eyes filled with tears.  “I’m afraid that one of these days, he’s really gonna do it.”

“Do you think she’s ready to leave him now?”

“I think she’ll go now.  If you tell her it’s the right thing.  She thinks you’re practically Mother Teresa.  She’ll listen to you.”

Jesse was waiting outside, in his Jeep, with the engine running.  He lowered the window to talk to her.  “I have to go,” she said.  “One of my clients.  Her husband put her in the hospital.”

“Torey Spaulding,” he said flatly.

“I have to talk to her, Jesse.  I have to help her get away from him.  Next time, he’ll kill her.  I can’t let that happen.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“Yes, it is.  It’s my fault she’s here.  He found out she’d been to see me again, after he’d ordered her to stay away.”

“And what if I ordered you to stay away?”

She touched his cheek.  It felt warm against her cold fingers.  “You know better than that.”

“If you put yourself , and our baby, in jeopardy—”

“Shush.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him.  His lips were warm.  “You know I’d never do that.”

“Rose, you can’t save every battered woman on the planet.  There’s not enough of you to go around.”

“Maybe not,” she said grimly.  “But I can save this one.”

“What about tonight?  The play?”

Damn
.  Her concern for Torey had driven thoughts of
Romeo and Juliet
right out of her head.  “I hate to have to say this, but it looks as though you’re going to have to go without me.  I’m sorry, Jesse.  I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Maybe I should just cancel.”

“No.  Don’t do that because of me.  I know you want to see the play, and the girls will be so disappointed.  Go ahead and have a good time.”

He caught her by the lapels of her coat and pulled her into a quick, hard kiss.  “Be careful,” he said.

She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and watched as he backed out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of home.  His tail lights shimmered in the swirling snow, then disappeared out of sight.  With a sigh, Rose climbed into her car and headed toward the hospital.

She found Torey in a semi-private room on the third floor.  Her swollen face was beginning to turn from purple to green, and for just an instant, Rose’s stomach lurched.  “Mrs. Lindstrom,” the girl whispered.  “Thanks for coming.”

“Patty told me you were here.  I’m so sorry, hon.  I feel like it’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Torey said.  “Shit happens.”

“Yeah.  Shit happens, all right.  Are you ready to leave him now?”

“I got no place to go.”

“We’ll find you a place.”

Torey closed her eyes.  A single tear escaped.  It hovered, caught in her lash, then plopped onto her swollen cheek and ran toward the corner of her mouth.  “He’ll find me,” she said.  “He’ll come get me.”

“No, he won’t.  We won’t tell him where you are.”

“He’ll find me anyway.”

“No.  We’ll find you a safe place to go.  You won’t ever have to see him again.”

“What about my kids?”

“They’ll go with you,” Rose said.  Then a frightening thought occurred to her.  “Where are they? They’re not with Bud, are they?”

“They’re with Patty.  After the cops arrested Bud, she come and got the kids.”

“He’s in jail?”

“He stayed in jail for about two hours.  His folks bailed him out.  You know how it goes.”

“Yeah.” She knew.  And silently damned a system that coddled the perpetrators while refusing to protect their victims.

“What if he makes it hard for Patty?  What if he goes over there and bothers her?  What if he hurts her?”

“He won’t hurt her.  It’s you he wants to hurt.  And if he bothers her, she’ll have him arrested.” Rose took Torey’s hand and squeezed it.  “Are you ready?  Do you want me to find a place for you and the kids to go?”

“Yes,” Torey whispered.

“I’ll take care of it.  You just concentrate on getting better.”