Probably as much as they brought on themselves. After all, everything bad that had happened to her was her own fault.
Her parents’ death. Her pregnancy. Even the way the kids at school treated her.
The thought of that rat falling out of her locker made her shudder. Not because it was a dead rat, which was pretty gross,
and not even because it was dyed yellow with blue veins—that was so you could see the venous system when you dissected it.
The thing about the formaldehyde-soaked rodent that had totally creeped her out had been the tag on its foot: “Gracie’s baby.”
As if she had a dead, limp, yellow-and-blue rat inside her. It was like coming face-to-face with her worst fear. The guy who’d
knocked her up had been a rat of the first order. Maybe her baby was going to be a rat, too.
The thought made her sick. She didn’t want anything to do with that creep, and yet here she was, having his baby. Last night
she’d had another nightmare about him. She’d dreamed she was wearing a puffy pink dress, kinda like the princess costume she
used to dress up in when she was little, and she was in a car going to a prom or something. She couldn’t see the face of her
date, but she was all happy and excited. And then he turned toward her and it was him, only his face was really a mask. And
she’d gotten really scared and closed her eyes, because she just knew he was so horrible she would die if she really saw him,
and then all of a sudden they were out of the car and he was pinning her down and she couldn’t breathe, and she woke up feeling
like her heart was going to pound out of her chest.
For the trillionth time, she wondered what her mom would say if she knew she was pregnant. Her mother would have been so disappointed
that it would have killed her if she weren’t already dead.
Another tear flashed down her face. Why was she such a jerk? Her dad had once told her that she charged at life as if it were
an enemy. Why did she do that? She didn’t know. Something was wrong with her. Something about her just didn’t fit in with
the rest of the world.
She tried to pretend she didn’t care, but she did. She cared so much it hurt. The truth was, she cared so much that she preemptively
treated people with disdain, so it wouldn’t hurt when they rejected her.
Could she really love this baby, when she couldn’t even love herself? Was she going to think about Kirk or Kirt or whoever
he was every time she looked at it? The bigger her belly grew, the more scared she got.
She was a total fake. She pretended she had it all together, but she didn’t know what the hell she was doing most of the time.
If she couldn’t manage her own life, how the hell could she manage someone else’s? Her baby was going to be even more screwed
up than she was. She had no business procreating her own wretched existence. She wished the baby would just go away.
She resumed her march along the deserted lake trail. The trees and bushes had thinned out as she neared the lake, then gave
way to a mowed stretch that ran beside the road. The sun crept out from behind the clouds, and although it was October, the
sun beat down like a blowtorch. Jeez, did it ever cool off in Louisiana, or was it always hot? She sat down on the grass and
pulled up her leg, then noticed some blood on the thigh of her jeans. That stupid thorn had really made her bleed. She glanced
at her wrist, and saw that the cut was just a thin red line.
The blood wasn’t coming from her wrist. It was coming from…
Holy crap! She was bleeding. Bad. Was she losing the baby? She didn’t feel any cramps or anything. Still, this was a lot of
blood.
The breath froze in her throat, as if it couldn’t go in or out, and her chest ached. Oh, God—it was all those bad thoughts.
That book
The Secret
that Annette had loaned her said that people made things materialize by thinking about them. Had she killed the baby by wishing
she wasn’t pregnant?
“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. Her heart pounded like a tom-tom. She stood up, then felt a sticky warmth between her legs.
She sat back down, panic making her breath come in fast spurts.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
She reached in her purse, pulled out her phone, and hit Katie’s speed-dial button.
“Help,” she said as soon as Katie answered. “I think I’m losing the baby.”
Katie stroked Gracie’s hair as Dr. Greene ran an ultrasound over the girl’s stomach thirty minutes later at the hospital.
Katie was quaking inside, but she tried hard to project a sense of calm for her daughter’s sake.
“It’s what we hoped wouldn’t happen,” Dr. Greene told Gracie. “Your placenta has grown over your cervix.”
Worry coiled through Katie’s body.
Gracie raised her head. Her eyes were swollen from crying. “Is the baby okay?”
“Looks fine.” The doctor pointed to the screen. “There she is. And her heartbeat sounds good and strong.”
“Oh, thank God.” Gracie lay back and stared at the screen.
The tightness in Katie’s chest loosened a bit.
“That’s the good news. The bad news is, you are now on complete bedrest.”
“For how long?” Gracie asked.
“The rest of your pregnancy.”
“No way. That’s more than a month!”
“There’s no other option.”
“So this is serious?” Katie’s brow pulled together.
“I’m afraid it is. Gravity is the enemy—especially as we get closer to her due date, and the cervix softens and thins. And
she’s definitely going to need to be delivered by C-section.”
The doctor turned off the ultrasound machine. “I want to keep you at the hospital until the bleeding stops. If it doesn’t
stop or you have any further bleeding once you get home, you’ll have to stay here until you deliver.”
Gracie grabbed the doctor’s sleeve as Dr. Greene rose from her seat by the side of the exam table. She stopped and turned.
Gracie peered up at her with anxious eyes. “Did I do something to cause this?”
“No, Gracie. It’s just something that happened.”
“Are you sure? It’s not because I got upset or walked too fast or too far or got too hot or… or…” Her voice shook, and her
eyes filled with tears. “Or thought bad thoughts?”
The doctor patted her hand. “No. Placenta previa is just one of those things. There’s absolutely nothing you could have done
to cause it or prevent it.”
Gracie swallowed and nodded. Katie didn’t think she looked entirely convinced.
“There is one more thing,” Dr. Greene said. “There’s a very strong chance we’re going to need to deliver you early.”
“How early?”
“Well, it depends on how things go. We don’t want your placenta to detach, so we’re going to monitor you very closely to make
sure that doesn’t happen. And I’m going to start you on a medication to help your baby’s lungs mature early.” The doctor patted
her hand again and went out the door.
Gracie closed her eyes. Tears fell from the corners.
“Are you okay?” Katie asked.
“Yeah. I just…” The girl turned her head away.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“Why do I always hurt people I love?”
“The doctor said this wasn’t your fault.”
“I heard her. But they said that about my parents’ death, too, and it’s not the truth.”
Katie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, sweetie?”
Gracie made a gulping sound. “The night my parents had that wreck… I’d sneaked out of the house to go to a party.” Gracie
flung an arm over her face, hiding her eyes. A sob eked out from under it. “They were out looking for me when their car crashed.”
“Oh, Gracie.” In addition to grieving her parents, Gracie was drowning in guilt for their deaths. She must have been smothering
under the weight of it all. Combined with the rape and the pregnancy, the poor girl was carrying an almost unimaginable burden.
Katie leaned down and folded Gracie into her arms. She felt Gracie’s pain like a physical thing wedged in her chest. She wished
she could take all the girl’s hurts and bear them for her. “That doesn’t make it your fault. It was a terrible accident, that’s
all. It’s no one’s fault.”
“But if I hadn’t sneaked out, they wouldn’t have been in the car, and they wouldn’t be dead.”
Katie searched her heart for a way to comfort the girl. “You wouldn’t have gone if you’d known what was going to happen. So
many things are just beyond our control, Gracie.”
“But it’s my fault, because I didn’t do the right thing.”
“No one does the right thing all the time. All we can do is ask for forgiveness, let it go, and make better choices in the
future.” Katie stroked the girl’s arm. “Do you think your parents would want you feeling miserable for the rest of your life?”
“No.”
“What kind of life would they want for you and your baby?”
“A good one. A happy one.”
“Well, then, honor their memory by trying to live like that.”
Gracie drew a sob-wrenched breath. Katie found a tissue on the exam room counter and handed her one.
An orderly and a nurse came through the door, pushing a gurney. “We’re going to take you to a room now, Gracie.”
“Okay.” Gracie reached for Katie’s hand. “Will you come, too?”
Katie squeezed the girl’s fingers, her eyes nearly as full as her heart. She blinked back her tears and smiled. “Absolutely.”
Five hours later, Zack strode down the hall toward Gracie’s room, only to nearly collide with Katie.
“Zack!” Her eyes flew open wide, then rapidly narrowed. “What are you doing here?”
“I caught a plane right after you called and told me what happened at school. I got your message that Gracie was at the hospital
when I landed.” He peered into her face. She looked exhausted and depleted, and her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying.
“What’s going on?”
As they walked to a bench at the end of the hall, Katie filled him in.
Zack leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling like he’d eaten a batch of bad oysters. Holy crap—that
poor kid! He opened his eyes. “I want to see her.”
“She just fell asleep. That’s why I left her room.”
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
Katie rose from the bench. “Well, then, I’ll give you some space.”
The words cut into him like barbed wire. “Kate…”
She started to walk away. He grabbed her arm.
She turned and looked at him, her eyes guarded and wary, and then, there it was again—that miserable, sick, needy feeling,
the same feeling he’d gotten in his gut when he’d seen Katie wearing her late husband’s clothes. It wasn’t like him to feel
this way. He didn’t want to feel this pathetic longing and yearning, like a friggin’ homeless person gazing into a warm house.
He liked his life separate and simple and clean and straightforward. No attachments, no obligations, no strings.
Except… all of a sudden, there were strings everywhere. Heartstrings, tying him to Gracie and Katie. He couldn’t explain it
and he didn’t understand it, but he needed to be with them, needed to take care of them, needed them to need him.
He didn’t know when or how it had happened. One minute he’d thought everything was normal, and the next, he was in alien territory.
How the hell was he supposed to navigate? He didn’t have a GPS or a map or a compass or even a friggin’ clue.
No clue at all. Hell. He’d been miserable ever since he’d left. He’d tried to focus on work, but his mind kept wandering back
to Katie. He started to call her a dozen times each day, then each time, he changed his mind. What good would it do? What
was he going to say? He wasn’t going to make a lot of promises he didn’t know if he could keep or pin labels on emotions he
didn’t understand.
Still, he owed her some kind of explanation. Or did he? She’d probably be better off just thinking he was a total ass. Which
he was, where she was concerned. He should just leave her alone.
But something about her wouldn’t let him do that.
“Kate—I missed you.”
“Not enough to pick up the phone, apparently.”
“I didn’t know what to say.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I still don’t.”
“Well, then, I guess that says it all.”
She started to walk away again. He fell in step beside her. “Where were you going?”
“To the house. I need to pick up my toothbrush and a few things. There’s a recliner in Gracie’s room I can sleep in.”
“I’ll stay, too.”
“No need. Besides, there’s nowhere for you to sleep.”
Was she saying he’d just be in the way? His chin jutted out. “I’ll just stay out here, in the hall. I’m not going to leave
you two at a time like this.”
To his relief, she didn’t mount any further protest.
“I’ll run get what you need. Just make me a list.”
“I can probably name them on one hand.” She lifted her hand and counted them off on her fingers. “Toothbrush, toothpaste,
face soap, hairbrushes, the Game Boy, and the iPod.”
He grinned. “That covers Gracie. How about you?”
“I don’t really need anything aside from my toothbrush.”
What about me? Do you need me?
Jeez, when had he turned into such a basket case? It wasn’t like him to think crap like this.
What was happening to him? It was as if an alien had taken over his body. He’d always been independent, self-sufficient, detached,
and aloof. He was a lone wolf, and he liked it that way.