Underwater (27 page)

Twenty-four hours after Dawn’s arrival at the hospital, she sat beside Helen’s hospital bed, trying to console her sister.

Both women were still in shock. Monty had come and gone last night, and Helen was relieved when he left. The person she needed most was here with her.

Dawn would help her with arrangements for the boys. They would have a private memorial service this week, and afterward Frank would travel back to Chicago. Dawn was going to stay for the next two weeks to help with Adele as Helen recovered.

Dawn heard Helen’s cell phone vibrate where it sat on the small counter by the sink. She glanced at it and looked back at her sister. “It’s Candace.”

“I’ll talk to her,” said Helen.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Would you grab it?”

Dawn did as requested and handed the phone to her sister.

“Candace?”

“Oh, Helen, I’m so very sorry.”

Helen felt tears forming again as her throat constricted. She took a second, then said, “Thank you.”

“Rob and I are coming down today. We’re canceling our trip.”

“No, Candace. Don’t do that. Really. It’s not necessary.”

“Helen—”

“You just got married yesterday. You’ve been planning this honeymoon trip, and I would much rather you go.”

“We can go anytime,” said Candace. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”

Helen glanced at Dawn as she responded. “I know. But it’s okay now. My sister and her husband are here—”

“Oh, good.”

“And she’s going to stay with me for two weeks.”

“What about—”

“We’re going to have a small, private service. It’s really not necessary that you come to it. I’d feel more comfortable with just my sister and her husband—and mine.”

“Helen, you’re in shock. You’ve got to be. You’ve been through this pregnancy, and now this—”

“Candace, it’s okay. I promise. Yes, I’m in shock, but I have Dawn here. I want you to go ahead and go on your trip. Give me time with my sister, and time to grieve. When you get back, we’ll talk then.”

“What about our conversation earlier?” asked Candace. “About everything you found out the other day? I’m still worried about you and Adele.”

“We’ll be fine. I can’t think about all that now. He knows that I know. That’s enough for the moment. We’re going to get through the next few days together, and then we’re going to heal. Trust me to handle this.”

“I feel so bad, leaving while you’re dealing with everything.”

“Don’t,” said Helen. “Go and enjoy. Let me have time to figure things out. I may even be going home tomorrow.”

“How do you feel? Physically?”

“Not all that bad, considering. I’m glad I didn’t have surgery after all. The doctor said that it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing could have been done.” Helen sucked in a breath.

“You’ll be in my prayers.”

“Thank you. And congratulations. How was the wedding?” Helen wiped a tear and looked back at Dawn.

“Wonderful. I had no idea what was happening to you, though. I wish someone had called.”

“Well, we couldn’t find Monty. I was going to call you today, after the boys were born.” Tears now began to fall freely. “Candace, I have to go. Thanks so much for calling.”

Helen handed Dawn the phone and shut her eyes, hoping to rest.

Late Monday afternoon, Helen was discharged from the hospital.

Dawn and Frank had picked up Adele the night before and taken her with them to the hotel. Helen had spent most of today alone—Monty didn’t arrive to pick her up until she called, when she received her discharge papers. They had barely spoken on the way home.

Helen was glad they hadn’t. She needed more time to think, though she’d been doing a lot of that already. She’d gotten over the shock of losing the boys, and now all she felt was a deep sadness.

She hadn’t told anyone about Monty’s assault on her Friday night, or even that they’d had a fight. It wouldn’t have changed anything if she had. Once her water broke, the course of events had been set. Who knew if the babies had died because of what happened? What would talking about it accomplish? Nothing could bring her babies back, and now she had to go on with life.

When they got home, she’d told him to go over to the condo—or wherever else he wanted to go—and to leave her alone for the night. She wasn’t ready to be in the same house with him yet. They had a lot of talking to do and things to figure out, but she was too tired right now. All she wanted to do was rest, relax, and get clean. She had showered this morning at the hospital, but she planned to take a long hot bath this evening before she went to bed.

Candace had called again and talked to Dawn, then reluctantly agreed to go on with her travel plans. She was probably in Fiji right now, staying in an exclusive luxury resort with her new husband. Helen was relieved that she had gone. The last thing she needed was Candace in Atlanta, entering the picture as Helen tried to get through the memorial while recovering from the births—deaths—of her babies.

No episiotomy had been necessary, just like with Adele. Helen had delivered both twins even faster than she had her daughter, who came in record time after a short, easy labor. But Helen’s bottom was sore and she was having strong cramps as her uterus contracted. Dr. Russell had given her medication to prevent her milk from coming in, thank goodness. At least her back didn’t hurt anymore. The twins had weighed just over five pounds each, and the burden of carrying them was gone. But that physical feeling of relief was bitter, and quite opposite to the joy she had anticipated of holding two babies in her arms.

She poured a glass of water, drank half of it, and placed it on her nightstand. Then she changed into a loose gown and stretched out on the queen-sized bed. Thank God Dawn was here to help her. Together they would figure out what to do for the service. Dawn’s presence in the coming days would be a huge source of comfort at a time when Helen needed her the most.

Five minutes later, she succumbed to a deep sleep.

Monty pulled up in front of the dry cleaners and parked.

He needed to get his iPhone back. When he stopped here on Saturday afternoon to make them find it, they wouldn’t even look without his dry cleaning ticket. Annoyed, he had argued and cussed until they threatened to call the cops. Then he accused them of stealing it and left in a huff. Late that night he found the ticket in Helen’s car and decided to come back today and apologize.

Ticket in hand, he got out of the car and walked up to the door. It was locked.
Damn!
He looked to the right and saw the Closed sign. What place of business, besides a bank, was closed on Columbus Day? It wasn’t even a real holiday, like Thanksgiving or Christmas. He muttered under his breath and turned around. He’d have to wait one more day for the phone, and if they didn’t give it to him then, he’d report it as a theft.

He opened the car door, slipped behind the wheel, and put the key in the ignition. He reached over to the glove box, where he would stash the cleaner’s ticket until tomorrow. He flipped the box open and noticed a card on top of his car owner’s manual. It was the card he had saved, the last birthday card from his mother. The card he had found in the rubble back in April after the tree fell on the cottage.

He grabbed it and opened it, rereading his mother’s handwritten prophecy about his future. But this time, her words didn’t evoke sadness or sorrow. No, he felt betrayed. His heart was full of disappointment, bitterness, and hatred.

Susannah hadn’t been there for him as she promised she would be. No one was there for him, and no one cared about him. He ripped the card in half, tore the halves into small pieces, and let the pieces fall to the floor.

He felt a profound sense of loneliness, a feeling of being forgotten and written off. He was supposed to have been the father of twin sons, but they had been taken away from him, dying before they could even live. He would never know them. He couldn’t share his feelings of grief and loneliness with Rachel. His own sister disdained him and had abandoned him. For the first time, he believed she wouldn’t cave in and give him what he wanted. She was too wrapped up in her own life to care about his.

His wife had trained his daughter not to care about him, either. Adele picked up on her mother’s attitude and parroted her words of disrespect. And it was Helen who was responsible for the boys’ deaths. If she hadn’t spied on him and provoked him, he wouldn’t have gotten angry at her. Now he was trapped with her and with a child who didn’t love him, and he had no way to get the things that he deserved.

His life was a mess because of Helen, and she would have to pay.

Helen woke almost three hours later.

She still wasn’t hungry, but she felt dirty and very sore. The doctor had said she could take a soaking bath, and that was exactly what she wanted to do. She brushed her teeth first, then turned on the tap.

She walked back to the kitchen and looked at the clock. It was after nine o’clock. She decided to get her notebook, look over what she had written on Friday night, and write a letter to Monty. She wasn’t sure if she would give it to him; she’d probably tear it up. But she needed to express her thoughts and feelings on paper and to map out the conditions under which she would stay with him. Things were different now, and he had to change if he wanted to continue to be married to her and to see Adele.

She picked up her notebook and searched in her purse for her favorite pen. Finding it, she took both to the bathroom, set them on a small stool beside the tub, and took off her gown. The bathroom was a spacious one for a house this size. The small shower was in the corner and the claw-footed tub sat next to it, under the window. The toilet was on the other side of the pedestal sink. Helen sat down to pee and flush, then stood to inspect her body in the mirror.

Her skin was sagging, but her stomach looked better now than it did earlier. Her breasts seemed to have deflated a little. Her ugly scar was still there and always would be. But she wasn’t going to let it bother her anymore. She had decided to take Dawn’s advice and stop trying to hide it. If people didn’t like it, if they stared at it or asked questions, so what? After what Helen had been through this year, did any of that matter anymore? She was sick of worrying about it. It was skin, that was all, and it wasn’t who she was.

She had to take control of who she was, right now and from now on.

She stepped into the tub. The water felt wonderful as she eased herself in. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, poured a few drops of bath oil into the tub, and leaned back, relaxing. When the water level was just right, she turned off the tap and exhaled. After a moment she picked up her pen and started writing.

She wrote about her scar, her demons about it, and her decision to let them go. She didn’t care what it looked like anymore, and she wouldn’t let anyone—including Monty—make her. She wrote about her self-image—her looks and her acceptance of them. She was still young and she would recover from this pregnancy in a matter of weeks. She might not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but she was attractive. She would be confident in how she looked.

She wrote about her blessings. Even though her babies had died, she was alive. She was a mother. She had a beautiful little girl whom she treasured. She had lost her babies, but with their loss, her excuses for not standing up to Monty for so long had disappeared. Knowing that he had betrayed her made her feel even more determined. She would stop pretending that things between them would somehow get better on their own.