From A Distance

by L. M. Carr

  “Did…did he ever… hit you?”

  My heart cracks and my eyes fill with pent up anger and pain.

  “Karrie?”

  My eyes meet hers. Wordlessly I confirm her worst nightmare.

  Devastation drags her mouth down into a hard frown. Her head shakes in disbelief and her chin quivers violently as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

  “Don’t tell your father.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “I won’t. I never planned on telling you either.”

  “That bastard!”

  We pull into the parking lot of the day spa; the two of us agitated and upset.

  “This is the last thing I will say about Alex Parker,” my mother hisses vehemently, slamming her index finger into the ignition button and turning off the car’s engine. “The only good thing that came from knowing him was meeting Tyler.” Her voice cracks before she clears her throat. “That man is crazy about you. I know he would never hurt you, Karrie.”

  I nod in agreement, adding “I know. He’s a really good man.”

  For the next ninety minutes, I forget about my former life, suppressing any lingering thoughts as I lose myself in an incredible pampering from head to toe. I return home later that afternoon calm, cool and collected. Every muscle has been worked, the tension in my back now gone, my mind restored fully on my upcoming nuptials in less than a month.

  My mother has enjoyed herself immensely planning the big day after not having had much of a say the first time around. The wedding planner I was essentially told to hire had ideas of her own. With Alex footing the bill for the huge and spectacular occasion, she aimed to please him not me.

  “What are you thinking about?” Tyler asks, coming behind me and kissing my neck.

  I stare at the newest round of creative logos designed by my mom, my hand resting on the mouse.

  Craning my neck to the side, I close my eyes and enjoy the deluge of affection.

  “Our wedding,” I mumble, relishing the feel of his lips on me. “Thank you for letting our moms have such a big part in it.”

  “It’s not like we’ve done this before,” he whispers in my ear and then freezes, realizing his error.

  “We’ve not done this together. None of this.” My hand drops and caresses my big round belly. His chin rests on my shoulder as his hands cover mine.

  I turn to face him and run my palm over his two-day old scruff.

  “I can’t wait to meet him.” His excitement is shaded with a hint of apprehension.

  “Me, too.” I smile.

  “I remember when Tre was a baby. I wanted nothing more than to protect him since my brother wasn’t there to do it. It’s insane how much I love this little man and I haven’t even seen him yet.”

  “Are you going to cut the cord?”

  “Absolutely! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

  “Good!” I seal my word with a kiss.

  ***

  AGAIN, I AWAKEN in the wee hours of the morning, but this time it’s a sharp stabbing sensation in my lower abdomen that forces me up. I howl in pain and inadvertently wake Tyler.

  With wide, panicked eyes, Tyler inquires about my state, kneeling quickly before me.

  “Shit!” I hiss, blowing out a slow breath. My face contorts as my eyes scrunch into tight slits.

  “Karrie! What can I do?”

  “Get me to the bathroom. I think I peed on myself.”

  Tyler hops off the bed and tosses the comforter back. Shrieking in horror, he tells me there’s blood everywhere.

  Dread immobilizes me. Doom threatens me.

  “Call my mother.”

  Seconds later my mother advises me to go directly to the emergency room and promises to meet us there.

  “Ty, I’m scared,” I cry as I scramble to get unsoiled clothes on.

  “Don’t be scared, baby. We’re okay. He’s okay.”

  I want to believe him, but distress steals his confidence and assurance.

  All the way to the hospital, I cry quietly and pray for my baby boy.

  Thankful for my mother’s forethought to call her friends in the department, I’m rushed into a waiting room as Dr. Stephens comes in followed by Lisa, one of the other nurses I normally work with.

  “Hi, Karrie. What’s the matter? You couldn’t stay away from us?” He smiles, trying to ease the tension radiating from me.

  I smile weakly at Dr. Stephens and confess, “I’m really scared.”

  “I know you are, but we’re going to do everything we can for you and this little one of yours.”

  While my mother steps out of the room, Tyler remains by my side during my exam.

  “Placenta previa.”

  “Placenta what?” Tyler ask with great concern.

  Dr. Stephens provides a detailed explanation of the complication which affects women in their last trimester.

  I nod. “Okay. So now that we know what it is, what can we do about it?”

  “You’ll need to be on bedrest for a few days. No intercourse. No traveling.”

  I glance at Tyler.

  “What about the baby? Is he going to be okay?”

  “We’re going to start you on steroids to make sure his lungs mature normally.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Rest. I can’t stress that enough. Think of it as an early vacation before the sleepless nights.”

  Dr. Stephens accepts Tyler’s extended hand of thanks and shakes it firmly.

  “Good and strong. I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, young man.”

  Captivated, I watch as the two men share a silent private moment.

  Before I arrive back at home, my mother has cleaned the blood stain and changed the sheets. I finally settle in and fall asleep in Tyler’s arm.

  I dream of the open grassy field once again.

  ***

  “ABSOLUTELY NOT! YOU are not going to miss the finals! Are you out of your mind?”

  The argument is now going on ten minutes with my insistence that he continues to race while I stay home and rest. Although I hate to miss it, I need to follow the doctor’s orders and keep our little boy safe.

  “I don’t care about the goddamn race! I can’t leave you! And besides, it won’t mean anything if I win and you’re not there.”

  “Losing your confidence, I see.”

  “What?” he snaps.

  “You said if you win not when you win.”

  “I’m not going.”

  His voice fades as he rounds the corner and leaves the room.

  I huff with exasperation, contemplating a plan to get him to go.

  Carrying his laptop, he walks back into the room and props himself up in bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have a couple of bids to finish,” he answers without looking at me which proves he’s more upset than he’s letting on.

  “Do you love me?”

  His fingers freeze on the keyboard as his eyes meet mine. “You know I do.”

  “And you’d do anything for me?”

  “You know that, too.”

  “Then please race. I want you to. It’s important that you do.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. I’ll be right here, probably still in bed when you get back.”

  His eyes light up, shining briefly with happiness, but then the struggle ensues.

  “Please…for me.”

  “I’ll come right home. I won’t even spend the night!”

  “That’s crazy! I don’t want you driving home that late. I’ll be right here. I promise.”

  His mouth crashes against mine.

  “I love you! Do you know that?”

  I shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, you might’ve said it once or twice.”

  Suddenly Tyler reaches for his laptop and types feverishly.

  “Here!” He points the screen. “They live stream everything so you can watch.”

  A smile spreads across my face and my heart races with excitement.
<
br />   “Just be careful!” I caress his face then slide my hand to my belly, rubbing in small circles.

  “Our baby boy needs his daddy.”

  WADDLING DOWN THE stairs, I use a firm grasp and slide my hand along the handrail carefully. After falling asleep quickly, I woke up a few hours later and spent the rest of the night restlessly, thinking about how I am going to miss Tyler’s final race of the season.

  I click the remote, looking for something to watch on TV but end up dozing until the scent of a freshly showered Tyler wakes me with a kiss. My eyes roam over his black T-shirt with his race team’s Superman logo. He looks delicious.

  “Why aren’t you in our bed?” His fingers slide over my cheek.

  I struggle to sit up. He quickly offers a hand as an odd look appears on his face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Were you crying?” he asks tenderly.

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t think so. Why?”

  “You have mascara and dried tears on your face.”

  I touch my face. “I do?” My brain works in overdrive trying to remember what happened last night.

  “I had a dream, I think.”

  The lack of sleep over the past few weeks has apparently caught up to me.

  “A dream? About what?”

  “I don’t really remember. It’s all a little fuzzy. I think Penny was in it though.”

  “Oh man! That would be a nightmare!” He laughs. “Well, you better stay put these next two days. Your mom is coming to stay here.”

  I reply with a smile. “She’s so good to me.”

  “She’s going to talk your ear off about designs, isn’t she?”

  “Probably. She’s already got more designs for me to look at. I don’t know why she asks my opinion. I don’t have an eye for details and color schemes like she does.”

  “She values your opinion,” he says, licking his lips and moving closer to kiss me. “And you have great taste.”

  The word “taste” sends a throb to my core and I groan.

  “You know what the worst part about having placenta previa is?”

  With his mouth against mine, he grins. “I think I know.”

  “It’s killing me!”

  “Me, too.”

  ***

  “PLEASE BE CAREFUL.” My pitiful attempt to mask the worry in my voice fails.

  “I’ll be fine. You’re the one who needs to be careful.”

  His arms wrap around me firmly, pulling me flush against the flat hard surface of his stomach.

  “Um, hello…belly!” I laugh.

  He ignores my comment and kisses his way down my neck until he steps back and comes to a stop at my round belly.

  “Take care of your mom, little man.”

  With his palms flat, he taps twice ever so gently.

  “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”

  “Okay,” I reply, remembering how differently this conversation used to go with someone else.

  After another round of exchanged words of love and affection, I wave goodbye as he maneuvers the truck and trailer into the street.

  As if he knows his daddy is leaving, our baby kicks in opposition.

  “I know, buddy. I know.” I rub my belly. “He’ll be back soon.”

  ***

  I STEP OUT of the shower, dress in my comfy pajamas and waddle my way downstairs to find my mother lounging on the couch with her laptop open.

  “Hi.” I lean in for a kiss. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Out for a ride on his bike.”

  “Dad’s riding a bicycle?” I glance outside, twilight now darkening the sky.

  “I told you he got a Harley.”

  “No, you didn’t!”

  “I did,” she sings.

  “You did?” I question skeptically. My pregnancy brain is now also affecting my memory.

  “Tyler went with him to pick it out.”

  “He did?” I ask again, but this time my voice is laced with even more disbelief. “Ty hates Harleys.”

  “Apparently, your father tried to convince him to get one.” She smiles warmly.

  “He doesn’t think they’re fast enough.”

  Looking at the clock on the mantle, I grab my laptop and settle in next to my mom.

  “Did you have a chance to look at the logos?”

  “Which ones?” I ask sarcastically. “You’ve given me a thousand different flash drives over the past few weeks.”

  “You know how I feel about email.”

  I roll my eyes as I click on the race track’s website to watch the live stream of test and tune.

  “Look at that! I see his jacket.” My mother shrieks and points to the bold-lettered name of STRONG across his back.

  It amazes me how she can be so intelligent yet technologically challenged.

  Pass after pass, Tyler flies down the track, testing his motorcycle’s velocity in preparation for tomorrow’s big race. Each time he drives past one of the cameras, he lifts his right hand to his heart and taps twice.

  Yes, Tyler. I’m in your heart and you’re in mine. Always.

  Late that night, I fall asleep on the phone talking to him.

  I wake to several text messages.

  Good night, baby.

  I miss you.

  I love you with all my heart.

  Pulling his pillow close to my nose, I inhale his scent slowly. He’s been gone for less than a day and I miss him terribly.

  My mother has a full breakfast ready for me when I finally make an appearance after breathing through some pretty intense Braxton Hicks contractions.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  I stretch and yawn. “Good.”

  My mother knows me almost better than I know myself.

  “Karrie?”

  “I had contractions again. The last few were pretty painful.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because they’re Braxton Hicks! I’m fine,” I lie.

  She eyes me knowingly and releases a huff.

  “What time is Ty’s race?”

  I peer at the time on the microwave and nearly jump to my feet.

  “In eight minutes.”

  “Slow down! You’ll hurt yourself!”

  My mother chases after me as I hobble to the living room to grab my laptop from the coffee table. I sit down and fire up my device, tapping my finger impatiently as it suddenly decides to restart.

  “C’mon. C’mon,” I beg, watching the small white dots go around and around in a circle.

  “Ma, log in! Hurry.”

  “I’m trying to save this new design. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Finally, my device loads and Tyler appears on the screen. There may be other things in sight, but I only see him.

  “Oh God! This one is full. Can I borrow one of the thousands I’ve given you over the past few weeks?”

  “Yeah, they’re in the spare room.”

  The adrenaline running through my body makes me feel slightly dizzy as the announcer bellows through the speaker, exciting the crowd for the final event in the Nitrous turbo class.

  “Ladies and gentleman, before we begin our final race of the day. We’d like to dedicate this race to Alex Parker and ask for a moment of silence.”

  The crowd settles and men remove their hats. It finally registers how many people are there. The stands are packed with people all interested in the sport.

  “Rest in peace, brother. Rest in peace.”

  The camera focuses on Tyler as he makes his way through the throng of people.

  “This race today is only for the best of the best.”

  Gabe leans in and talks to Tyler. He nods and closes his visor.

  “Can Tyler Strong prove he’s the best once and for all or will the rookie from Maryland steal his thunder?”

  Tyler heats the rear tire, creating a wall of white until he surges forward, pulling up to the pre-staging line. I see Gabe make some final adjustments and then pat Tyler’s back fir
mly.

  His right hand, clad in black leather, rises to his chest and taps twice. I wipe my eyes quickly, not wanting to miss a single second.

  When the racer next to him does the same, it’s go time.

  My mom sits beside me and from my peripheral vision, I see her wave something in her hand.

  “Found this one. Can I use it?”

  I peek over quickly. “Yeah, whatever.” I chomp down on my bottom lip as my nerves take center stage.

  “Are you s—”

  “Yes!” I hiss then quickly offer an apology for my harsh tone.

  My eyes are glued to the screen.

  “Oh, why won’t it go in?”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It won’t go in.”

  I huff. “Why aren’t you watching?”

  “I can’t. It makes me too nervous. I’ve seen more than my fair share of mangled bodies during medical school, thank you very much.”

  “Mom! He’s not going to get mangled!”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Please stop talking. I need to watch this!”

  The camera scans the length of the quarter mile track before zooming in on Tyler whose eyes are focused on the lights. There’s a determination and an intensity that I’ve never seen before. A second camera captures the two men from another angle.

  Both are ready.

  Tyler’s feet planted securely, his body low against the machine while the racer beside him taps his foot, a tell-tale sign of nerves. His gloved hand grips the throttle in anticipation.

  Tyler is frozen like a statue, completely immobile until the light changes color; his reaction time is one of the best. He opens the throttle, the engine screeching obnoxiously as if it were a wild caged animal. He lowers his torso, hovering over the gas tank. He is a warrior ready for battle.

  Seconds later, the lights illuminate amber then immediately flash to green.

  Like a bullet, Tyler surges forward, distancing himself quickly from his opponent on the left. My hands quickly cover my nose, my fingers pressing into the bridge of my nose as I watch the man I love race down the narrow stretch of pavement at two hundred miles an hour. The seconds feel like an eternity. The image of him shrinks in size the closer he gets to crossing the finish line.