by Nia Arthurs
“Of course.”
Thomas’s constant reminders to treat Zora right are a little grating, but I get where he’s coming from. Despite how strong she appears to be, Zora’s especially fragile now.
I shut the door and join Zora. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She holds her hand up to shade her face from the scorching sun. Zora clears her throat. “It’s just… I don’t think I’m ready to go home.”
“It’s fine.” I rush to assure her.
She offers a small smile. “You do need to buy a car, right? You’re not going to spend a ton of money just to distract me.”
“Would you like me more if I gave you that impression?”
She chuckles. It’s still tinged with sadness but it’s a step in the right direction.
I take her hand. “I really need a vehicle and I really was waiting for you. So what do you say? Will you help me?”
“I would love to.”
We walk inside and a salesman lumbers over to us. He takes one look at me and than at Zora before his eyes fall to our clasped hands. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes, but he doesn’t voice his thoughts and simply smiles.
“Hi, how can I help you today?”
I give him the stats I’m looking for and he leads us to the SUVs in the shop. Zora lags behind and I shorten my steps to keep up with her. The salesman notices and waits for us to catch up.
He observes us curiously again. “You two make a beautiful couple.”
Zora glances away so I answer for the both of us, “Thank you.”
“Do you know the sex of your child?” He gestures to Zora’s stomach.
I stiffen.
Zora raises her chin and snaps, “Can we just look at the car?”
“Sure.” The guy winces. “Of course.” He sprints away like Zora just like a fire under his behind.
I lean over. “Zo, he didn’t know…”
“It’s none of his business,” she says briskly.
I decide not to argue with her. She’s still reeling from the hurt of losing our child and, even though the baby’s no longer in her stomach, the bump is still apparent. I just don’t want her to bite an innocent bystander’s head off because they asked a question.
“Okay.”
After that, the salesman seems ready to be rid of us and I don’t want to linger either. Zora remains stonily silent and isn’t much help picking a model, so I just go with the one I think we’ll both like and drive out of the lot.
I take a deep whiff of the new car smell as we head down the highway with no destination in mind. A glance at Zora reveals her face turned to the window.
“Zo?”
“Mm?”
“You hungry?”
“No.”
“Tired?”
“No.”
I slow for the stop sign. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know.”
I flick the indicator and drive into a small lane where I pull over on the side of the road. When the car stops, Zora looks at me. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not going to force you to talk to me,” I say gently. “But I am going to force you to eat. Pick a place or I’ll do it for you.”
She narrows her eyes and I brace myself for a tongue-lashing but Zora just leans her head back and closes her eyes. “I want tacos.”
I blow out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Great.”
Thirty minutes later, Zora is stuffed and napping in the passenger seat. I drive to our building and slide her out of the car, carrying her in my arms to my apartment.
Hopefully, Zora just has a problem with her place and not the entire building.
After I’ve settled her into my bed, I stand back and watch her sleep. The curtains are drawn to keep the room as dark as possible, but the sunlight is too strong to be restrained and it tiptoes past the heavy material to light up the room.
I study the side of Zora’s face—the curve of her cheek, her hair, the lips slightly pursed. She’s so precious to me, but I feel helpless. Lost. She has to deal with the trauma of being kidnapped and losing the baby. How do I make it easier for her?
My phone rings before I can find a solution. I dash out of the room before the noise can wake Zora and slip the cell to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Wilson Theodore Barton, what is this about you getting someone pregnant?”
I pull the phone back and stare at the screen.
Mom.
I set it back to my ear. “Hey, ma.”
“Is that all you can say to me? Why did I have to hear about my future grandchild from Violet of all people?”
“Violet told you?”
“I’m the one asking questions here.”
I gulp. My mother has always been a force to be reckoned with, which is why I had a habit of keeping my less-than-flattering exploits out of her orbit.
“It… wasn’t planned. It was an accident.”
“You mean you accidentally slipped and fell on her, naked I might add, to accidentally produce a child?”
“No, mom. That’s not—”
“Or was she the one who accidentally slipped.”
“Mom!” I glance behind me to make sure Zora isn’t there and lower my voice, “it was a shock at first, but eventually we accepted it. We—I was very excited about the pregnancy.”
“I can’t believe this. Violet made it seem like you were playing her and the other woman at the same time. I’m very disappointed, Wilson. That’s not the way I raised you.”
“Why would Violet…?” I rub the bridge of my nose. “Mom, it doesn’t matter. There’s something else.”
“What more could you possibly say that could shock me—”
“Zora lost the baby.”
The other end of the line goes silent.
“Mom?”
“Oh no. Is she okay?”
The tenderness and concern in her voice throws me for a loop. “Uh, yeah. She’s trying to be strong, but I can tell that she’s struggling.”
“Poor thing. It’s always hard to lose a child.”
“Why do you sound like you’re talking from experience?”
“Because I am.” Mom sighs. “I always wanted a houseful of children. I was an only child and I hated it. When I married your father, I wanted to get pregnant right away, but it was hard. I grew so discouraged. People who didn’t want kids were just popping them out left and right, but I couldn’t even conceive.”
“Mom, I had no idea.”
“Yes, well, it was horrible. For me and your father. I hated myself. Thought something was wrong with me. Then I got pregnant and we got so excited. I had the rooms picked out and was furniture shopping… but I lost the baby.”
She goes silent.
“Mom?”
I hear her sniff. “I’m sorry, Wilson. I’m surprised by how much it still hurts. I had a miscarriage. It was a girl. We named her Grace.”
“What did Dad do for you after? To help?”
“I was so wrapped up in my own grief that every time he extended a hand, I bit it. Thing is… he never stopped supporting me, quietly and patiently.”
“It doesn’t sound like enough. I want to do more.”
“You can do all kinds of things, but until Zora’s heart heals, she won’t be able to appreciate it. The best way to help her is to support her. Be understanding, and let her hurt if she wants.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She chuckles sheepishly. “Look at me. When I dialed your number I was ready to tear you apart, but now I’m a sniveling mess.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you a long time ago.”
“Just don’t let it happen again.” She pauses. “Can I ask you a question?”
I smirk. Since when has my mom ever asked permission to interrogate me? “Of course.”
“Are you helping Zora out of obligation? Because she’s the mother of your child or is there more?”
“I love her.”
> “I see. That explains Violet’s behavior when she came to see me. She was very upset.”
“So I gathered.”
“Well, I’m glad.”
“You are?” I frown. “I thought you loved Violet.”
“Yes, but not for you. I saw the way she treated you, and it bothered me, but if anyone so much as looked at Violet wrong you were quick to defend her. I knew there was no getting through to you.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Was I that bad?”
“You’re like me. We only love one way—fiercely. It’s my fault for passing on those cursed genes.” She chuckles. “When Zora’s feeling up to it, let me know. I’ll come down and visit.”
“She’d love that. So would I.”
Mom hangs up and I slip the phone into my pocket. My mother’s understanding means a lot to me. It’s, honestly, more than I expected.
But if anything, losing our baby has taught me to be grateful for the little things. At least I still have Zora. Now I just have to find Keanu and throw him into jail. Then everything will be perfect.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zora
“What do you mean you can’t find Keanu?” Wilson roars. “Do you understand how dangerous that man is?”
“Yes, we do, Mr. Barton,” the stocky officer that took my statement in the hospital says. I now know his name—PD Grinage.
“Then why did you let him get away?”
I put a hand on Wilson’s arm to calm him. He snaps his mouth shut, but he’s still simmering. I glance at the officers. “Do you have any idea where he might have run to?”
“We think he crossed the border into Mexico illegally, but that’s only a guess. If he used legal channels to escape the country, his name would have come up in our system. At this point, all we can hope for is that he makes a mistake. The moment he returns to Belize, we’ll know.”
“Thank you so much for your hard work, Officers.” I rise and yank on Wilson’s arm so he does too. “Please keep us updated.”
“Of course.”
When we get outside, Wilson frowns at me. “Why were you so calm? They can’t even do their jobs right!”
“Sh! You’re embarrassing me.”
That gets through to him and he quiets down. He opens my door for me and rounds the hood to get in on the other side. The moment he slides into the driver’s seat, Wilson turns to me.
I study his stormy expression. “What?”
“How do you feel about a personal bodyguard?”
“Will, no.”
“How about one of those ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’ buttons? You know the ones for senior citizens?”
“No.”
“We can move to the States. You can work in the office next to mine.”
“Will, I’m a nurse. I belong in a hospital.”
He pouts. “Then what do you expect me to do? Just stay here and wait for Keanu to strike again?”
“He’s not coming back. Keanu’s extremely selfish, which means he won’t put himself in a position where he can get hurt. Trust me, he’ll stay as far away from me and Belize as possible.”
“Fine.” Wilson starts the car and then glances at me. “A human-sized hamster wheel?”
“Wilson!”
“Alright, I’ll stop.” He drives toward the hospital. “Are you sure you should be going back to work so soon? You were only discharged a few days ago.”
“I’m fine. I don’t want to use up my sick days like this.”
“You don’t have to work, you know. I can take care of you. That way, you can volunteer at the hospital when you want to instead of worrying about using your sick days.”
My chest warms. I know Wilson really means that. “Honey, that’s so sweet, but my mother taught me not to rely on any man unless he’s my husband and even then, I need a way to provide for myself in case it doesn’t work out.”
“That’s an easy problem to solve. Marry me. I promise I’ll love you forever.”
I snort. “I already told you yes. Why do you keep asking?”
“Because you keep putting me off. I’m too impatient. I can’t wait two years.”
“That’s too bad.”
Wilson narrows his eyes. “I’ll wear you down eventually.”
“You can try.”
He parks right in front of the hospital and leans over. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“And if you feel overwhelmed or tired, take a break. Don’t worry about your job. You have a rich boyfriend.”
I laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy in love.”
I roll my eyes but lean over and reward him with a kiss because cheesy talk like that always melts me. “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I have a twelve-hour shift, remember?”
He scowls, but doesn’t ask me to quit. Which is an improvement. I’ve realized that Wilson is a very convincing salesman when he wants something, and for a second I was wooed.
“See yah.” I wave and trot inside before he can distract me any further.
The moment I enter my ward, I notice a shift in the air. Doctors that I work with every day and that generally leave me alone unless we’re helping a patient together stop and greet me. The nursing interns shoot me timid, pitiful looks.
Pain and loss are a part of our existence. We’re in the thick of it when a patient’s life is at risk, when it eventually leaves this world to go on to the other. We’re right there. So it’s not like the concept of death is unfamiliar.
But I lost a child. And, thanks to Will’s well-intentioned idea of bringing the entire nursing staff and security team in on our little problem with Keanu, everyone knows that I had and lost a baby.
It’s excruciating.
I try to keep my head up and ignore the attention, but after a nurse I’ve never seen before from a completely different ward approaches me to offer her condolences, I make a run for the bathroom to get away from it all.
The door falls shut as I stumble inside the brightly lit room and stop at the sink. My fingers dig into the counter and I hold on for dear life, breathing intently through my nose.
I thought I could do this. Thought I could come to work and pretend that last week never happened. Guess I was wrong.
A toilet flushes in one of the stalls and Gretchen appears. We notice each other at the same time. I freeze, while Gretchen approaches slowly.
“Hey,” she says. “You’re back.”
“I am.”
She stops at the sink and washes her hands. Using a tone of forced composure she says, “How are you?”
“Good.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
The water rushes into the bowl, filling the room with a hissing sound. I pretend to fluff my short ponytail and wash my hands too. Gretchen shuts her faucet off and I follow. Silence reigns for a second.
Suddenly, she spins and kicks a bathroom stall open. The thud of her pristine white tennis shoes smashing against the door echoes in the room. I jump, watching fearfully as Gretchen goes down the row of bathroom stalls and kicks them open one by one.
When she’s certain no one is here, Gretchen turns and locks eyes with me.
I step back. “You okay?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” she croaks. Next thing I know, Gretchen flies across the room and wraps me up in a big hug. “I’m so sorry, Zora.”
My first instinct is to push her off. I raise my hand to do just that when a thought hits me.
She’s being sincere.
I freeze. This isn’t Gretchen trying to make a scene so she looks like the better person in front of our superiors. This isn’t Gretchen trying to kiss up to me so we can be friends.
She is genuinely sorry for me and unable to think of a less dramatic way to express that.
I end up patting her back as she sniffs into my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“My heart goes out to you and Wi
lson.” She pulls back and I notice the mascara running down her cheeks. Gosh, I hope she didn’t stain my scrubs.
“I appreciate that. Really.”
“If there’s anything I can do…”
“I’ll let you know.”
Gretchen wipes her tears with the flat of her thumb and then offers me a rather messy thumbs-up. “You’re awesome, Zora. Just awesome.”
I watch her walk out with a soft chuckle. I’ve always judged Gretchen for being a flirt and an airhead, but she’s not so bad.
Her comfort is the turning point in a rather draining shift. People still look at me like I’m a bug under a microscope, but it doesn’t feel as grating or annoying. I realize that my defenses don’t have to be up all the time.
It’s okay to just nod, smile and move on every once in a while.
My shift finishes at two in the morning, but I decide not to sleep in the break room like I originally intended. I’m exhausted, even more tired than I was when Little Bean…
No, I won’t think about that.
I catch a ride with one of the nurses and head to my apartment. As soon as I get in, I grab my phone to text Wilson, but I end up falling asleep mid-text and it never gets sent.
A sudden knock on the door wakes me the next morning. My eyes burst open and I notice sunlight bouncing into the room. A yawn cracks my jaw. The insistent thuds on the door thunder through my head and give me a raging headache.
I roll out of the sofa where I drifted off last night and brush through my hair with my fingers. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Expecting to see Wilson when I open the door, I jump back in surprise when I recognize Violet.
“Hello, Zora.”
My voice is shrill. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I step back, the sleep clearing from my eyes. I’m confused, but I’m also a little concerned. What would Violet and I possibly have to talk about?
“Wilson’s across the way.” I point to the door. I have no idea why I’m sending my enemy, at least my enemy in love, over to my boyfriend.
Am I insane or is my brain still slow from lack of sleep?
As I stand there staring at Violet, however, I realize it’s none of the above. I just… don’t care.
