by Shawn Inmon
Ruthie squinted at her in the way she always did when she knew something was up, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “Something’s going on with you. You seem a little too happy. Did your doctor prescribe some of those happy pills for you?”
Veronica put a long-practiced expression of complete innocence on her face.
Ruthie’s eyes flew wide. “You’re pregnant!”
Veronica’s mouth fell open. “How did you know?” She glanced down at her stomach. “Am I getting fat?”
“Hardly. You were trying so hard to look innocent, that I knew you weren’t, and it popped into my head.” Ruthie looked around, though she knew they were alone in the house. “Does Christopher know?”
“If I don’t serve it to him on a plate or pour it out of a beer bottle, he doesn’t see anything.”
Ruthie looked thoughtful. “So ...”
“So, nothing. I’m having a baby at the end of April or beginning of May. I’m thrilled.”
Ruthie shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and stared keenly at Veronica, who looked placidly back. “Huh. Okay. A baby then. That’s exciting, right?”
“It is. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
QUIETLY, VERONICA HAD begun using a tiny bit of her grocery money to buy a few things for Sarah—a rattle, a teething ring, a bib. She kept them at the back of her underwear drawer, but took them out to look at them several times a week. It helped her get through the months of waiting for Sarah to arrive.
EVERYTHING CHANGED on the second Tuesday of November. Veronica woke up with a pain in her abdomen. Uh-oh. I’ve completely avoided morning sickness, just like I did the first time I had her. Is this the start of that, or did I eat something I shouldn’t have yesterday?
Christopher was already up and in the bathroom, getting ready for work. Typically, she got up and made him his breakfast, but on this morning, she didn’t feel up to it. When Chris came back into the bedroom, she held up a hand in warning and said, “I think I might be catching something. Better not get too close to me. Can you make your own breakfast this morning?”
Christopher took half a step back and held his breath. “Sure. I’ll grab something on the way to the office.” Like a flash, he was gone.
Veronica lay back down with a groan, closed her eyes, and slept. When she woke up again a few hours later, she felt better. Whew. Good. No idea what that was, but I’m glad I’m on the other side of it. She slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, she noticed a small amount of blood in her underwear.
Veronica’s hand went automatically to her mouth. That’s not good. She pulled her pajama bottoms up and hurried in to the living room. She called her mom. As soon as she answered, she said, “Mom, I’m spotting. How bad is that?”
A few seconds of silence stretched out. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Some spotting can be normal. I did with Barbara, but not with you or Johnny. Maybe we should take you into see Dr. Graham?”
Veronica considered. “No. Let’s wait. I feel better now. I think it’s probably nothing.”
“Let’s do this. I’ve got a casserole in the freezer I can bring over. I’ll toss together a salad for you, and you can have that for Christopher’s dinner. That way you can rest today.”
Veronica thought about resisting, but decided against it. “Thanks, Mom. I think I’ll do exactly that.”
“You rest, I’ll be there soon.”
An hour later, Doris walked in to find Veronica lying on the couch. She took one look at her, put the casserole in the refrigerator, and said, “We’re going to the hospital.”
“Mom, I don’t need to. And, I’m still in my pajamas.”
“Hospitals see people in pajamas every day. You’re not going to shock them.” As she said this, she put her arm behind Veronica and helped her to sit up, then stand up, albeit shakily. “Where are your slippers?”
“In the bedroom.”
Doris glanced down the hall, then looked at Veronica, judging the likelihood that she would be able to stand on her own. She let Veronica sit back down, then hustled down the hall, returning moments later with her slippers.
“I miss when the magic used to move me.”
Doris looked into Veronica’s eyes, but she didn’t seem feverish.
“What do you mean, Ronnie?”
“Like when I was a kid, and I would fall asleep in the back seat of the car, or on the couch, while I was watching a movie. I would get sleepy, fall fast asleep, and then the next morning, I would wake up right in my own bed, safe and sound.”
“That was just Dad and I carrying you, sweetie.”
Veronica nodded. “I know, I know. I just miss it.”
Doris put her slippers on, put an arm around her and helped her to her car, then on to the emergency room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Six hours later, Dr. Graham stood with Doris McAllister, outside the hospital room Veronica shared with an old woman who was recovering from bladder surgery.
Dr. Graham wore a serious look. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McAllister. I ran a blood test. She’s no longer pregnant.”
“Oh, oh no,” Doris said, looking over the doctor’s shoulder at Veronica.
“She’s still young. A single miscarriage is nothing to be concerned about.”
Doris closed her eyes for two seconds, then impaled Dr. Graham with a stare. “That is easy to say, coming from a man who will never suffer through one.” She dismissed him. “Thank you, doctor.”
Graham disappeared as quickly as he could.
Doris stepped inside the hospital room. Unlike a twenty-first century hospital room, filled with electronic equipment, monitors, IVs and breathing machines, this room was simply immaculately clean, quiet, and bright. Although Doris walked on cat’s paws, Veronica sensed her presence and turned toward her.
The terrible question that she did not want to ask was answered silently by the expression on Doris’s face. Veronica closed her eyes tight and turned away for a long time. When she finally forced her eyes open again, Doris, the hospital, and the truth she didn’t want to face were all still there.
At that moment, Christopher appeared in the door. He burst into the room. “What’s going on here,” he asked in a stage whisper that was too-loud in the still room.
Doris grabbed him by the elbow and led him into the hallway and down a few doors. They had an animated conversation that didn’t reach Veronica’s ears, and she was thankful for that.
Now what? Every single thing I’ve done since I’ve woken up here was to bring Sarah and Nellie back, too. I did everything I could. Planned everything. And now, she’s gone. If she’s gone, I’m sure that means Nellie’s gone, too. They’re gone forever, and I know I will never see them again.
Hot tears streamed down her face.
Something was against this. That’s why it’s been like trying to push a piece of string uphill. Why, though, God? Do You hate me? Did You put me back here to test me, and somehow I’ve failed You?
She shook her head vehemently.
No! I did everything. She turned her head to look at Christopher, who turned his head at that exact moment and met her eyes. I hate you, Christopher Allen Belkins. I never want to see you again.
Christopher and Doris, still deep in conversation, walked down the hallway, moving further away from her.
I don’t want to be here anymore. I won’t be. She stood, ignored the pain she felt in her abdomen, shucked off the hospital gown and stood naked in the room, not caring that anyone passing by could see her. She stepped to the small closet, retrieved the pajamas she had arrived at the hospital in, and put them on quickly. She grabbed her house slippers and put them on too.
While Christopher and Doris were distracting each other, Veronica turned the other way, hurried down the stairs at the end of the hall and immediately got lost. She turned down one corridor, another, and another, but finally found a door that led outside. She walked around the side of
the hospital and toward the busy street.
She wanted to run and run and never look back. She rushed onto the hospital’s circular drive and directly into the path of an ambulance. The ambulance driver jumped on his brakes, but there was no way to stop in time. It hit Veronica on her right side, knocked her out of her slippers and threw her thirty feet away, where she landed with a sickening thud on the pavement.
She lay on her back, staring up into the gray sky, trying to understand what had happened to her, when the pain from her broken bones broke through her shock.
Oh God, oh God. Please take me away from here.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Veronica McAllister opened her eyes with a grimace of expected pain. A paperback book fell from her lap. Her hands flew to her face.
It took her two full beats to realize she was no longer lying on the pavement in front of Middle Falls Hospital in 1962.
I’m here again. I started over. Same place.
Low-slung, orange couch. A television set that no longer looked so retro to her eye. Two bookshelves filled with knick-knacks and Reader’s Digest Condensed Books.
Is this it for me, then? Am I doomed to live my life over and over, starting in this same spot each time?
She reached down and absently picked the book up off the floor, setting it on the couch beside her. There was no need to make an investigative tour of the house. She knew exactly where and when she was.
What does this all mean? If I have to live this life over and over, I will go crazy. Will the universe even care, or will I just continue to live the same life anyway?
Veronica leaned back against the couch. The physical trauma of the miscarriage was completely gone. The emotional impact lingered. So. No matter what I do, no matter what sacrifices I might be willing to make, Sarah and Nellie are lost to me. She put her hands together as if to pray, and touched them to her lips. Wherever you are, I pray you will find a mother who will love you as I do. Please forgive me.
She gathered herself, walked to the hall closet and grabbed her coat. She sat back down on the couch and slipped the paperback into her coat pocket.
Every damned thing I did for these last four years is gone, then. Mom. You and I are going to be right back at square one again, aren’t we? This time, though, I know the secret to unlocking that sticky lock. You want to be needed, and to help.
Headlights briefly illuminated the inside of the living room as a car pulled into the driveway.
And you, Christopher Belkins. If I see you again, I will tell you exactly what I think, you pompous, overbearing—
The front door opened, interrupting her mini-rant. A smiling man and attractive woman walked in, fresh, once again, from an evening out.
“Well,” the man said, “how was he? A monster like usual?”
“Oh, you,” the woman said, lightly batting his arm. She turned to Veronica. “Don’t pay any attention to him, dear. “James, can you pay Veronica and give her a ride home, while I check on Zack?”
“Sure, sure. No problem,” he said, although he was only half-listening. He walked around the living room, inspecting, then went into the kitchen. Veronica followed a few feet behind him and saw that he was counting the beer bottles.
No sir. I don’t believe 1958 Veronica would have drank any of your beer, and I know that third-time-around Veronica didn’t either.
James Weaver came back into the living room, pulled out his wallet, and said, “Let’s see ... “
“Twenty five cents an hour, and fifty cents after midnight, so $1.75,” Veronica said.
James raised his eyebrows, chuckled a little bit. “Right. Right you are, Miss McAllister. Let’s round it up to two dollars. Good babysitters are hard to find.”
Things start out essentially the same, but I can change whatever I want, and the ripples will spread out from there. I can be anyone, or anything I want.
James handed her two one dollar bills and said, “Ready?”
Ten minutes later, James dropped Veronica off at the curb in front of her childhood home. It didn’t have the same awe-inspiring impact it had the previous time this scene had played out. She had seen this house just a few days before.
Well, I’m here. I have a feeling that if I found another ambulance to step out in front of, I’d be right back here again. I might as well figure out how to do things the best I am capable of.
She pushed the door open quietly and slipped her shoes off. She tiptoed back to the calendar she knew was hanging over her mother’s small desk. Work tomorrow. That’s just as well. It will be good to see everyone again. I need to stay busy.
She walked quietly to the stairs and put her foot on the first riser when she sensed she was being watched. Her mother stood at the top of the stairs, her old blue robe covering her night clothes. Her hair was in curlers.
Unexpectedly, the sight of her mother caused the deep well of grief she was trying to suppress, bubble up. Oh, Mom. I acted selfishly, and too quickly. Did I leave you back at the hospital, looking for me, then finding my broken body in the drive? I’m sorry. I was in such pain.
Veronica stepped quickly up to the second floor. She didn’t say a word, but enveloped her mother in a hug and laid her head against her neck. She whispered, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Doris held her at arm’s length. “Sorry? Sorry for what? Are you all right? Did something happen?”
Veronica felt tears welling, but did her best to smile through them while shaking her head. “No, nothing, Mom. Everything’s fine. I’ve just been thinking a lot. I know I’ve got to work tomorrow, but on Sunday, after church, would you maybe show me a few things in the kitchen? I really want to learn how to cook.” Disingenuous, maybe, but it will be nice to be with her, even if I already know the things she’s teaching me.
In the semi-darkness of the hallway, Doris’s eyes went wide. “Well, of course. Is there anything in particular you want me to show you?”
“Everything. I love you, Mom. Goodnight.”
Veronica slipped into her once-again familiar bedroom, took off her clothes and got her pajamas out of her bottom drawer. She looked at her skirt, then hung it up, but dropped her sweater into a small hamper. She set her alarm clock for 9:00 a.m. and slipped into bed.
It’s a fresh start. Let’s make the most of it.
A moment later, she was asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The alarm clanged to life at 9:00 a.m.. Veronica fuzzily threw an arm out to shut it off, but instead knocked it to the floor. It danced and vibrated shrilly. She picked it up, shut it off, and rubbed her eyes.
What is it about being reincarnated, or time traveling, or whatever I’m doing, that makes me sleep like that? She cast her eyes upward. Hey, God, if you’re up there, I sure could use an instruction book. Right now, I’m kind of stumbling along without one.
She jumped in the shower to clear her head, got dressed and headed downstairs to find Wallace McAllister heading out the front door, golf bag over his shoulder.
“Bye, Daddy. Have fun golfing. Knock ‘em dead, or break a leg, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do.” She kissed him on the cheek then walked into the kitchen.
“Ronnie?” her father asked.
“Uh-huh?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “Just not used to seeing you quite so chipper on a Saturday morning. Your mom will give you a ride to work, but I’ll come get you when your shift’s over.”
Veronica smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget. I’ll have your special delivery waiting for you.”
Wallace ducked a little and looked around the corner for Doris, but she was still upstairs. “Shh!” he said, but he was smiling. “See you then, kitten.”
“Oh, and Daddy. I don’t know if I ever remembered to thank you for getting me the job at Artie’s. I love working there.”
“Sure, Ronnie, glad to have done it.” He shook his head a bit, as if he didn’t recognize this new being in front of him.
Veronica
poured herself a bowl of Cheerios, splashed some milk in.
She had finished eating and was washing her bowl, when Doris came into the kitchen. She seemed to be stepping into an unfamiliar situation.
“Good morning?”
“Morning, Mom. Do you want me to give Barb a lift to school for her drill team practice? I’m sure you have a million things to do, other than chauffeur us around.”
Doris’s eyes narrowed as she ran this through her brain, looking for any possible reason for this strange behavior. When none came, she nodded. “And, you have to be at work by noon?”
“Yes, ma’am. I thought maybe you could drop me off at Artie’s on the way to pick up Barb when her practice is over. We’ll have to leave a few minutes early, but I don’t mind.”
Doris nodded numbly. She was being out-efficiented by her daughter. That was unprecedented.
“Okay, great,” Veronica said, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ll go check on Barb and make sure she’s ready to go. We’ve got to be there by 10:00, right?”
Another numb nod.
Veronica stepped to her mom, kissed her cheek, and said, “Why don’t you relax and have another cup of coffee, Mom. You look like you could use it.” Veronica whistled to herself as she went upstairs to get Barb.
VERONICA’S FIRST DAY back at Artie’s was less stressful than in her last life. It had only been a few years since she had worked there, instead of six decades. She remembered what her job was, who everyone was, and managed to called the fry cook “DJ” instead of “Dimitri.”
In the middle of her shift, Danny Coleman pulled in again in his parent’s wagon, Lisa Berry once again by his side. I feel for you, Lisa. You’re in the passenger seat today, feeling snug and happy, but you’ll be tossed out soon enough. It’s the way of the world.
Veronica delivered the tray to Danny and Lisa, then took her break. DJ made her another “Ronnie Special,” and she sat in the dining room, eating her burger basket and drinking her Coke. Just as she had done the previous life, she watched Danny and Lisa. They were listening to music, laughing and eating.
