A Precious Gift Read online

  Nevertheless, as she undressed she felt more and more exhausted. After she hung her clothes in the closet, she slid a nightgown over her head, crawled into bed and turned on the TV. Within minutes she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  At first sleep was comforting, warm, enveloping her in a soft blanket that seemed to float with visions of pine trees and split-rail fence. A large picture window flitted through her dreams with happy feelings and a sense of hope.

  However the blue and green and golden pictures diminished and eventually faded away. Although she was still wrapped in the blanket, she felt lost. A twisting of anxiety began in her womb and worked itself up through her chest.

  Darker pictures now swam around her—a city street at midnight. The smell of wet asphalt steamed by summer heat assaulted her senses. She didn’t know what was coming, but she knew it wasn’t going to be good. She tried to shout “No!” and maybe even did. Struggling against the blanket, she strove to break free. But it imprisoned her.

  Suddenly there was a man standing in front of her. He was wearing ugly green scrubs and he held a large scalpel. But his face… At first it was a doctor’s face, the doctor who had taken her baby away. Then the face changed. Instead of brown hair and a weak jaw and pale-blue eyes, the man was wearing a black ski mask. She knew what that meant. She knew who he was. He was wielding the scalpel, coming toward her.

  She couldn’t escape the blanket. Thrashing about, she punched it, scraped at it with her nails and yelled “No” so loud her head ached.

  “Carrie! Carrie!” A deep, strong voice called.

  When she felt an arm imprison her, she fought it, twisted, turned—

  A low oath cut through her unconsciousness. Her shoulder hurt as she battered against the restraint.

  “Carrie. It’s Brian. Wake up!”

  That determined voice. Wake up. Brian. It was Brian.

  When her eyes fluttered open, Brian’s face was close to hers and he was holding her tight.

  “Wake up, Carrie. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  Hurt herself. Hurt him. Hurt them both.

  Conscious of her surroundings, she saw Brian and she stilled. Her breaths were coming in hard, sharp gasps. Her hair was matted around her face and sweat beaded on her forehead. She was shaking, and her hands were as clammy as they’d been that night….

  At first she was still hazy and almost pushed Brian away, confusing him with the men who had hurt her. But then she realized who he was, who she was, where they were. The smothering fog that had wrapped her in its grip broke, and she took more deep, calming breaths.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay? It’s me. Look at me.”

  She couldn’t meet Brian’s eyes. She just couldn’t. She covered her face with her hands, felt the lump of tears in her throat, but knew she couldn’t cry. If she told Brian about everything, he’d hate her. She just knew it. They were starting to find their way again, and she didn’t want to lose everything she held dear.

  Although she wouldn’t look at her husband, his arm went around her. His warm body comforted her as a silence stretched between them like a long road they couldn’t travel.

  Finally he asked softly, “What was that all about?”

  Finding her voice, she managed, “It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I think I’m worried about Lisa and her baby. Our baby.”

  “Afraid she won’t give him up for adoption?”

  “I guess. I don’t know. You know how nightmares are. Sort of symbolic. Everything all mixed up together.”

  “The last time you had a nightmare it was after the surgery to try to unblock your tubes. Was it the same one?”

  Brian had remembered. That one had been similar, but not quite as terrifying. “I wasn’t concerned about Lisa and the baby then.”

  “No, you weren’t. But I imagine there’s some common denominator.”

  She shook her head, and her hair brushed against his bare shoulder. “You can’t explain dreams, Brian. They’re a slice of life thrown at you all at once. They usually don’t make sense.”

  “This wasn’t a dream, Carrie. It was a nightmare. Something bad was happening in it. Don’t you want to talk about it?”

  There it was—the opening. Her chance to lay everything at his feet. She’d be totally naked and vulnerable before him.

  Right now, when she was still trembling from the vividness of the nightmare, she couldn’t imagine doing that. “I don’t want to relive it,” she murmured.

  This time Brian didn’t give her the choice of looking at him. With his index finger, he nudged her face around to meet his gaze. Studying her, he must have seen the remnants of terror. He must have seen the raw emotion still swirling inside of her. He must have seen how very tired she was.

  Reaching to his side of the bed, he switched off the light. Then he slid down and stretched his arm out to her. “Come here. If I hold you, nothing bad will happen to you.”

  Curling into his body, she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder. She did feel protected by him, but she also had something to fear from him. Rejection.

  For now she’d concentrate on the comfort and try to get some sleep. In the morning she’d deal with the rest.

  Brian was up before Carrie the next morning. He showered and dressed and watched her as she slept. There was something going on with her, and he wanted to know what it was. Yet he couldn’t bully it out of her. She had to trust him enough to tell him, whether it was her concerns about adopting Lisa’s baby, some problem with her family or maybe a desire to go back to work. Whatever it was, it was reinforcing a barrier between them.

  Her accident had made her seem more vulnerable, and he supposed that was only natural. However, even in that vulnerability, she was fighting against him caring for her, doing things for her.

  Was she resentful because he hadn’t welcomed Lisa with open arms? Was she still concerned because at the beginning he hadn’t embraced adoption wholeheartedly?

  Only Carrie had the answers.

  Whatever was bothering her was stressing her out, as was evident in that nightmare last night. Maybe she was having post-traumatic stress from the accident. Another checkup with her doctor might be in order.

  When Brian went downstairs to the kitchen he found Lisa pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “I heard Craig leave about eleven,” he said.

  “That wasn’t after my curfew, was it?” Lisa gave him a sly smile.

  “No. At eighteen, curfews should be a thing of the past.”

  “Sometimes I feel that you treat me like a kid. But then other times you treat me like an adult.”

  “That’s probably because we’re watching over you. That makes me feel as if I have a stake in what you do.”

  After she drank some of the juice, she asked, “Do you think I’ll hear from the colleges soon?”

  “Probably in a few weeks. I read your essays. They were good—especially the one that explained how being homeless feels.” He’d been pleased to see Lisa wasn’t only a good writer, but she could express herself so facilely.

  When Lisa didn’t respond, he went over to the cupboard and took out a frying pan. “I was going to make Carrie some breakfast. Do you want to help?”

  “Sure. She’s made stuff for me plenty of times. I can scramble eggs.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll fry the bacon and toast the bread.”

  When Lisa crossed the room to the refrigerator, she suddenly doubled over.

  Brian was beside her in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sure. It was a cramp.” As she straightened, she must have felt it again because she twisted away from him and leaned on the counter.

  “What’s going on?” Carrie’s worried voice came from the doorway. She was dressed in a colorful sweater and black leggings, and looked rested, with only a faint hint of blue under her eyes.

  “I don’t know,” Brian replied. “She said she had a cramp.”

  Lisa gave a little squeal and Carrie was beside he
r. “I’m going to call your doctor.”

  “Do you think these are contractions?” Lisa asked.

  “It’s possible. Babies often come early. Let us help you into the family room, and I’ll call her.”

  Twenty minutes later, Brian was in the doctor’s waiting room, and Carrie was accompanying Lisa with the nurse to an examination room. He made a few calls to clear his schedule, not knowing what was going to happen next. Then he alternately worried, paced, tapped his foot and worried some more.

  It was an hour later when Lisa and Carrie emerged from the inner offices. Lisa looked upset. “It’s not happening now,” she said.

  Brian waited for an explanation.

  Carrie explained, “Pre-labor pains. Sometimes this happens. At least, that’s what the doctor said. The baby has dropped and could come any time, but just not right now.”

  “I’m supposed to go home and wait,” Lisa said dejectedly.

  Brian could see emotion was close to the surface in both women.

  “Let’s go home and I’ll make you both brunch.”

  At Carrie’s expression he asked, “You don’t think I can scramble a few eggs and fry some slices of bacon? I have hidden talents you know nothing about. I can even flip an egg so the yolk doesn’t break.”

  At that, Carrie smiled, but Lisa still looked distracted.

  The teenager was silent the whole way home. Although she sat and watched Brian prepare most of the breakfast as Carrie sliced fruit, she didn’t try to enter their conversations.

  After eating about half the food on her plate, she laid down her fork and looked at Carrie. “Do you think the doctor was being honest and these contractions are normal in pregnancy?”

  “I don’t think she would have said it if it wasn’t true.”

  Lisa looked down at her plate. “I’m worried.”

  “What about?” Brian gently asked.

  “When I found out I was pregnant and I came to Portland, I didn’t eat right. I didn’t take vitamins like the ones advertised in the doctor’s office. I didn’t have regular checkups. What if…what if something’s wrong? What if something happens to me and the baby’s born and we haven’t signed the papers?”

  To his amazement Brian found himself saying, “Carrie and I are committed to adopting this baby, Lisa. We want this child. No matter what, we’re going to take him.”

  “Even if there’s something wrong?”

  Suddenly, Lisa’s attitude worried Brian beyond measure. “You had a sonogram. The doctor has done blood work. There’s no indication that anything’s wrong. Is there something you’re not telling us? Did you take drugs when you were on the streets?”

  He heard a small gasp escape Carrie, but he kept his gaze on Lisa.

  A loud “No!” exploded from the teenager. “No, I never took drugs. Never. Well, I mean, a couple of years before I left Seattle I smoked some pot. But I haven’t used anything since I came to Portland. Since I’ve been pregnant. Honest. You’ve got to believe me.”

  At one time Brian might not have believed her. But he could hear sincerity in her voice now, and see no deception in her eyes, or defiance, or the rebellion that had emanated from her when she’d first moved in with them. “I believe you.”

  Carrie reached across the table and took Lisa’s hand. “I want you to try to stop worrying.”

  “I might stop worrying if you and Mr. Summers sign something, so that if something happens to me you’ll have the baby. Will you do that? Can you call a lawyer to make it happen?”

  As agitated as Lisa was, Brian wanted her to calm down. He also understood her concern. Labor and delivery was a frightening thing to her, and though it didn’t happen often now, women did die in childbirth.

  Glancing at Carrie, he said, “I can phone Trina Bentley or Stacy Williams. They might have a lawyer at Children’s Connection who can take care of this.”

  “Do you want me to do it?” Carrie asked. “I know you intended to go in to work today.”

  “I’ve cleared my schedule. This is more important.” When he saw his wife’s eyes grow moist, he hoped he was seeing tears of happiness because he’d finally realized where his priorities should be.

  That night, after Carrie said good-night to Lisa, she went upstairs to the nursery with a hammer and nails and a yardstick. She and Brian had done everything they could today to reassure Lisa that everything was going to be fine. They’d signed documents provided by the lawyer from Children’s Connection, and Lisa had gone with them to have the papers notarized. She’d seemed much calmer after that and told Carrie there had been no signs of any further contractions. Now she was watching TV before she turned in for the night.

  Carrie glanced around the nursery with a smile, beginning to believe she and Brian would have a baby in their arms soon. She’d already washed the socks and kimonos and playsuits she’d bought, as well as stacked diapers in a holder near the changing table. There were blankets and booties and pacifiers in the drawers, along with infant T-shirts and a tiny snowsuit. All she had to do now was put the finishing touches on the nursery.

  She wanted to find a special mobile for the crib. Maybe she could do that tomorrow in the car Brian had rented for her while hers was being repaired. Even if they were going to move, she wanted this room to be a haven for their baby, as pleasant, happy and colorful as it could be. The cream-colored walls were a perfect backdrop for the quilted and padded animals she now hung at intervals around the room—a baby tiger, a baby lamb, a donkey, a kitten, a pup and a seal. She’d also bought framed prints of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer and hung those, too.

  Hearing footsteps in the hall, she swung around and saw Brian. He was carrying a five-foot-tall stuffed giraffe and a few white bags under his arm.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, smiling.

  “I couldn’t resist. I bought a teddy bear, too. And one of those things you put in the crib for kids to play with. You know, with the mirrors and the music and the lights.”

  After he glanced around the room, he set the giraffe by the crib. “This looks nice. I could have helped.”

  “Pounding in a few nails wasn’t very strenuous.”

  Dropping the bags on the rocking chair, he crossed to her and gently rubbed her shoulder. “How do you feel?”

  “Better. Much better.”

  “Is your shoulder still sore?”

  “If I lift something too heavy.”

  “How about the headaches?”

  “I haven’t had any today. My hair might turn gray until Lisa has this baby, though. She scared me this morning.”

  “Scared you? I didn’t know what to do first, lay her on the floor or call an ambulance.”

  Carrie laughed. And it felt so good. Being with Brian like this felt so good. She wasn’t going to mess it up. She wasn’t going to do anything to mar this new life they were planning.

  As he looked down at her, Brian’s brown eyes became darker, and his expression became more intense. “You know what I’d like to do right now?” he asked huskily.

  “What?”

  “Carry you into our bedroom and make love to you.”

  Carrie inhaled Brian’s scent. She let her gaze pass over his strong jaw, his straight nose, his high cheekbones, every feature of the man she loved. Sex wasn’t the answer to the problems in a marriage. It wasn’t the remedy that could take the place of talking. But it was a powerful force, a bond, a tie, a glue.

  “I’d like that,” she said clearly, so he would know without a doubt that her intentions were the same as his.

  When he broke into a broad smile, wonderful sparks lit his eyes. Tonight would be special.

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to their bed.

  Nothing else mattered tonight…absolutely nothing else but her and Brian.

  Twelve

  Awakening, Carrie sat up in bed.

  “Carrie. Carrie!”

  Brian was sitting up now, too, as Carrie turned to speak into the intercom. “Lisa? Wha
t’s wrong?”

  “My water broke. The contractions have started again.”

  “Better get dressed,” Brian warned. “This could be it.”

  Hurrying from the bed, Carrie went to the dresser and pulled out a clean bra and panties. “I hope she doesn’t have a long labor. I hope it goes easy for her.”

  Coming up behind her, Brian encircled her with his arms. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be with her. And we’re going to be parents, Mrs. Summers.”

  Before they’d fallen asleep, Brian had made tender love to her. “Yes, we are,” she agreed breathlessly as he gave her a tight squeeze and a kiss that told her he was remembering last night as well as looking forward to their future.

  A few minutes later they were dressed and rushing down the stairs. When they reached Lisa’s room, she was on her bed, looking scared. “We have to change the sheets. We have to…”

  By her side, Carrie squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry about the sheets. How long between contractions?”

  “About five minutes. They started around midnight, but I thought I was just having false labor pains again. I didn’t want to call you.”

  A contraction gripped Lisa, and she took hold of the sheet, squeezing it in her hands. “I don’t think I can do this,” she cried when it was over.

  “Yes, you can. Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital,” Brian suggested.

  “Can you get Lisa’s bag?” Carrie asked her husband. “It’s right inside the closet. I’ll help her into another nightgown and robe. Then we’ll go.”

  Ten minutes later, Brian drove to the hospital while Carrie sat in the back with Lisa and called her doctor.

  “She’ll meet us there.” Carrie clicked off the phone and slipped it into her coat pocket.

  “What if the baby wants to come out before Dr. Grieb gets there?” Lisa wailed.

  “I’m sure there’s a doctor who covers for her. You’ll be in good hands, honey. Believe me.”