“Whatcha up to?” I asked.
He flinched, startled by my voice, and then settled. “Morning, sleepyhead.” His supple lips found mine. “Mmm. If I’d known you were going to feel so nice, I’d have woken you up for a little playtime before I came down to work. But you looked so cute with that line of drool between your mouth and the pillow.”
“Very nice, making fun of a pregnant lady.”
Ryan, due in just three weeks, banged around inside as she always did when Jake was near. He pressed his cheek against her. “Morning, lamb,” he whispered.
“All right, you two. Enough roughhousing.”
As Jake sipped his coffee, I snatched a peek over his shoulder at his colorful drawing. Under a moody sky stood the Golden Gate Bridge. The bridge’s towers appeared just as they did in the view from our kitchen window—powerful and dramatic, persimmon against a dove-gray sky. My heart clutched as I took in the surreal additions Jake had made to the landmark. Interwoven strands formed a web that draped from the bridge’s span. The net was adorned with thousands of what appeared to be shimmering, irregular glass shards in blues, greens, and silvers. Like a jeweled jigsaw puzzle, the waterfall cascaded into the bay below. The flow was punctuated by blooms of red-orange flame, with fire and water blending together.
“What do you have there?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
“Just some images that keep coming to me. Every night in my dreams I—” Jake stopped, suddenly reading my face. “Relax will you? This is just how I work.”
I wanted to ask more—to pick and make sure he was not launching back into the obsessions of fire and water from two months before. Questions were a logjam in my mind.
Jake rested his head against my heart. “You have every right to be nervous. You did have a husband that went pyro and got shipped to the nuthouse.” He looked up, traced the flesh of my lower lip with his thumb, and then kissed me. His voice was tender. “You should dry your hair. It’s chilly out. You don’t want to catch a cold.”
“Old wives’ tale,” I whispered. “Temperature has nothing to do with viral transmission.”
Jake had remained true to his word. He ate well, put on weight, slept regularly, and had regular sessions with Dr. Gupta to monitor medication. He resumed his role as my companion and passionate lover, making me feel sexy and adored despite my expanding girth—or even because of it.
“Tully’s due. Ready for car shopping?”
Jake had convinced me that my old Bug wasn’t safe for the baby. He had already sold his Valiant as a show of solidarity. I found myself hesitating to get rid of the old car. Senseless and sentimental. It had outlived its practicality. But I’d left so much of my life behind by adding Jake and a baby to the mix. My body was morphing into something I hardly recognized. And now, being off of work, the Bug and my little collection of eggs felt like the last bits of my old self.
I pointed to the drawing that lay on Jake’s drafting table. “Something I should worry about?”
“We’re in a great place again, aren’t we, Kat? You can’t freak out every time I draw something. Tully will be here any minute.”
I nodded, pushing doubt aside to look into the soft greens and golds of his eyes, which were magnified by the lenses of his glasses. “No one in our family has ever bought a new car. They depreciate by 30 percent as soon as you drive them off the lot, you know. I’m not getting something with a lot of doodads on it.”
“You are definitely Angus Murphy’s daughter.” Jake donned his comically accurate imitation of my dad’s brogue. “The Murphys certainly give every wee penny a mighty tussle before it leaves their purses. They surely do.” He rubbed both palms against my belly. “My sensible wife. At least get power windows. Tully’s been talking for a week about how he’s never driven a car with power windows.”
“Whose car is this, mine or Tully’s?”
The doorbell rang. Jake grinned. “Your answer’s at the door.”
I opened the door to see Tully wearing a crumpled tweed jacket with an extra wide clip-on tie, carrying a battered briefcase jammed full of glossy brochures. His wiry hair had been slicked down with some manner of gelatinous goo and his chin, shorn clean of its customary stubble, was speckled with crimson nicks. “Ready to go, Katie?”
The salesmen couldn’t have known what was about to hit them.
* * *
“SURPRISE!”
The shout that greeted me when I opened my front door nearly knocked me over. I looked around the foyer, taking in the smiling faces of a dozen wonderful women in my life.
After my heart rate slowed to a gallop, I noticed Tully next to me, his lean face stretched into a Stan Laurel grin. He’d insisted on going to nearly every car lot in San Mateo and South San Francisco, eventually endorsing a new Volvo wagon, a deeply discounted end-of-the-year model—with power windows.
“You sneak,” I said, giving him a punch to the shoulder. His skinny chest expanded under his clip-on tie.
Jake gave me a quick kiss. “Gotcha,” he said. “Tully and I are outta here. Off to watch the Niners game at the pub.”
“Don’t worry, Katie. No drinking. Scouts’ honor,” Tully said, crossing his heart with his forefinger.
Alice, right up front, stood beaming, surrounded by a few of my fellow former interns and nurses. From the back of the crowd, Mary K delivered an off-center smile. I resisted my urge to let my eyes travel down to the dangling leg of her jeans. She had not yet healed fully enough to wear a prosthesis. Beside Mary K, tall and golden with a wide smile, Andra Littleton stood holding a huge bouquet of yellow roses.
“Look who I invited to the party,” Mary K said. For a split second, she seemed almost nervous.
The afternoon was a flurry of gifts and food, laughter and swapping of stories of motherhood. Amidst the festivities, Andra and Mary K held hands while Alice kept refilling her own wine glass.
Soon the guests were gone, but for Andra, Mary K, and Alice.
Alice raised her glass and, in a voice louder than seemed necessary, she offered a toast. “To our little Katie,” she slurred. “All grown up and having a daughter. And I’m going to be Nana Alice!” Alice suddenly held her finger to her lips. “Shh,” she said. “That was a little loud.”
“Here honey, why don’t you sit down for a while?” I said.
Alice looked deep into my eyes. “My little Katie,” she repeated. “And I’m—” Alice sniffed and began to bawl. “I just wanted you to be a happy little girl. That’s all I ever wanted. I’m so sorry, Katie.”
I’d never seen Alice drunk. I kissed her and helped her to sit on the sofa. I stepped toward Mary K.
“Sheesh,” Mary K whispered. “Alice is feeling no pain.”
“It’s not like her,” I whispered, watching Alice as she folded baby clothes into a tidy stack.
“We’ll take her on home,” Andra offered. “After we help with the last of the clean-up.”
“It’s all done,” I smiled. “That swarm of women did everything but shampoo the carpets and reshingle the roof.”
They offered to stay until Jake got home, but I was exhausted and ready for bed. Alice had drooped onto the sofa.
“Come on, sweetie,” Andra said in sweet Texas tones. She helped Alice to her feet.
Alice cupped my chin in her hand, speaking groggily. “I just can’t believe it, Katie. I can’t believe my little Katie will soon be a mother.” With that, she broke into a blubbering mess, her words almost as wet as her face. “I just love you so much, Katie. I just never thought—”
Mary K shrugged. “Sentimental drunks.”
As I held the front door, I looked into Andra’s shining face. She’d always been beautiful, but there was something more. Mary K looked happier than I’d seen her in months—years, maybe. “You two look really happy,” I said. “I’m glad.”
Andra glanced toward Mary K. “I’ve lived in a lot of places. I think I’ve finally found home.”
Mary K pulled a cigarette fro
m behind her ear as they ushered Alice toward Andra’s car. “There’s no place like home, right?”
As they pulled away I checked my watch. Eight-thirty. Jake would tease me for pooping out so early, but I headed straight to bed, where I fell into a soft sleep.
* * *
I jerked awake with pain, deep and sharp, gripping me low in my belly. I waited until the vise released its grip. The room was dark. Jake’s side of the bed was empty and the covers lay smooth. The numbers on my bedside clock glowed one-thirty.
I inched my way across the bedroom and out into the hall. The glass of the atrium reflected only moonlight from the window. “Jake,” I called. Only my own voice echoed a reply. I called his name twice more before another wave of pain grabbed me.
I dialed Murphy’s Pub. “Katie, hi!” The music of Mike’s voice was light and playful.
“Hi, Mike. Can I talk to Jake?”
“Sorry Katie, he left early this afternoon. Just after the game started. Smart guy, left before the Niners went straight into the shitter. Oops, sorry. Guess I owe the cussin’ jar, huh?” Mike’s warm belly laugh came over the phone.
Another pain gripped me and I gasped.
“Everything okay, Katie?”
“Just fine.” I steadied my voice. I really didn’t want to discuss my labor pains or my AWOL husband with the weekend bartender.
“Do you want me to wake your dad? He went upstairs a few hours ago, but maybe Jake told him where he was off to.”
“No, I’ll call tomorrow.”
As I set the phone back in its cradle, another contraction grabbed me. Where is Jake? Pain grabbed my lower back and left me breathless until it subsided. I brushed my teeth and dressed.
I waited for the next wave of pain to come and go, then stepped into the garage. When I flipped on the light, my new Volvo gleamed, making the empty gap beside it seem that much more vacant. Jake had taken the Bug. Now panic took a bigger hold, making my heart beat wildly and scattering my thoughts into a torrent.
Focus. I had to focus.
I called my doctor’s exchange. I gave the details of how far I’d progressed. Contractions were about twenty minutes apart. Suddenly, it felt frightening to be alone in the house.
After another hour had passed, my labor was progressing, and my fury was rising along with it. When my doctor called back, she urged me not to wait any longer. She’d be waiting for me at the hospital. I called for a cab. Throwing a coat around my shoulders, I paced and peered through the window, the increasing grip of contractions causing me to lean against the wall for support.
I waited another fifteen minutes before I grabbed the keys to my new car.
* * *
It felt odd to be on the other side of the hospital experience: the tedious questions at intake, the confirmation of my birth date, insurance information, and recitation of everything I’d eaten. After registration, I was finally in the family birthing room. The mechanics of a regular hospital room had been softened by pastel wallpaper and comfortable furniture for family members.
“Who can I call for you, Dr. Murphy? You’re eight centimeters dilated. Your delivering physician will be here any minute.” Maggie Simon was a seasoned delivery nurse I’d met during my labor and delivery rotation. I was pleased to be in such experienced hands.
“Please, call me Kate,” I said to Maggie. “You’ve just felt my cervix. I think we can abandon the formality of—” A contraction stopped me from finishing my sentence.
I’d given up dialing home after a dozen tries and couldn’t bring myself to call my dad or Mary K. What would I say? I’m in labor and Jake’s missing.
I panted through the next wave until the grab in my abdomen released. “I can’t imagine what’s keeping Jake.”
Maggie removed her rubber gloves and tossed them in the trash. She covered my exposed body with the crisp sheet and patted my knee in reassurance. “Well I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be your honorary girlfriend. How’s that?”
I nodded, afraid that if I spoke a sob would escape.
* * *
I held Ryan in my arms, amazed at the miracle of her. The light of mid-morning shone bright in the room, letting me discover each detail. Thick, dark hair covered her head, and impossibly long fingers reached outside of her blanket. Her eyelids fluttered, revealing smoky gray eyes, then closed again as she stretched in a yawn.
My delivering physician had come and gone, a phantom in a mask. She had been called to another delivery and it was once again just Maggie in the family birthing room with Ryan and me.
“I never get tired of seeing these little ones arrive.” The nurse tilted her head and looked at her watch. “November tenth. That makes her a Scorpio. And let’s see, Monday’s child. But she doesn’t look full of woe to me. Definitely full of grace or fair of face.”
Despite her being only a few hours old, I recognized on Ryan the shape of Jake’s brow. Not Monday’s child. Not a life full of woe, I silently vowed. I looked into Maggie’s tired eyes. “Thanks for staying past your shift.”
Maggie gave a nod and stepped toward the door. “No sassing your mom now, Ryan. She’s had a pretty tough night. Sleep, Kate. It may be your last chance. We put the batteries in them when we discharge.”
When the door closed behind her, I allowed my false smile to fade.
* * *
I sensed Jake’s presence before I opened my eyes. His eyes were bloodshot. On his brow, above his glasses, an angry purple bruise was forming, and his chin was scraped and bloody. His hair was matted with dried blood over one ear, and his hand was wrapped with white gauze stained crimson.
He leaned toward me but I turned my face away from him. I forced down the hot urge to reach up and slap him. The first glimpse of him brought relief, then fury hit. I wanted to scream, Where the hell have you been?
Jake pulled back, his eyes darting between my face and my deflated belly. “Oh God, Kat. You’re so strong. You must’ve been so scared. I flew over here as soon as I got home and got your messages. I saw Ryan. They’re getting her ready to bring in here. She’s perfect.”
My words came out like whole notes, one to a measure. “Where. Have. You. Been?”
“An accident. I had an accident in Sausalito. The Bug rolled over into a ravine. I don’t know how long I was out. I—”
As Jake explained, I saw the pictures in my mind. My old Bug, flipped over, mangled and smashed. Jake, hanging upside down from the makeshift seatbelt, unconscious, his face bleeding. He’d had an accident. He’d been unconscious. How could I be angry at him? Then it dawned on me. Sausalito—not exactly on the way from Murphy’s to our house. Mike said he’d left the bar just after the game started. Where had he been all afternoon and all night?
“I had to show them myself. It’s for our future. Ryan’s future. This will be the most amazing installation yet.”
“Show who what?”
“I met this guy at Murphy’s who works for the Golden Gate Bridge commission. He knows Mayor Agnos and Governor Deukmejian. They were meeting up in Sausalito today, having dinner. I knew if they heard my idea they could pull strings and—”
“Strings, what strings? Strings for what?”
“Once they saw how amazing it could be, I was sure they’d grant the permits.”
I sat up with a jerk. “This is about the waterfall? We’re here again, Jake. The Golden Gate? Your drawing? You said that was nothing to worry about!”
“But Kat, they listened. They loved the idea. I sketched it for them right on the tablecloth. George Deukmejian knew my work. He thinks if we can work out the logistics with traffic and permits and safety that it would be spectacular. Burt’s great at that stuff. This is for us. For Ryan.”
“If it was so perfect, why did you sneak out of the bar where I thought you were without calling?”
“I didn’t know I was going until I met the guy at Murphy’s. I should have called, but I didn’t want to get you excited if it didn’t pan out. You’ve been looking at me li
ke I’m a monster or a crazy man every time I draw anything. I planned on being back before you woke and you never would have missed me, but on the way back I—”
“But what? What!” A hysterical ping had entered my voice. Suddenly the smell of Jake’s sweat and the trickle of dried blood on his brow infuriated me.
“I know I messed up. Isn’t missing my daughter being born punishment enough? I’ll never get that back.” His eyes became the green of a stormy sea against the red lightning of his bloodshot whites. I pressed my palm against Jake’s chest and pushed him. “Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you.” He tried to lean toward me, but I kept my hand splayed like a starfish on his sternum. “I can’t live like this. Never knowing when you’re going to let your impulses dictate your behavior.” I pushed him further away. “I just can’t.”
“It was an accident. I had a car accident. I’d never leave you alone on purpose.”
My voice was alien and cold. “Get out, Jake! Just leave me alone. Do us both—Do all three of us a favor and just walk away. I can’t count on you.”
He covered his face with both hands. My face and lips had turned to stone, rigid and unmoving. I didn’t care about his accident. Didn’t care that he probably needed stitches in the scalp wound that was still bleeding.
He pulled my fingers to his lips, kissing them over and over again. “I know you’re upset. You’ve got every right. But this should be the happiest day of our lives. I haven’t even met our daughter and already I know I’d die for her.”
“It’s not that easy. I was all alone. We were all alone. How can I ever trust you again? I can’t live this way. Leave. Just leave us alone.”
Jake’s pleading was interrupted by the slight opening of the door. From behind it peeked my father’s bushy brows. “There they are,” he sang. “There’s the beautiful mother and the proud papa.” He pushed the door open and Alice entered behind him carrying a bouquet of flowers with an “It’s a Girl” balloon bobbing overhead. Maggie had done one last service for me by calling my dad at the pub, but their cheerful arrival was a mismatch for what was transpiring between Jake and me.
Fire & Water Page 18
