Impasse (L.A. Nights)

by Sylvie Fox

  Sated, the guys were talking about moving to the living room to watch the second football game of the day. Holly and Helena were comparing recipes, and Nick felt content. He was where he wanted to be, surrounded by the woman he loved, his family, and his friends.

  That feeling of contentment slowly started to disintegrate when Dominic started unzipping his mystery container. Before anyone had made a move from the table, Dominic was passing around crystal flutes, and pulling out bottles of chilled champagne and sparkling grape juice. It was like watching, in slow motion, a collision he knew was going to take place but was powerless to stop.

  Holly gazed at Nick wide-eyed with trepidation. He could only give the faintest of shrugs and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He knew once his dad had set his mind to something, it was best to let things run their course.

  Dominic halted the conversation with a clink of his teaspoon on his flute. “I have an important announcement.” With that declaration, all conversation died down. “Thank you all for being here today. It’s good to have both old friends and new friends around during the holidays.” There were a few nods of assent, and a couple of people clinked glasses.

  “I’m fortunate this year that I’m able to spend Thanksgiving with one of my children, and with Holly who I’ve come to think of as family.” A tear escaped Dominic’s eye as he continued. “You’ll have to excuse me, I get a little emotional,” he said, wiping the drop from his face with the handkerchief he always carried, a throwback to an earlier era. “I suspected I wouldn’t be able to last through a whole speech because I’m so proud I feel like I’m going to burst.” He paused again to gather himself.

  “I would like to propose a toast, to Holly and Nick, and my new grandson or granddaughter we’ll soon welcome into this world.”

  There was a pause as Dominic’s meaning became clear to everyone. Then a great cacophony of sound erupted as everyone clinked glasses with each other and issued good tidings to Nick and Holly. Asha winked at Holly and said in her breathy, accented English, “I knew you must have been cooking up something. We haven’t seen you much at all in the last few months.”

  Hayes finished the thought, “I think she was getting a bun in the oven.” Everyone laughed. Holly only nodded, dipping her head to sip the sparkling juice.

  “When are you due?” Helena asked.

  “The last week of May,” she answered quietly.

  “Are you coming to New York then, to have the baby?” someone else asked.

  “Right,” one of Nick’s studio mates, an Australian named Jack, chimed in. “We’ll be working on the new film next spring.”

  Nick stole a sidelong glance at Holly. “We haven’t decided how we’re going to do that part yet. The timing was a little unexpected.”

  Another of Nick’s studio friends, a serious looking young blond, piped in next. “So when are you two getting married?”

  With every question, Nick wondered where Holly’s breaking point was. They’d just found it. “Alison, we’re not getting married, not now, probably not ever,” she said even more softly, abruptly ending the discussion. “Now can someone help with these dishes?” After an uncomfortably long silence, there was no shortage of hands to help her clean up. With everyone chipping in, the table was cleared and the dishwasher loaded in no time. Dominic even volunteered to put out the garbage, though he cursed the narrow stairs all the way down.

  Holly was sitting quietly in the dining area sipping tea while everyone else congregated in the living room around the football game when Sophie decided to join her. “That was some show Dominic put on,” Sophie said, raising her eyebrows.

  “Yeah, it was,” Holly said resignedly.

  “Have things changed?” Sophie asked, her gray eyes eagerly searching Holly’s face for some sign.

  “No,” Holly said, trying to keep the tears from her eyes and the quaver from her voice. “I think Dominic’s just hopeful. I finally told Nick yesterday that I love him, and it didn’t make a difference.” She swiped at a tear escaping her eyes, determined not to cry. “He’s been pushing all along to ‘be a couple,’ and ‘have a relationship.’ But I don’t think he can expand his definition of ‘us’ to include our child,” she said, bracketing us in air quotes with her hand.

  “What are you going to do now? Are you going to New York when he works on that film?”

  “I can’t, and I’m not sure I want to. I can’t really afford to quit my job now or take any kind of extended leave. If I combine my inheritance with the money from the property sale, I can just afford a little house somewhere like Silver Lake. Maybe take some time off after the baby is born… play it by ear from there.”

  Sophie’s face looked as sad as Holly felt. “I’m so sorry, I thought it would work out, especially when I saw you guys today. You looked and acted so much like a couple.”

  Holly sniffled and wiped her nose, more determined than ever not to cry. She was done crying. It was time to act.

  With a watery smile, Holly playfully poked Sophie in the side. “Speaking of looking like a couple, what’s going on with you and Ryan?” Sophie turned as red as her hair used to be.

  “Nothing, really,” she said. “We’re exact opposites, but something about him gets to me.”

  They talked for a long time, Holly excited over the new life growing inside her. The burgeoning love for her baby was helping her deal with the waning disappointment over the way she and Nick were ending things. As the game wrapped up, their friends said their goodbyes. Ryan was lingering at the door looking like he would do anything to get Sophie alone. Sophie pulled Holly aside as Dominic and Nick straightened up the downstairs rooms.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “It’s fine. I’m going to leave in a little bit. Don’t worry about me. I think Nick and I have made our peace with where we are. If I were you, I’d be worried about that man over there, who looks like he wants to devour you for dessert.”

  Sophie gave her a swift hug then rushed from Nick’s place in her usual whirlwind fashion. Ryan trailed behind in her wake, a little dazed, looking like he was going along for the ride but certainly enjoying it.

  Ignoring the Andreis men’s protests, Holly put away the clean dishes, still warm from the dishwasher, and scoured the pots and pans.

  While she was drying, she looked from her lover to his father sitting at the table, both at a loss for words.

  “Well, happy Thanksgiving, you guys.”

  “Are you leaving?” Nick asked. His eyes pleaded with her for mercy.

  “Nick, I think we shouldn’t see each other right now.”

  Dominic stood abruptly, causing one of the dining room chairs to wobble slightly. “I can take a hint. Now seems like a good time to measure the back patio for those Saltillo tiles you wanted, Nicky.”

  Nick’s father went outside without a tape measure.

  “I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please don’t be mad at my Dad. He was just—”

  Holly interrupted. “Don’t even think about it. I could never really be angry with Dominic. He was just doing what came naturally. He’s a sweet man, and I know he’ll make a wonderful grandfather.”

  “Are you really going home tonight?”

  “I have to, Nick. Our relationship is too stressful. And stress is the last thing I need right now.”

  Nick looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. She shook her head, gathered her purse, and let herself out.

  Dominic appeared by Nick’s side in the time it took him to blink. He would never accuse his father of eavesdropping, but it seemed like he’d come back into the house awfully quick.

  “So what about those tiles?”

  “I don’t give a damn about any ceramic tiles, Nicky. Why did you let her leave?”

  “She wanted to go home,” Nick said, resigned.

  “Don’t get smart with me. You know what I’m asking you. Why aren’t you two together, getting married, or at least com
mitting to… I don’t know… something?”

  Nick winced at his father’s characterization. “I’m not sure about anything right now.”

  “Not sure. Just a few weeks ago, you were singing her praises. I couldn’t even get you on your cell phone. What the heck changed?”

  “She’s having a baby.”

  “You keep saying that. Am I misunderstanding the birds and the bees? Maybe we need to have this talk again. Maybe you didn’t hear so good when you were thirteen.”

  “I know, Dad, I know. She’s having our baby. Fatherhood’s a huge responsibility—a lifelong commitment. I just don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  “What do you mean you’re not ready for that? You were certainly ready to have her as a girlfriend. The way you were renovating the house at the speed of light, I thought you were going to ask her to move in. Do you think relationships are only about the lust in the beginning?”

  “Dad,” Nick said, embarrassed to have his father talking or even thinking about his sex life. “I just don’t think I’m ready to be a father now. Will I still be able to pursue my filmmaking or will I have to take some ‘Joe job’ and compromise my vision? And what if, maybe, I’m not done sowing my oats?” Nick paused a long time. “What if she isn’t the ‘one’?”

  “Nicky, if you hear nothing else I say, please hear this. You have something here worth saving, and the longer you take to make a decision, the less likely Holly will take you back.” He paused, looking hard at his son. “Don’t be immature or naïve about this. Do you know what commitment phobic men discover after ten, twenty years of searching?”

  Nick shook his head.

  “There is no there there. What you have is rare and special. Don’t throw it away for some unknown dream. She’s not asking you to give up anything. But if you leave her, you’ll lose everything.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sharp pains pierced the fuzzy halo of sleep that surrounded Holly. She sat up abruptly. The duvet pooled around her waist causing goose bumps to rise along her arms. For a moment the pain subsided and Holly, half asleep, lay her head down again, trying to warm up, thinking she had imagined it all. When the second pain came, however, she knew it was for real. Holly looked at the clock. It was three in the morning.

  Her heart beat a rapid tattoo as she tried to talk herself down from a full-on panic attack. She tried to convince herself she couldn’t be having a second miscarriage. It was probably some kind of false labor. Holly refused to allow anything bad to happen to her baby. Everything would be okay. It had to be. The third jagged pain and the appearance of bright red blood on her sheets told her it was all too real.

  She pulled herself up from the bed, no longer caring about the chill in the room, and retrieved the cordless phone receiver from the kitchen wall. Since agreeing to be her birth coach, Sophie was number one on the speed dial. She pressed the number that corresponded with Sophie’s cell phone and listened to the monotonous rings, hoping her friend answered the phone before the call went to voice mail. A groggy Sophie croaked a greeting into the phone.

  “I think it’s happening again. I’m losing the baby,” Holly said on the edge of hysteria.

  There was a clunk as Sophie dropped, then retrieved the phone.

  “Okay, don’t panic. Call nine-one-one and I’ll meet you at the hospital. Tell them your doctor is at Cedars and they should take you there.”

  Holly disconnected and gave her particulars to the nine-one-one operator who answered her next frantic call. The ten-minute wait for the city’s paramedics were the longest minutes of her life. Her normally quiet street blazed with light and sirens as a small fire truck and ambulance came screaming down the block.

  The ride to the hospital was a blur. Holly tried the best she could to answer the questions the medics put to her, but the overwhelming fear and dread made it difficult to concentrate on their inquiries. Fortunately, Sophie was already at the waiting room answering the numerous questions. She stayed close by as they wheeled Holly to a semi-private curtained area.

  A resident did a quick pelvic exam then brought in the obstetrician on call. They had an animated, whispered conference before the taller of the two spoke with her.

  “Holly Prentice?” When she nodded, he made the introductions before addressing her case. “We’ve done a preliminary exam.”

  Holly couldn’t wait for the niceties. “Am I going to lose my baby?”

  They shook their heads. “No, ma’am, you’re not going to miscarry. What I think we’ve got here is cervical insufficiency. In layman’s terms it’s an incompetent uterus.”

  “What in the heck does that mean—in real English?” Sophie asked in her newly self-appointed role as Holly’s advocate.

  The doctor looked away from them and down at the pager buzzing persistently on his belt. “I’ll let your regular doctor explain it to you. He should be here in the next twenty minutes or so. But with surgery and bed rest, you should deliver a healthy, full-term baby.” And then he left the semi-secluded area as quickly as he had entered.

  Holly turned a worried gaze toward Sophie, the word surgery reverberating through her head. Without uttering a sound, Sophie grabbed her hand and they sat that way, silently, until Dr. Cole came into the bay.

  A little calmer than when she came in, the light sedatives they gave her taking effect, Holly introduced Sophie to Dr. Cole as her birth coach and best friend. Thankfully, he was kind enough not to ask about Nick.

  “Holly, I’m not sure what the previous doctors explained, but let me assure you that you will deliver your baby if I have anything to say about it.”

  Holly visibly relaxed, and Sophie breathed a sigh of relief, briskly rubbing the color back into Holly’s ice-cold hands.

  “You appear to have a weak cervix. The weight of your growing baby could cause your cervix to open unexpectedly. This may have been the cause of your earlier miscarriage, or alternatively, the subsequent D&C after you miscarried could have caused this problem.” He shrugged a little uncertainly. “Either way, we may never know. The bottom line is that your rapidly growing fetus put pressure on your cervix, and that’s what caused tonight’s false labor pains and spotting.”

  “Can you fix it?” Holly asked softly, her very breath depending on the answer Dr. Cole gave. “The first doctor mentioned something about surgery?”

  “We will have to do surgery to protect your baby,” Dr. Cole said gravely. “I would perform a procedure called cervical cerclage—basically stitching the cervix closed so that the baby stays inside where he or she belongs.”

  “What’s the downside?” she asked, knowing that saving her baby would not come without a cost.

  “You will have to be on complete bed rest for the next few weeks and possibly the remainder of your pregnancy, and sexual activity is strictly forbidden.”

  Holly didn’t even blink. “I’ll do anything to save my baby.”

  The doctor paused and looked at Holly, then Sophie a little uneasily.

  “I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes here, but would you like to call the baby’s father, include him on this decision?”

  Sophie nodded, but Holly shook her head vigorously. “There is no need for that. We’re not together anymore. I’ll be making all the decisions,” Holly said, her tone brooking no argument. Sophie leaned down to Holly’s ear, her body blocking the doctor’s view, giving them a small modicum of privacy.

  “I think we should call Nick. This decision is going to affect him, too, you know.”

  “How?” Holly whispered back just as fiercely. “He wasn’t exactly dying to be a part of this process. I haven’t talked to him in two weeks, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon. Do you?”

  A semi-private hospital room was all her health insurance would spring for, but mercifully the other bed was empty. Holly could finally relax knowing the surgery was scheduled for the next day. Sophie had cranked up the head and footrest and was resting in the bed’s contorted V, pretending it was comfo
rtable in an effort to make Holly laugh. The two settled in, talking and laughing, and for a while it seemed like one big sleep-over party—albeit in a room lit like a morgue.

  When the wide faux wooden door swung open for what seemed like the thousandth time, she was sure it was yet another nurse coming to take her blood pressure or temperature or to check on her cervix. She was just about to comment to Sophie on the utter lack of privacy in hospitals when she glanced at the lone, tall figure that had come into the room. Her heartbeat escalated, causing the monitor to beep erratically and betray her feelings. She was embarrassed that he could still cause such a reaction. Holly felt like the bottom had dropped out of her stomach, out of her world.

  “Nick,” she sputtered. “What are you doing here… how did you… know?” Then it dawned on her: Sophie. Her best friend had flattened the bed and was just about to surreptitiously take her leave when Holly’s voice slowed her. “Did you call him?” She felt betrayed. She didn’t want Nick hanging around because of his sense of guilt or obligation. He had to know that she was more than capable of handling things on her own.

  “I’m here because I love you,” he said simply.

  Holly had no quip, no crafty response to Nick’s words. His simple declaration unarmed her. After weeks of building up an emotionally impenetrable wall, she was vulnerable to him all over again.

  Dr. Cole chose that moment to check on Holly during his last rounds. At Nick’s request, he again explained how Holly’s cervix was too weak to hold the baby in, and that a few well-placed stitches would prevent early labor or a second trimester miscarriage. “I just want to reiterate to you what I warned Holly about earlier. For the next few weeks, and possibly for the duration of the pregnancy, she’ll need to be on bed rest,” Dr. Cole admonished. “The two of you will need to follow my orders very strictly.” Nick didn’t blink or look put out by the fact that they would be prohibited from engaging in sexual intercourse.