Indeed she did. Seemingly within a matter of seconds, the room began to tilt and images loomed largely close and then receded to the size they are when one looks into the wrong end of binoculars.
No discomfort. Dilate. The products of conception. Vacuum. Vacuum. Kathleen tried to move her hand protectively over her abdomen, but wasn’t sure she made it.
Not the products of conception. A person. A baby. Hers. Erik’s.
Erik. Erik. Erik, where are you? I loved you! I still love you. And they’re going to kill our baby. Why aren’t you here to protect me?
Why aren’t you here to see your son born? Your baby. But there will be no baby. A vacuum.
The nurse leaned over and said something to Kathleen, but she couldn’t hear her. She saw the ceiling moving again, and then she was in another room and the lights were extremely bright. Someone was draping her knees over the high stirrups at the end of the table. Her legs were so heavy. She flinched against the cold bath someone was giving her genitalia.
Dilate. No baby. Erik’s baby. She loved him. Would it be so wrong to want the results of that love? She could live with his deceit if only she could have something of value from their time together, something that would make the pain of loss more bearable. What could be a better testimony to the love she had borne the man than to have his baby? A baby would love her back.
A blond baby. A boy. She knew it was a boy. Blue eyes. Erik’s eyes. Erik’s baby.
Some disembodied voice was crooning to her and covering her nose and mouth with a mask. She couldn’t breathe. She refused to. She heard someone screaming over and over and realized it was she. “No!” She fought the restraining hands. “No, don’t touch me.”
“Dr. Peters,” an alarmed female voice said from beside Kathleen.
“Leave me alone. I love him. I want the baby. I’m not asleep. I’m not delirious. I’m awake and I want my baby.” Her panicked voice sounded maniacal to her own ears, but she had to convince them. In desperation, she repeated the words with all the force and conviction she could muster.
“Ms. Haley.”
She knew that voice and turned her thrashing head toward it. “Dr. Peters,” she gasped. How could she make them understand? They mustn’t take the baby. She tried to pull her knees together, but something kept them wide apart. “The baby, don’t hurt it. My baby. Erik’s. I love him. It’s a boy. I know it is. I want my baby. Erik… Erik…”
The dark oblivion that Kathleen had craved she now anathematized. Nonetheless, it blanketed her, black and absolute.
Chapter Eleven
Kathleen studied Seth as he tried to assimilate what she had just said to him. His features were devoid of expression, as though he were stunned.
“I can’t believe that I heard you correctly,” he said at last.
Kathleen wore a forced mask of poise. Little did she know how huge her green eyes looked. Nor did she realize that the severity of her hairdo, peeled away from her pale face, emphasized the sharpness of her cheekbones. It was obvious to everyone but herself how rigidly she held her body, how tense she was.
“Yes. You heard me correctly. I have to resign. I will, of course, stay for two weeks while you look for a replacement.”
“Damn the replacement!” Seth slapped his palms on the polished surface of his desk. It was the closest he had ever come to showing a temper. Never had she heard him raise his voice to that level. She squirmed under the prodding of his deep eyes. “Why, Kathleen? For godsake, why? I thought you liked us, liked your job here.”
Unable to look at him any longer, she turned her head toward the large picture windows that framed the skyline of the city. “I do. But as I understand my job description, I’m to be the buyer and fashion coordinator for your store, soon to be stores. As such, I should look the part of a high-fashion-minded individual, keep pace with trends.”
His dark brows arched over his eyes in puzzlement. “So?”
She turned her gaze from the foggy scenery and looked at him directly. “That’s not so easy if you’re pregnant.”
Again that blank, unwavering stare, as if what she had said was so incomprehensible that he couldn’t grasp it. His eyes fluttered down to her flat midsection. Then back to her face. “You’re telling me that you’re pregnant?”
She squared her shoulders. “Yes.”
It was mid-October. Two weeks had gone by since Kathleen had awakened in the hospital’s recovery room, frantically demanding to know if she still carried Erik’s baby. Dr. Peters had been there to reassure her.
“I want to have this baby.”
“Am I to understand that you’re a single parent?”
She nodded.
“You’ll do fine.” He patted her hand and Kathleen was grateful for his encouragement.