Wreckage (30 page)

“I’ve done this twice. That worked out well, right?”

David has retreated to the opposite side of the shelter, as though putting distance between us now will undo the past five months we’ve spent together. He folds himself in half, his knees pulled tight against his chest.

“Do you honestly think this could turn out all right?” he asks, his voice trembling with hope, or maybe fear. “Do you think you can have a baby, here, and survive?”

I’m not sure he wants my honest opinion, so I tell him what he wants to hear, what I want to believe. “Yes, David, I do. That means you’re going to be a father.”

“A father,” he whispers as though savoring the word. “But what about . . .”

“We aren’t going to worry now,” I order. I can’t go over a list of things that could go wrong with this pregnancy. “I have to be at least four months into this, maybe closer to five. We have a few months to plan so right now, let’s just pretend we’re safe and you just found out you’re having a baby.”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he says, his voice stronger. “I didn’t mean to come off like that, like I don’t want a child with you. If we were home, if we were safe like you said, there would be nothing I’d rather hear than you were carrying my child.” I can see the mantle of fatherhood resting on his shoulders. It makes him sit up and unfold his legs with resolve. “We’re going to do this. I’ll do whatever I can to take care of you and the baby. Our baby.”

“The first thing you can do is get over here and kiss me.” I extend my hand. I need to touch him; he calms me, and right now my heart and mind are racing.

“I can do that.” David leaps toward me. When he leans over to kiss me, his right hand cradles my face as though it’s the most precious item on the planet, his left hand rests on my belly. I’m impressed at how easily he loves this unborn child. I can’t wrap my brain around it, and the fetus is growing inside
my
body. A baby. I always wanted a third, always tried to get Jerry on board with the idea but he was never a fan of the plan. Said a family of four is optimal for vacations and dining out. I always thought those were odd reasons to limit our family but I never thought it would happen this way. This is not Jerry’s baby.

I try to forget my worries in the welcoming embrace of David’s celebratory kiss. My lips move against his automatically. Yet it isn’t desire that stirs inside me this time, it’s fear. I focus on David, trying to pull myself away from the spiral of doubt that threatens to pull me down.

CHAPTER 27

DAVE

Present

“We’d been on the island a few months. It was just after the New Year, if I remember correctly, when she figured it out.” Dave felt strong after spending the break with Beth and the baby. Feeling his little kicks reminded him of Paul, but in a good way.

Unlike talking with Genevieve. She made him remember in a very painful way, a way he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Like how every time she said Paul’s name, Dave saw his face, his sweet, tiny, perfect little face. The face he’d never see again. The face he’d failed.

“When she told you and Kent, what did you think? What was your reaction?” Genevieve leaned forward, notes crunched on her lap between her legs and her flat stomach. She apparently didn’t need notes for this part of the interview.

“We were shocked, of course, and scared. Kent was mad at first—worried about another mouth to feed—but as her belly grew and little Paul made himself known with kicks and nudges, even Kent softened up.”

“How did Lillian fare on the island, pregnant?”

“It was very difficult, as you could expect. We worked incredibly hard to get her food and water but it was impossible to get enough calories in there for her and the baby. She lost weight—
more
weight, I should say. We all lost weight after the crash but the bigger her belly grew, the more withered the rest of her became.”

That was so hard for Dave to watch. To this day, Lillian had no idea how emaciated she became as she grew that little boy, one blessing of having no mirrors. But Dave remembered all too well.

She was still frail the last time he saw her, when she was in California for the Carlton awards dinner with her friend, or should he say bodyguard. He’d picked them both up at LAX, waiting painfully right outside of the security line.

Someone must’ve tipped off the press, because several rogue cameras flanked him a few feet away on either side. After three months at home, Dave was starting to find cameras commonplace. He’d been working on ignoring them sitting outside his house and gym, but when he saw Lily standing on the moving walkway, they were the only reason he didn’t break through the invisible security line and scoop her up in his achingly empty arms. Instead, he waited.

He counted the noiseless footsteps from when she turned the corner to when she recognized him. Would happiness to see him be written in bold capital letters or delicate curvy wisps? But, large dark sunglasses covered her easy-to-read eyes and her face was empty, completely vacant of any emotion.

Dave told himself she didn’t see him, that her smile would break through as soon as his face registered through the tinted glass, but it didn’t. His heart sank as she walked, zombielike, toward him, leaning on the tall redhead’s arm. Lily’s friend was willowy and full of life, working a sad kind of contrast to the wilted and drooping Lily. It made Dave angry. He wanted to pull the two apart, rip off the glasses, and ask her who was responsible for the sadness that trailed after her like smoke. Instead he shook Jill’s hand mutely.

“Dave, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jill Spears.” The handshake was brief and hastily withdrawn.

Dave nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we can finally meet.” He spoke the social script, eyes never leaving Lillian’s flaccid face.

“Yes. Same here.” She didn’t even attempt to smile, readjusting the carry-on slipping off her shoulder. “Listen, Lillian’s a little under the weather. Her doctor prescribed some anti-anxiety meds for the plane trip and they haven’t worn off yet.” She eyed the clicking cameras. “I think we should make our way to the car as quickly as possible. We didn’t check anything.”

“All right. Why don’t you let me take your bags?” He had grabbed the rolling suitcase from her hand and one of the heavy duffels from her shoulder when Jill leaned into him, whispering.

“Take Lillian, quick. She’s getting a little tippy.” She handed over Lillian’s arm, which sagged like a wet towel. Dave almost fell over with the shock of her weight in his hands.

“The car’s this way.” Dave coaxed Lillian through the clicking cameras, smiling and waving the whole way, and then out to the parking garage, where his car was waiting.

He guided Lily. No, not Lily. The woman dressed in a gray cotton T-shirt and wide-legged jeans held no resemblance to
his
Lily. This woman must be the Lillian he’d heard so much about.

As Jill droned on about kids and home, Dave thanked the universe Jerry hadn’t come. It would have been impossible to put on a good face for him, impossible to keep out the accusations that danced through his thoughts. Instead, he nodded at Jill’s stories and smiled in the spots he knew he should until he’d settled Lillian into the backseat, clicked the seat belt around her, and put the car into drive.

“Now, how’s she
really
doing?” Dave asked, merging into LA rush-hour traffic, checking for the third time over the seat to see if Lillian was still sleeping. Jill raised her arm up into the air and jangled the shiny silver bracelets down toward her elbow.

“If I’m being honest?” Jill rubbed her lips together nervously. “Not well. Don’t get me wrong, she’s beside herself with happiness to be back with her family, but there’s a lot different about her.”

“She’s been through a lot,” he whispered. The memory of what they’d both been through, together, was now like a constant dull toothache.

“Yes. I’m worried about her, though. She’s still so sad. She misses her baby. She loved him so much.”

Dave glared at the green Ford Escort in front of them. “She
still
loves him. That kind of love never goes away. You all need to cut her some slack and give her lots more time. She had a hard time when Margaret died, but after a while it was easier to bear.”

“It’s not only that.” She ran her fingers through her stiff, red peaks and Dave could hear the crackle of hair product. “The boys fill up most of her day and she’s seeing a good therapist, but something’s standing in the way of her rebonding with Jerry, and it’s not Paul and his death.”

Jill paused, scowling at Dave’s unturned face. Her gaze was hard and Dave found it awkward to be talking like this, about Lily, with a person he didn’t even know. But he wanted to know what “difficulties” she was talking about.

“Okay, I’ll bite, what is it?”

“It’s you,” she said bluntly.

Dave couldn’t have been more surprised if Jill had said Osama Bin Laden. He knew he’d sensed a bubbling tension emitting from the aggressive fortysomething Jill Spears, but he’d let himself believe she was being overprotective because of Lillian’s present drugged-up condition. Clearly, he was wrong.

“Me? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He darted quick glances at Jill’s face to see if she was joking.

“Come on, don’t play innocent with me. Just so you know, I’ve been a high school dean for twelve years and I know when someone’s lying to me.”

“Jill, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dave said, panicking. The traffic picked the most uncomfortable time to slow to a crawl. He had nowhere to look but at his accuser.

“True or false—when Lillian has a bad day, she calls you?”

“True,” he answered. If he didn’t lie then she couldn’t call him on it. If she wanted truth, he’d give her as much as possible.

“Good. I’m glad you’re not trying to BS me, Dave.” She took a moment to shift her body toward him, ready for more interrogation.

“True or false? When
you
have a bad day,
you
call Lillian.”

Dave sighed. “True. What’s the problem with that? We spent almost two years together, every minute of those years. You can’t expect us not to be close anymore.”

“Shhhh, this isn’t a discussion. I have another question.” Jill pulled her legs up, Indian-style, her flowing skirt draped over them casually. Leaning forward, elbow on her knee, she posed the next question. “True or false? You’re in love with Lillian.”

“Oh, come on.” Dave smacked the steering wheel.

“True or false?” she pressed, leaning back against the locked door, arms crossed firmly, making Dave feel sorry for generations of high school students in suburban St. Louis.

“It’s not that easy, Jill. Yes, of course I love her,” he stuttered out the words nervously, worried saying them out loud would mean more than it should. “But I’m sure you love her too.”

“Uh-uh. Not the same. She’s my best friend and we’ve been best friends for most of our adult lives.” Jill turned away for the first time since their conversation and started glancing over at Lillian, whose head rested limply against the car window. “Lillian has always been there for me. She was in the delivery room when my children were born, she was there to hold my hand when my Mom passed away and when my husband was diagnosed with cancer. She took care of my kids, brought dinners, and even brushed my hair when both my hands were in casts after a car accident.” Worry mellowed the fierceness in her light eyes as she answered. “Yes, I love her,
but
I’m not trying to take a place in her life already held by someone else. I’m not trying to insert myself into a family that needs to be finding strength from within.” Jill’s long fingernails poked at the spotty exposed skin above the sagging collar of her shirt. “It’s easy to see you’re in love with her, but she doesn’t
need
you. She needs her family right now.”

“Jill,” he said in a cool, measured voice, “loving someone and being
in
love with someone are two different things. I want her to be happy as much as you do, but I’m not willing to stop talking to her when I
know
our conversations help her.” Clearly Lily needed him. Look at the state she was in without him. “Would you ask me to do that? To abandon her? When her number pops up on my phone, are you telling me I should ignore it and let her suffer alone? Because if you
are
saying that, then you’re not as good of a friend as you apparently think you are.” Gassing it, he switched lanes without using the signal, making Jill hang on tighter to the armrest. Dave smiled a little inside.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, cracking her index fingers loudly with her thumbs. “Something has to change. I’m concerned.”

“Why doesn’t
Jerry
do something? He is her husband.” Dave regretted the edge in his voice as soon as he said it.

“Mmmm, he’s tried.” She nibbled nervously at her fingernails, no accusations this time. “She’s so shut down, it does no good. What would you do if it were your wife? If she came back like Lillian?” she asked as if she cared what he thought.

“I don’t know—stop pushing so hard maybe? Give her some time and some space? I think he could try to be a little understanding.” He listed the items, then gripped the wheel with two hands, staring at the scratched-up blue Astro in front of him. “I can tell you one thing I wouldn’t do, I wouldn’t send somebody to do my dirty work for me. If Jerry wants me to stop calling Lily, he can talk to me like a man.”