by Zoey Derrick
“Vivienne, how we doing, sweetheart?” Dr. Alston asks from the foot of Vivienne’s bed.
Vivienne seems to be on the verge of hyperventilating. “I—” Breath. “Don’t—” Breath. “Know.” Breath.
“Amanda, let’s get her on oxygen. Vivienne, we’re going to put a mask on you for oxygen and I need you to take some big, deep breaths, okay?”
Vivienne nods as Amanda brings the mask to her face.
“Deep breath in for eight counts. Deep breath out for eight counts. Okay?”
Vivienne nods again. I watch the monitor as she breathes in and out. Her oxygen level starts to climb, and I hear the pressure cuff go off again. Slowly her heart rate returns to normal.
“Good job,” I say quietly so only she can hear me.
“Vivienne?” Dr. Alston says and we both look at her. “Good job. Do you feel better now?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounds muffled coming through the mask.
“Okay, good. We can swap the mask out for a nose piece, but I want to keep you on oxygen for tonight, okay?”
She pulls the mask away from her face. “When can I go home?”
“In the morning we’ll run a few tests and do an ultrasound. Once those are done and the results are in, I’ll make that decision, but don’t count on anything earlier than tomorrow afternoon. Once you leave here, though, you will be on bed rest until I see you again in two weeks.”
“I can’t do that,” she says vehemently.
“You can and you will. I will see to it that you’re able to manage things while you’re off of work. Alright?”
“I’ll lose my job,” she says.
“Don’t worry about that.” As I say this she scowls and looks at me. The angry kitten is back, and I can’t help but laugh. Always so feisty. A feeling of warm satisfaction ripples across my body. I sober quickly and add, “We’ll take care of it, okay?”
Her scowl grows deeper, and this time Dr. Alston lets out a chuckle.
“Remember what I told you last time?”
She nods, and I’m curious what she told Vivienne the last time.
“Alright, Vivienne, everything looks good. I’m going to let you get some sleep tonight. I’ll take off the fetal monitors so you can move around if you’d like. Push the button if you need anything.” Vivienne nods and Dr. Alston goes about removing the monitors and tucking them away with the machine.
“Is the IV still necessary?” Viv asks.
“After you finish the fluids that are in the bag now, Carol, your night nurse, can remove it. Okay?”
Vivienne’s eyes shoot up to the two bags attached to the IV pole and scowls again. They only just changed them out the last time they were in here, and the bags are still about half full.
“Alright,” she concedes.
“Good night,” Dr. Alston says as she and Amanda leave.
“Good night,” I say back. Turning back to Vivienne, I ask, “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
She nods. I stand up, go to the cabinet near the TV and pull a blanket from the cupboard. Then I walk back to the bed, unfolding it as I go. “Lean forward, please.”
She gives me a funny look but complies. I wrap the blanket around her shoulders and let it fall down to cover her exposed backside.
“Do you want to change while you’re in there?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, let’s get you in there first. Then I’ll bring your clothes. Put your arm around my neck.”
She doesn’t protest as I help her from the bed. But instead of letting her feet touch the ground, I pick her up. “Grab your IV pole.”
She weighs next to nothing and I don’t even have to adjust my balance as she shifts in my arms to grab the pole.
“Got it,” she says.
“Okay.” I turn toward the bathroom, savoring the feeling of having her in my arms.
She nuzzles her head onto my chest, settling in. “Thank you.”
Without thinking, I kiss the top of her forehead. “You’re welcome.”
Thirty-Nine
After I get Vivienne settled back into bed, she falls asleep quickly - no doubt the day wore on her – and I take the opportunity to check my voicemail. It’s full, and I quickly forward anything work-related, which eliminates about ninety percent of what I had in there. While clicking through the voicemails, I come across one from Stevens, left about an hour ago.
“Blake, it’s Detective Stevens. Listen, I got a call from the hospital that said she was awake. How’s she doing? Look I, um...I need to ask her a few questions and I will come by tomorrow sometime. We’ve gathered a pretty good mountain of evidence against Riley, including fingerprints from her apartment. Initial results on the blood found at the scene point to two different kinds. All we know so far is that they’re different and one belongs to Vivienne. Once we know more, it may be enough to solidify the case against that idiot. We have a couple of leads on his whereabouts, too. I will let you know as soon as he’s in custody. Please call me back at this number when you get a chance. I really need to speak with Vivienne.”
Instead of calling Stevens back right away, I email Chrys, my attorney, requesting that he meet with me on Monday at my condo to discuss representing Vivienne should this case go to trial. Knowing Chrys, this will not be outside of his area of expertise, and I’m confident that he’ll be able to represent Vivienne well. Once that is done, I call Stevens back.
As I’m hitting send, a sharp buzz rings across my back, the same one I get anytime there is something to do with Stevens. Odd.
After three rings and a series of clicks, he answers. “Stevens.”
“You called.”
“Ah, Blake. How is she?” he asks.
“Alive. Torn up emotionally, but she’s here and well as can be, all things considered.” My tone is clipped. Her hyperventilating earlier has me on edge when it comes to Stevens. She’s right: He was supposed to protect her and he failed to do so. Riley running free in the streets isn’t helping my mood.
“I don’t doubt that at all, but I’m glad she’s awake. I planned to stop by tomorrow to talk to her.”
“Don’t bother. She has a mountain of tests in the morning and she will, with any luck, be discharged in the afternoon. You can wait until Monday afternoon, my apartment.”
“You know I can’t wait until Monday.”
“You can and you will. She needs a chance to recover and get settled. On top of that, she needs a chance to speak with her lawyer before you get your hands on her.”
“What does she need a lawyer for? She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“No, she hasn’t, but I’ll be damned if I let that fucker walk out of a jail cell on bail again. Vivienne will have her chance for justice this time.” I can hear the resolution in my voice and Stevens picks up on it, too.
“Speaking of justice, I received your recording. How in the hell did you get it?”
“Elton came to the hospital looking for me.”
“You know that I can’t use this in court, right?”
I roll my eyes. “That depends, Detective, on how you want to use the information. It doesn’t exactly implicate Riley in the crimes, but it certainly indicates that Elton is fully aware of what his son was going to do and the reason for which he bailed him out of jail, don’t ya think, Detective? Regardless, use it how you want. Use it to build a separate case against Riley or Elton. There’s no doubt in my mind that if his lips are that loose with me, he will most certainly talk to someone else.”
I can hear a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “I see your point. But Blake, it’s in her best interest to give me a statement as soon as possible. The longer we wait, the more time there is for her to forget what happened or – as Riley’s defense will say – for someone to tamper with her memory.”
“Wait until Monday, Stevens. She’s not well when it comes to what’s happened to her. She started freaking out when I told her that he was still on the run. We don’t need another incident l
ike that one. Give it a rest until Monday, alright?”
Another heavy sigh. “Alright, Blake. Monday afternoon at your place.” He pauses, and I can almost hear him consider arguing with me more, but in the end all he says is, “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Yup.”
I hit end before he can protest further.
Forty
“I would have talked to him tomorrow.” Vivienne’s small voice comes from behind me.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s alright. Nothing new?” I shake my head. “I’m alright. I know I’m safe here, and I know these things take time. The only reason he was arrested so fast the last time was because he left the apartment when he was done and a neighbor heard me screaming and called nine-one-one and I was whisked away to the hospital. When he returned to the apartment he found it without me in it and full of cops. At least that’s what they told me.”
“Fine. But that’s no excuse for why they can’t find him now.”
“Sure it is. Riley has a lot of connections in this city. A lot of people will hide him, stand up for him, or defend him if necessary. Not to mention a few cop friends, too, who are no doubt keeping him up-to-date. Whatever you do, don’t underestimate him.”
“Do you know who those cops might be?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t really know much about his circle of people. He rarely ever brought business home, it was always done somewhere else. Which really sucked because when they arrested him, they wouldn’t have found any drugs around, nothing that could’ve kept him in jail longer.” She takes a deep breath. “If they’d asked me about this before, I would have told them then, too, but I didn’t have solid evidence that pointed to anything that would’ve helped my case against him, and I doubt even now I have any good information for them.”
Wow, I think that is the longest speech I’ve ever heard her make, even when she was mad and yelling at me. “Well, I’ve put Stevens off until Monday. For right now at least.”
“I heard. What’s all this about your apartment and a lawyer?”
How can I put this so that she doesn’t freak out again? “I, um, I emailed my lawyer asking him to meet with me Monday at my apartment to discuss your situation. I’d like you to be there.”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“I’d like to have one lined up for you in case this goes south and you either have to testify or press your own personal charges against Riley. Or both.”
She’s very stoic, no real reaction to what I’ve said. It’s almost as if she’s shut down. “I’ll think about it.”
I’m not sure I can take that as an answer, but I don’t push her right now. I don’t need her getting mad at me; I need her to know that I’m on her side so she’ll agree to come stay in the condo I’ve had prepared for her.
She yawns.
“You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. I’ll be here in the morning and we can talk some more if you want.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being here, for...” She pauses. “For rescuing me.”
My heart swells nearly to the point of explosion at the tenderness in her voice. “I only wish I’d gotten to you sooner.”
“Don’t. I’m alive, my baby is alive, and you’re here to protect me. That more than makes up for any mistakes you may feel you’ve made.” Her voice is sincere and heartwarming.
I walk over toward her bed and lean down to kiss her forehead. Again she doesn’t flinch, and I’m thankful for that.
“Thank you for your forgiveness.” I lower the bed a little more. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll stay off of the phone.”
She laughs a little and closes her eyes.
Forty-One
I don’t linger at going to bed myself, curious as to what the night will bring me. The dream I had earlier seemed to come to an end.
I settle into bed and, by the light of the bathroom I left on in case she needs it, I watch her sleep until I fall asleep.
This time it’s different. I’m not in a white room. Or even a room that could be in Elysium for that matter. No, I’m...where am I? I know this room but I can’t place it.
It’s a bedroom with plush, light tan carpet and a king-size canopy bed made from a dark cherry wood with modern spindles made of what look like stacked blocks. The sheer white curtains flow down on all sides.
Someone is sleeping in the bed.
I walk toward it to see who it is. Sprawled out across the pillows is a mane of curly, bright red hair. It’s the beautiful, pale, sleeping form of Vivienne.
I hungrily look her up and down and notice, under the blankets, the rounded baby bump propped up by something. Judging from the size of the bump, this is in the future, but not too far in the future. I come around to the far side of the bed to see her bare back. And it is covered in the same silvery and black wings as mine. She really is an angel.
I hear a noise behind me and I turn toward it. It’s me.
What?
I watch myself move around the bathroom with a towel around my waist. The wings on my back are vibrant silver and black. On my right shoulder and extending down my right arm is the tattoo from the first dream. I’m shaving and brushing my teeth, the two things I usually do just before crawling into bed. It won’t be long now; I need to get out of here before he sees me. Before I see me.
I look back to Vivienne, sound asleep on the bed. I could watch her sleep for hours: so peaceful, so angelic.
The light in the bathroom goes out. Crap. I look around quickly for someplace to hide, but it’s too late; I’m already walking toward myself, looking straight at me. Can he see me here?
The other me walks straight through me and around the bed.
Nope. I back away from the bed as I watch myself climb in behind her, moving her hair out of the way so as not to lie on it. It looks a lot longer than I’m used to seeing it.
The other me wraps his arm around her and snuggles into her neck.
She moves, rolling backwards into him and turning so he can kiss her.
“Hello, beautiful. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She laughs at him. “It’s alright. I was missing you anyway.” She smiles and kisses him. I watch as she reaches around his back with her left arm. His eyes roll. She’s touching his wings.
Her motions have forced the covers down and her chest is now exposed. I feel a surge of excitement.
Sensing movement elsewhere in the room, I look up. Standing on the opposite side of the bed is Vivienne, just as she was when she left me in the last dream: beautiful, wings extended, and her hand resting gently against the swell of her stomach.
I look back at the couple on the bed. I now feel as though I’m invading their privacy, but I’m captivated by them.
I watch as I push the covers down further, exposing more of Vivienne. She’s glowing - a white, blue, and silver aura around her, similar to the one I saw that first night.
Vivienne rolls over and straddles me - or him - and I watch intently as my hands roam slowly and softly along her breasts and her extended belly. I can feel my own arousal watching the two of them.
What happens next surprises me. Slowly the wings on Vivienne’s back come alive and extend outward. It is an amazing sight to witness. Her wings are beautiful - white, with the slightest hint of silver accenting many of the feathers, and they shimmer in the dim light of the room.
I look past the Vivienne on the bed to the Vivienne standing opposite me. Her clothes have changed. She is wearing the gray, too-big t-shirt and black sweatpants I helped her put on before going to bed. I cock my head at her, puzzled.
Forty-Two
Suddenly I feel a tug, like someone is pulling on my shirt. I open my eyes and look up into Vivienne’s shadowed face. “Vivienne? What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m sorry, I can’t sleep, I—”
“Come here,” I say, and I pull back the covers. She slides in carefully, lying on he
r left side with her head in the crook of my shoulder. The harsh velcro of the sling rubs against my chest through my shirt. “Are you in?”
“Yes.”
I wrap the blankets around us. “Good?”
“Uh huh.”
As I start to pull my hand back from covering her up I feel her wrist brace against my arm, stopping me from pulling it back to my side. It takes me only a moment to realize that my hand is resting, open-palmed, across her bump. I have no words for the flood of emotions that wash through me.
As I lie here with her cascade of hair spread across my body, I contemplate how we got to this point. I can’t imagine what’s changed since I last saw her that has made her so trusting to the point of coming to me for comfort.
I snuggle into her a bit more. The warmth of her body pressed against mine is the beginning of an addiction I know I will never break.
Snuggled next to Vivienne, I think back to the dream I just had and the centuries-old story my mother used to tell me about A chuid den tsaol, or soulmates: the belief that there is only one person for everyone and that finding that one perfect person is rare. When you find yours, you know instantly because there is a bright aura surrounding that person; you will see it when you first lay eyes on them.
I think back to the night I met Vivienne, the night my back led me to her. Up until then, I’d had some indication that something was going on with my back, but I chalked it up to the old stories of the markings on my back and didn’t make much of it.
I think I see now that it was a sign of what was to come: an omen, like dreams can be. Not like the dreams I’ve had these last few nights – nothing so overt – but something more along the lines of subliminal messages telling me who I am or what I would become.
The day I met Vivienne, my markings had been bugging me ever since I’d arrived at the site of the groundbreaking. As the afternoon progressed, it got worse, until it was so annoying I had to leave.
Just before I got in the car to go home, it was like my back took on its own personality, driving me toward my destination. Then, I didn’t know why. But I’m sure now. It was driving me toward my A chuid den tsaol.
