by Edie Ramer
“Wow,” he said.
She laughed, and was a bit surprised that she could laugh after all that had happened tonight. “Yes, wow.”
“I can’t remember the last time it was so...”
“Intense,” she said.
He nodded. She reached her hand up. “It’s a first for me,” she said.
She didn’t say so, but she supposed Marsh’s death had made her feel more alive. Made it matter more. Turned sex into an affirmation of life.
He leaned down and kissed her, their lips closed. Then he slid out of her and rolled out of bed...
And something leaked out between her legs.
She sat up, all her senses that had been lulled a second ago snapping to wakefulness. “Either something tore inside me or your condom has sprung a leak.”
He looked down at his shrinking condom-wrapped penis. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Directing him across the hall, she got out of bed and ascertained the stuff leaking down her thighs was definitely semen.
She was not surprised. Nothing inside her hurt. In fact, her insides felt pretty good.
“A baby,” she whispered, and put her hands over her belly.
The possibility was tiny. So tiny she shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But, oh, if she could have a baby it would be...
A miracle.
Chapter Twenty-six
A soft cry woke Becky. Half asleep and lost in a fuzzy dream, she thought it was a baby’s cry, a baby just waking up. A cry that said, ‘I’m lost. Help me.’
Opening her eyes, she looked straight into Sarah’s face. Her sister’s mouth was twisted with anguish.
“I felt someone in bed with me,” Sarah whispered hoarsely. “I thought it was Marsh and this whole thing was a bad dream.”
Becky propped herself up on her elbow. After Trey left, she came up and crawled into bed with Sarah. She had the feeling it would help in the morning. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone. Sorry.”
“No, no, no.” Tears dampened Sarah’s eyes. “I would’ve felt worse. Thank you for being here.”
Becky reached out to her, but Sarah rolled to face the wall. “I’m going to be okay. I just want to be by myself for a bit.”
“Of course.” Becky drew her arm back and scooted out of the bed. “Do you want breakfast?”
Sarah’s head shook. “I’ll get up before Cody comes back. I have to be strong for him.” She gave a half sob, half laugh. “It’s going to sound crazy, but it felt as if Marsh were with me last night. I couldn’t see or hear or touch him. But I sensed him. Almost as if I’d turn around and there he’d be.”
Becky stood still, not leaving. In her mind, she saw Marsh’s ghost again. His open face, bewildered and surprised and sad. But there had been something more...
“When I did turn...he wasn’t there.” This time Sarah sobbed aloud for a few seconds before she shuddered to a stop. “I was...bereft all over again. As if someone stabbed me in the heart.”
“There’s something I didn’t tell you last night.” The scene of the accident still strong in her mind, Becky leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I didn’t think you were ready.”
Sarah rolled over and pushed up on her elbows. “Ready for what?”
“Trey and I had gone to Tomahawk for dinner at the Thai place.” Becky paused. Sarah nodded, two vertical frown lines between her eyebrows. Becky squared her shoulders and continued. “We came upon the accident just after the emergency people got there. Minutes after it happened.”
Sarah sucked her breath in audibly, and Becky winced. She hurried to get on with the rest of her story.
“I tried to get to his truck, but a fireman blocked me. And suddenly, I saw...” She stopped. Awe and grief and horror and happiness swelled inside her brain.
It was too much emotion. A huge overload.
“What?” Sarah swung her legs over the side of the bed and pushed off. She stood two steps in front of Becky. Her face looked ravaged. Her eyes red and dull. Her complexion ashy. Her cheekbones hollow. As if she weren’t far from death herself.
“I saw his...” Becky paused again, and the lines between Sarah’s eyebrows deepened. The words rushed out of Becky’s mouth. “His ethereal body.”
Sarah’s forehead scrunched. “What?”
Becky grimaced. “That didn’t come out too well. I was trying not to say this, but I saw his ghost.”
“Don’t.” Sarah brought up her hands, warding Becky away from her. “Don’t do this to me.”
She stepped back, and Becky reached out and grabbed Sarah’s wrists. “No, listen, Sarah. I saw him. I heard him.” She heard her voice change. Breathless from awe. “He told me to take care of you and Cody and the baby.”
“No,” Sarah whispered, shaking her head.
“Yes.” Becky kept hold of Sarah’s wrists. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Why you?” Sarah’s voice rose, her mouth and jaw twisted. “Why didn’t he come to me?”
“I was there. He was rising out of the truck. He didn’t hang around and have a conversation. It was all about you.”
Sarah wrenched her wrists from Becky’s grip and snapped around, her back bent, her shoulders hunched forward, her head bowed. “Just one touch. Just one last touch.”
Becky looked at Sarah’s stooped back. “Remember when I said he was your angel?”
Sarah shook her head, her blond hair flopping.
“When I was rubbing your back?”
“That’s right, I hit you. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure I deserved it from another time.”
A laugh came out of Sarah’s mouth. Then she lifted her hand to her face. Becky couldn’t see her face, but she pictured Sarah putting the back of her hand in her mouth, the way she used to when she was a toddler.
“I was singing Angel by Sarah McLachlan,” Becky said, “and this feeling came over me that he was your angel.”
Sarah slowly turned. Her hand came down. Her head rose. Her eyes glared. “You’re one of those people now? The woo-woo people?”
Becky backed up. She hadn’t expected Sarah to believe her right off. It still hurt, but she reminded herself that Sarah was hurting a lot more than Becky. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”
“You do that.”
Sarah faced the wall again and crossed her arms. Becky thought if she were an artist, she would remember Sarah’s hunched back, sorrow in every line, and try to catch it in whatever medium she used. To create a portrait of grief.
But she was just Sarah’s sister and didn’t have any special skills besides seeing ghosts and sparkles. And recently she realized she had a skill for appreciating lovemaking.
That was a marketable skill, though not one she was likely to use that way.
So Becky left the bedroom to go downstairs to take care of the dog and the puppies and the kitten. Soon the calls would come, and she would need to answer them.
A bolt of anger shook her. What happened to the miracle that the words on the car windows had promised? She wanted to see Marsh walk into the house, healed and better than ever, with or without the ugly pirate tattoo on his left bicep. It didn’t matter. She just wanted to see his grinning face and his laughing eyes as he said, “I fooled you, didn’t I? I fooled ’em all.”
If Jesus could come back from the dead, why not Marsh? After all, Marsh had a family. Fathers...the good ones...shouldn’t be taken from their children.
She reached the first floor and turned toward the puppy room. Moved one foot in front of the other.
But if Marsh weren’t the miracle...
She put her hand over her stomach – over her womb – stopped and looked at the ceiling. “Please,” she said. “Please.”
And then the animals called her, making squeaks, high-pitched barks and meows, and she went to take care of them.
Life went on, even after it seemed to stop.
As she let Goldie outside a moment later, the phone rang. She hurried over to it, looked at the caller�
��s name and backed away. It rang again, and she answered it this time because if she didn’t, it would disturb Sarah.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“How’s Sarah?” her father demanded, his voice gruff as if he were talking to an employee, letting her know he hadn’t forgiven her for defying him.
Today she didn’t care.
She breathed in, her chest expanded. Not caring empowered her. “She’s in bed.”
“You need to get her up to take care of her son. That’s what I did—”
“Cody’s at a sleepover at a neighbor’s. We thought it better to leave him there overnight. Sarah will tell him later this morning. If you don’t mind, I have things to do.”
She hung up because she realized she was getting angry in spite of the not caring thing. Maybe she was having delusions...seeing sparkles and ghosts. But he seemed to have forgotten that when her mother died, he’d left her to tell Sarah while he talked to everyone else but them.
Her hands shook and she took deep breaths. She didn’t want this drama today. Didn’t want the extra tension. If her father were a decent human, he’d stay away from her and Sarah.
After all, he’d stayed away emotionally most of their lives. Why ruin that record now?
She turned away. Whatever happened, she and Sarah would handle it when it came up. No need to invent catastrophes where there weren’t any. Nothing could be worse for Sarah than Marsh’s death.
Unless something happened to Cody.
But Cody was fine. Sarah still had her boy. And in four months, she would have another child.
The phone rang again. This time the name on the display was a neighbor’s. Becky wished she could leave it go to voice mail, but once again, she picked it up to avoid waking Sarah. She talked for a few moments, told the neighbor no arrangements were made yet, that Sarah was asleep. When she hung up, she barely took two steps from the phone before it rang again. And again and again and again.
The sixth call was from Linda Wegner. After that, there was one more concerned caller before the phone stopped ringing. No miracle there. For the first time, Becky appreciated Linda’s big mouth. Linda must have gotten the word out that Sarah wasn’t ready to talk.
Finally Becky had time to feed Goldie and the puppies. The puppies were being weaned, though they weren’t self-sufficient yet. Becky fed the kitten in the kitchen. The kitten was a few weeks older than the newborn puppies, and they had to keep her food from the puppies or they might eat it and get sick.
These animals were work.
After that, she was about to clean in the puppy room, but the black puppy nudged her ankle, letting her know it wanted to be cuddled.
“I’m spoiling you, aren’t I?” Ready for a break, Becky picked up the puppy and sat in the dining room chair, settling the puppy on her lap. She wanted to name it, but if she did that she’d end up keeping it. The only way that could happen would be if a miracle happened.
But if she could wish for a miracle...
She bent her back and kissed the puppy’s smooth head. “If there could be a miracle right now, this second, I’d wish Marsh would be here. Alive and well. Saying it was some kind of macabre joke. And if that won’t happen, I wish you could be changed into a human baby.”
The puppy licked her hand then wiggled, ready to go back to his playmates. Happy to be alive. Happy to be a puppy.
Becky laughed softly. For the moment fully relaxed, fully alive. Still sitting in the chair, she leaned forward and set him on the floor. Sitting back, she watched him run to the other puppies.
“I don’t blame you for not wanting to be human. I’d much rather be a puppy, too. I’d play, eat, drink, pee and poop all day. Lie in the sun and take walks. Then pee and poop again...and take another nap.”
The black dog was wrestling with one of his brothers. Another puppy was rolling on its back, all four paws dancing in the air. Two others were sleeping.
The kitten was on top of the dining room table. Already nimble. It would probably start leaping over the barrier soon.
A puppy started heaving. She grimaced. Any moment...
The other puppies all stopped what they were doing to watch. Reality Puppy TV.
Yep, there it came, out of the puppy’s mouth and onto the blanket. The dining room filling up with the sour scent.
She grimaced. “Another puppy bonus. You can throw up and someone else will clean up after you. In fact, you never have to clean anything.” Like Jim and her father, she thought, but didn’t want to dwell on that – though she wondered fleetingly who was cleaning up after Jim now. “Never have to pay bills. Or clean toilets. Or do taxes.”
“Or shave legs,” Sarah said from the hall. “I hate shaving my legs.”
“Then don’t.” Becky stood. “I didn’t hear you come down.”
“The dog was probably getting ready to puke then. Something about that pre-puking sound takes all our attention.”
“It’s because we know we have to clean it up.” Becky walked to the barrier and climbed over it.
“I’ll clean.” Sarah put her hand on Becky’s shoulder. “I’m okay now. As soon as I’m done, I’ll call Joy and tell her to bring Cody over.”
Becky took a good look at Sarah. Except for the reddened eyes and the bags beneath them, she looked almost normal. But her spark was gone. Her zest. As if she lost a chunk of her soul.
Or the love of her life.
“You call Joy,” Becky said. “I’ll clean.”
Sarah peered past her, at the puppies, her eyes unfocused, her mind far away. Then she gave a sad smile. “Neither of us needs to pick up the puppy puke. It’s taken care of.”
“Huh?” Becky whipped her head around and saw the puke was gone. “How did—”
“Goldie. Don’t look so disgusted.” Sarah climbed over the barrier into the puppy room, not clumsy despite her burgeoning tummy. “That’s what dogs do. I’m sorry your date was ruined last night.”
“Don’t apologize.” Becky held up her hand to stop the stubbornness that was making Sarah’s jaw stick out like their father’s. “Just don’t.”
Sarah gave a shaky laugh, her jawline now her own. A puppy barreled into her ankle and she leaned down, scooped it up then held it against her breast. The puppy craned its head up and licked her chin. She smiled down at the puppy before looking at Becky. “I was hoping you’d get lucky and now it didn’t happen.”
Becky put her head down and turned to the kitchen. “There should be something I can do. Just tell me.”
“No, there’s nothing— Ouch!”
Becky turned back and saw Sarah set the puppy back on the floor. Sarah straightened, a red mark on her chin – probably from the puppy’s teeth – but a smile dawning on her face. “You did it, didn’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-eight
The question stunned Becky. She couldn’t talk about this. It was tacky enough she’d done it with Trey only hours after Marsh’s death. But to confide the details to Sarah... She made a face and shook her head.
“You don’t want to talk about what Trey and I did.”
Sarah’s face tightened. Anguish seeped the color from her face, and she looked sick with desolation. “Don’t tiptoe around me. Just don’t.”
“Sarah, there’s just no way you’re ready for this now.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m ready for.” Sarah’s voice rose with the last word. The atmosphere in the hall between the kitchen and the dining room thickened.
“Honey, I just know that if I were you—”
“You’d what? Suddenly become Mother Teresa? Become untouchable? Sit atop a mountain and pray?”
“No, I don’t know what I’d want to do.”
“Then let me tell you,” Sarah said, her voice harsh and sharp at the same time. “I want to crawl into a grave with Marsh and hold his dead body. Is that what you want to hear?”
Becky kept herself from showing her revulsion, but couldn’t stop from pulling back.
On Sarah’s face, sh
e saw the flash of anger. “Don’t expect me to be that person.” Sarah spoke low, through her teeth.
“What person?” Becky held out her hands. She didn’t want to make this worse for Sarah, but obviously that’s what she was doing. All her years as the counselor to her almost ex-husband’s parishioners were failing her now when it mattered most.
“The kind who goes into a nun’s silence. I don’t have the luxury to shut down. I have a kid. I’m not going to be like Dad and ignore him.”
“Oh God, no.” Becky rocked forward on her toes then back on her heels.
“When Mom died...” Sarah stopped sniffing as tears coursed down her cheeks. “You kept going. You didn’t crawl into a closet and lock yourself in.”
Becky tried to talk but couldn’t. Tears got in her way. She swallowed them, but some escaped. In fact, a flood of them traveled down her cheeks, her chin, her throat, into the V-neckline of her top.
“You’re my hero,” Sarah said.
Becky’s tears dripped faster. She hurried into the kitchen, toward the box of tissues next to the microwave. She grabbed a couple, blew her nose hard, then reached to grab another one. Her fingers collided with Sarah’s and she had to wait for Sarah to pull one away before taking another.
They both blew their noses gustily at the same time.
“I had to be there for you,” Becky said. “I cried myself to sleep at night for a long, long time.”
Sarah nodded. Not saying she’d do the same for Marsh. Not needing to say it.
“I still mourn Mom,” Becky continued, her voice rough. “I don’t think I ever got over it.”
“Because you didn’t mourn? Because you couldn’t?”
Becky frowned. “I missed her because I loved her.” Her voice broke. “I still do.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over Marsh.” Sarah stared down at her hand with the thin gold wedding band. “I’ll be ninety years old and miss him.”
“Yeah.” Becky frowned at Sarah’s hand, too. And wished there was something she could do. Something that would help Sarah...
