When the tires of our car hit the long driveway to our house, Cole remarked that he probably needed to mow the lawn. I recognized this as code for I want to be alone, so I didn’t argue. Instead, I marched myself upstairs to the bedroom and pulled those jeans off as fast as I could, throwing them in the corner in a heap as though they had been the source of the day’s misfortune.
Honestly, it felt good to cast blame on something, even if it was those ridiculous denim sweatpants. Without something to take the fall, I was harboring a lot of resentment for myself. Shouldn’t I have given up jogging? Eaten better? Focused more on quality sleep? Not stressed out as much about Rita and Hannah? The little red pitchfork on my shoulder would whisper in my ear that I wasn’t good enough, and that I had caused the nightmare we were living, but then I would shake it off because I knew it was a dead-end road.
Dr. McCavin had said that these things happened for no reason. That wasn’t particularly comforting, though. “For no reason” sounded a lot like coincidence, and Cole and I didn’t believe in coincidence. If there was no such thing as coincidence, then there could be a very definite meaning behind the incident unfolding, and that had the potential to hurt exponentially more than what I was feeling at the moment.
Refusing to follow my thoughts into a rabbit hole, I stepped into the closet and found some track shorts, pulling them on and proceeding back down the hall. The baby’s room beckoned, and I stepped inside and stared solemnly at the crib, thinking about Cole taking the time to put it together. He had to have been at least as devastated as I was. Crossing to the window, I stared out at him as he mowed down one side of the lawn and back up the other, looking stoic and emotionless.
Sitting in the rocking chair, I brought my knees close to my chest. It was impossible to lift them all the way, because my abdomen was still protruding in defiance of what the ultrasound had shown.
They might be wrong – the baby could be fine.
I couldn’t make myself imagine that was true. Dropping my head onto my knees, I succumbed to my grief.
-§-
“Hello! Camdyn, are you here?”
I heard the voice from downstairs, and I dropped my feet to the ground and hastily wiped my eyes, wondering why Liz had to choose that precise moment to swing by.
“Dad and I want to take you two out to dinner!” she continued, as I took a deep breath at the top of the stairs. It would be pointless to hide the fact that I had been crying, so I might as well face it head on. “And Cole said you were going to get an ultrasound today. We can’t wait to hear the results.”
A groan escaped my lips before I even realized it was pouring forth, and I paused for a moment near the foot of the stairs.
God, help me, I can’t handle breaking so many hearts today.
Just a few steps later, I rounded the corner into the kitchen as Cole burst through the front door, exhaling quickly as though he had sprinted to the house. Liz stood there looking surprised by Cole’s sudden appearance, and then concerned over my tears.
“Mom,” Cole tried to fend her off. She looked from my face to Cole’s without saying a word, and he let out a prolonged sigh. “Mom, not now, okay? Come on.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head in my direction quizzically. “Did something happen today?”
“Mom, please…” Cole begged.
“We went to the doctor today,” I informed her, glancing up at the ceiling to control my emotions. “The baby… There’s nothing they can do…”
“What?” she whispered. “Cole, what happened?” Taking a step closer to his mother, he wrapped his arm around her protectively, just like he habitually did to me.
“We lost the baby, Mom. No why, or how, or any explanation.”
“Oh no,” she said, crossing quickly to where I stood and placing her arms around my shoulders. “Camdyn, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” She attempted to soothe me by rubbing my back in a motherly way. “What will you do, honey?”
“Just…wait and see what happens,” I muttered, allowing fresh tears to escape.
“Bless your hearts,” she said, brushing my hair away from my face. “What can I do for you?”
“Can you tell everybody?” Cole asked quietly. “I don’t want to have to do this fifteen times.”
“Of course.” She backed up a couple steps, glancing at Cole. “I’m just one minute away, Camdyn, and I’ll be here the instant you call.”
“I know,” I assured her. Cole leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, and then he opened the door so she could be on her way again. The instant she was safely out of earshot, he peeled a layer of my emotion back with those dark eyes. Trying to be strong, I gave him a rather fake smile and walked over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
Focusing on the cabinets was my only goal at the moment, but I could still sense him closing the distance between us, moving up behind me. When his hand rested on my shoulder, I dropped my head and felt a fresh round of tears prick my eyes.
“My heart is broken,” I whispered, closing my eyes against the onslaught of emotions. His arm slid around me slowly and he held my back against him, placing his head next to mine atop my shoulder.
“Mine too,” he stated quietly. “Maybe if we try to mesh them together, we’ll be able to find a way to make it to tomorrow.”
-§-
Tomorrows can’t hold many promises when you’re engulfed in death. Even if Cole and I could manage to stop thinking about it, I couldn’t find a way to escape it, because it was dwelling inside me. I tried to focus enough to write, or to do some housework, or even to mindlessly watch television, but inevitably my mind would shift back to that truth that I couldn’t escape.
I was a walking graveyard.
Cole was trying – really, he was. He went back to work the very next day, because sitting in that quiet house and staring at death wasn’t overly appealing.
He would have never stated that, but it’s what I believed, because it was my reality. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror with my pregnant-looking frame, I thought about mortality. Alternating through brief glimmers of hope and deep pits of despair, I remained in the house and refused to speak to anyone on the phone. It had been three days, and somewhere deep inside I wanted to believe that something would have already happened if Dr. McCavin was correct. The fact that nothing happened should have been encouraging.
Yet, a small part of me truly believed he was right. That part fought to wash me over the edge into complete misery, and I paddled against it with all my might, longing to stay afloat. Grief had damaged my life in the past, and I knew some of its tricks. I tried to outrun it after my grandmother’s death years ago, but it was inescapable. Rita had done the same thing when my father died, and it had taken her to the edge of ruin.
That third day, I finally decided to take a walk outside. It was a small thing, but it was a vast improvement from my stints in bed. The fact that I had managed to put up a good show in front of Cole was irrelevant, because he could probably tell from my swollen eyes that I was having a harder time than I let on.
Pop met me almost immediately, wagging his tail and sniffing along beside my feet. For some reason, I was drawn back into the woods, and Pop and I meandered along the trail while I focused on numbing my mind to everything but the smells, sights, and sounds. Normally Pop was rambunctious and full of energy, but that day he was reserved, as though he sensed something was off.
Finding myself near the edge of the property, I emerged to the wooden bench Cole had placed there, next to the three stones that my fifth great-grandmother Willa had set for the children she lost. Settling on the bench, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the stones. Pop nuzzled his face next to my stomach, almost as though he knew what was happening, and I gazed down at him with sad eyes.
“Thank you, Pop,” I whispered. A whimper was his only response, so I lifted my eyes and shifted my view to the tree line.
Perhaps the land was cursed, after all. W
illa had followed her dreams here, and she had undoubtedly poured out her grief in the very spot where I sat. We were connected by blood and by circumstance, and the realization was so startling that I offered no new tears at the thought. Instead, I simply pondered the meaning of such a cruel twist of fate.
-§-
My next appearance on Almost Midnight with Jamie Price was supposed to happen in a mere four days, but there was no way I was going to agree to a media circus in my present state. The three messages from the show reminded me again and again that I made a promise, but if that wasn’t a breakable promise, then I was quite certain none existed in the history of the world.
Finally, Jamie called me on the phone himself, and that was when I knew things were coming to a head. I was already imagining him excoriating me for canceling, and finding a fresh round of jokes at my expense. When I heard his voice on the phone, though, I decided it was best to be brutally honest.
“How is my favorite little blonde bombshell?” he began the conversation, already with that teasing tone to his voice.
“I’ve been better,” I answered simply.
“I’m starting to really worry about you. I don’t think you would blow me off, so it’s making me concerned for your wellbeing, young lady.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Well, are you going to share with me? I called you myself, and I have plenty of assistants for that kind of thing.”
I had to smile at his statement in spite of myself. Twisting a coffee mug in my hand, I looked out the large front window and watched as a couple red leaves danced in the wind. The seasons were getting ready to change, whether I wanted them to or not.
“Jamie, you have been wonderful to me on your show, and I really appreciate it,” I stated, pausing to consider my words. “I would love to visit you again, but not right now.”
“What’s wrong with right now?”
“I lost my baby.”
An awkward silence commenced, and I hesitated to say anything else, because I didn’t know Jamie well enough to know how he would react.
“Well,” he finally said, clearing his throat, “I don’t know what to say, Camdyn. I’m really awfully sorry. Of course I understand why you don’t want to do the show right now. You just get yourself feeling better, okay?”
How is that possible? I don’t have a head cold.
“I will do my best,” I assured him. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I do hope you’ll come back, though, after a while.”
“Me too,” I told him sincerely.
Afterwards, I erased all my emails and voice mail messages, save one – an email message from Laurel with a copy to Lex explaining the itinerary for that conference she had booked. It was roughly one month away, at a large church in Louisville, and she had the whole thing planned to the slightest detail. Even though I knew that she and Lex had done a lot of work for the conference on my behalf, I was also aware that I would have to cancel. The present time didn’t seem like the best for having that conversation, though, so I saved it for another day.
In the meantime, for whatever reason, Sara and Rachel chose that afternoon to visit me and offer sympathy.
Together.
Looking very pregnant.
The instant I spotted them through the window, I muttered some choice words under my breath and then immediately said a little prayer, because I was already a mixture of hurt and frightened just by the thought of facing them.
“Hi, Camdyn,” Rachel said quietly when I opened the door. She probably didn’t know what to think about the fact that it was two o’clock in the afternoon and I was wearing pink fuzzy pajama pants, but I hadn’t expected to have company. In fact, I hadn’t really planned on even taking a shower that day, if I was being honest.
“Welcome to hermit central,” I joked. Sara gave me a sympathetic smile, and I fought the urge to be annoyed.
“How are you holding up?” Rachel wanted to know.
“Well, I’m here, I guess.”
“We brought you one of Rosalie’s pies.” She handed it to me ceremoniously, and I attempted to smile as I placed it on the counter behind me.
“Everything’s better with pie, right?” I joked awkwardly. Rachel grabbed my arm, staring me directly in the eye.
“I love you, Camdyn. I’m so very sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said self-consciously, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Can I get you ladies something? A piece of pie? That’s probably about all I have to offer, honestly.”
“No,” Sara answered, closing the door behind her. “We were worried about you, since you weren’t at church Sunday.”
“I just feel awkward being around people right now.”
“There’s no need to feel awkward,” Sara was quick to inform me.
“Well, if my doctor is correct, I’m carrying around a dead baby. That seems a little awkward.”
“You’re entitled to do whatever you need to do,” Rachel defended me immediately, pulling me over to the couch. “What can we help you with, Camdyn?”
Do you have a time machine? I’d like to escape the house and avoid this conversation.
Rather than answer, I simply shook my head. Rachel linked her arm through mine, like she had a habit of doing, and even though it felt wrong at the moment, I didn’t begrudge her the closeness. That was how she related to me, in that sisterly kind of way, and since I didn’t particularly want to be treated differently right then, I sat there with our arms together like a couple of grade school friends.
“So, I heard you’re having a girl, Sara. I guess you probably found out too, Rachel?”
“We’re having a boy,” Rachel stated guiltily.
“Awesome,” I managed to whisper. “That’s awesome.”
“We don’t need to talk about that,” Rachel was quick to add, at which point I laughed sharply.
“We can’t just ignore it like the elephant in the room. It’s okay, seriously.”
“What do they want you to do, Camdyn?” Sara spoke up, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees.
“The doctor gave me two options: induce labor, or wait and see what happens. It felt wrong to force things, you know. I mean, just in case he was wrong.”
“It’s just so hard to understand,” Rachel said, barely above a whisper. I tightened my arm in hers, almost feeling protective of Cole’s younger sister.
“Sometimes I don’t think we’re meant to understand.” Sara’s voice took a serious note that I wasn’t used to hearing. “God works in mysterious ways.”
She probably didn’t expect me to laugh, and I could tell it took her off guard. Even though Sara’s husband was the Associate Pastor at church, she had never tried to preach to me.
I didn’t like it.
“God wants your baby to live and mine to die,” I stated sarcastically. “Gotcha.”
“Camdyn, that’s not what I was trying to say,” Sara retorted. Rachel shifted nervously beside me, and I released her arm a bit.
“But it’s true, isn’t it? It sounds coarse, but that’s what you’re saying. Nothing happens outside of God’s will, so God chose to give you a baby to keep, and to give me a baby that would die.”
“Oh, Camdyn,” Rachel sighed.
“I’m sorry, Camdyn,” Sara added. “I’ll be praying for you.”
“Good idea,” I blurted. “That’s done wonders for me to this point.”
“I think I’ll just wait outside, Rachel.” Sara stood from the couch and stepped toward the door. “Things will be okay, Camdyn, in time.”
Whatever.
As soon as the door closed behind Sara, Rachel turned to me with teary eyes. “She means well, Camdyn. She’s not trying to hurt your feelings.”
“I know,” I acquiesced, running my fingers through my hair nervously. “I just don’t want to hear any rationalizations about it right now, you know? It hurts, and I’m living in it, and I don’t want to think about some higher purpose or plan for my life
or any of that. That doesn’t make it stink any less, does it?”
“No,” she whispered, leaning in to give me a hug. “I’m sorry. Please call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Yeah, I will,” I promised her, attempting to smile for her sake. The minute she closed the door behind her, I slid down to the hardwood floor and sobbed. I had reacted with sarcasm and indifference when Sara mentioned God, but her words hurt me far more than I let on. The truth is, I had been wondering them myself, and I couldn’t come up with an answer.
-§-
I’m unsure how long I remained in that position on the floor, but when a delivery truck came to bring me a huge bouquet from Jamie Price, my appearance at the door looking disheveled and tear-stained must have been absolutely terrifying.
Placing the vase on the table, I checked the clock to see how long I had before Cole came home from work. It was probably a bit ridiculous the way I tried to shield him from my honest emotions, but sharing my grief with him felt like burdening him unnecessarily with something he couldn’t fix. Plodding up the stairs, I determined to take a shower and at least look semi-presentable when he came through the door.
Sliding out of those pajama pants, I felt a tug across my abdomen as a cramp made its way over my stomach. With a split second of terror, I grabbed the door frame, holding on as my midsection tightened rock-hard, and then the pain subsided. Letting my breath out in a short burst, I wondered if I should call someone.
Trina’s labor had taken forever to progress to the end, and I knew from experience with her that contractions came on rather slowly and then increased until they were minutes apart. Believing I had plenty of time, I whisked my shirt off so I could take a quick shower and clean myself up. As I turned the knob on the faucet, the pain seized my midsection again, this time in a way that caused me to sit down on the side of the tub, afraid that I might collapse.
For No Reason (The Camdyn Series Book 4) Page 21
