Surrogate (13 page)

     It seemed forever before her mouth softened beneath his, and in that split second, he felt his world had begun to spin.  Though slow and clumsy, the invitation was there nonetheless, and he didn't hesitate.  Instead, he pressed closer, gently wrapping one arm around her and easing her back on the bed.

     As he kissed her, he heard her breathing speed up.  His own body matched it.  More than once, he felt her sort of stiffen, and he thought she might pull away, but she didn't, not even when his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her nightgown, slowly unfastening them as clumsily as a schoolboy finding himself with a girl for the first time.  Perhaps he could have said it was just that things had been so tense, but in truth he'd always felt like that schoolboy around Carrie, always felt clumsy and unworthy no matter what, yet she had still chosen him to love.

     As his hand touched her breast, he heard her gasp, and the sound of it shot through him.  He didn't know what he had expected to find when he saw her face, but the mixture of panic and pleasure wasn't it.  It was almost as though she were afraid of the feelings surging through her.

     Was it the baby, he wondered, his hand stilling.

     "Are you all right?" he whispered.

     Her eyes focused, settling on his face.

     "I'm okay," she finally managed in a slow, uncontrolled whisper, the strangeness of that voice raw in the night.

     "The baby?"  His hand settled on her abdomen.

     "The baby is fine."  She sounded winded, but Robbie knew she was reacting to him.  Still, he waited a moment, needing to be sure she wanted this moment between them as much as he did.

     At first, he thought she might stop him.  Her gaze lingered on his face, and her lips were slightly parted.  She was about to say something but had suddenly lost the words.  Then she slipped her hand to the base of his neck and pulled him to her so she could kiss him.

     "I love you, Carrie," he whispered and waited.  When she didn't immediately respond, he eased back slightly and looked at her.  He didn't understand how she seemed to see every part of him at once, but she did, and then her lips slowly lifted into a smile.

     "I love you, too."

Chapter Nine

     Dawn was spilling into the room when the telephone rang, jolting Robbie awake.  He thought he was just dreaming because the sound seemed so far away and no one ever called him this early, yet there was someone willing to shake him back into consciousness no matter how diligently he tried to ignore the responsibility.

     On the third ring, he convinced himself he wasn't sleeping and cocked an eye open to glare at the offending telephone.

     "Damn it to hell," Robbie muttered savagely, reaching for the phone.  Before he could grab the receiver, his fingers fumbled across the nightstand, knocking the alarm clock to the floor before finally latching onto the phone.

     "Hello?" he answered, trying to blink everything into focus, not that it was working.

     "Good morning, Robbie,"  Beth's voice greeted him, yet despite the friendly tone there was something guarded to it which already suggested this call might not be a whole lot of fun. 

     "Beth.  How are you?"  He kept his voice low while glancing over at Carrie, relieved she was still sleeping.  She'd turned away from him at some time during the night and propped her head up with both hands while curling her knees toward her body.

     "I'm fine," she answered, her voice a little more hesitant.  "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

     "Now isn't really a good time," he said.  He shook his head, sitting slowly upright.  Although he hadn't heard Beth out, ten to one he knew exactly where this was going, and it wasn't going to be good.

     "Look, Robbie, I'm worried about Carrie.  I've been thinking about yesterday all night, and I just had to call you."  The words tumbled out in a frantic rush.  Perhaps she'd been afraid that if she didn't get them out they might never be spoken, and obviously she needed to say them, one way or another.

     "I know you're worried," Robbie said, trying to keep his tone even.  "I just think it's going to take some time for her to get over the accident."

     "I know you're right," Beth agreed, plunging on in the way she always did when she felt right about something.  "But I think this goes deeper than just the wreck.  I really think something is different about her.  I just can't seem to put my finger on what exactly it is."

     Robbie found himself staring at his wife, taking solace in the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath.  He, too, knew deep in his heart something was different, but he didn't know how to deal with it, either, and there was no point in dwelling on something that made no sense--something he couldn't change no matter how desperately he wanted to.

     "It's going to be okay, Beth, really.  Look, I've got to go.  I'm right in the middle of something."

     "Oh," Beth said, her voice sort of falling off.  "All right, then."

     By the time Robbie had hung up the phone, he felt his shoulders tightening.  Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about how everyone, including himself, had noticed the differences in his wife.  He gritted his teeth, still wanting to believe that given time things would go back to the way they had been.  He had to believe that or there was no hope of anything. 

     He slowly opened his eyes and looked over at Carrie, and even as she slept, a slight smile crept to her lips, transforming her expression completely.  That was the Carrie he knew, the woman he loved more than life itself, and he had no doubt that if it came down to it, he would give his life to protect her.  He just wished he could protect her from all the changes he didn't understand.

     Her eyelashes fluttered and slowly parted.  For a moment, she stared at him vacantly.  She seemed not to recognize him, and the smile melted away, and in that void of emotions he found himself floundering, losing what hope he'd held only a moment before.

     Still, he took a deep breath and forced himself to smile, trying hard to hold onto the memory of making love to her last night.  "Good morning," he said, lying back on the bed as he angled his body closer to her.

     "Morning." Her voice was soft, and he thought she might move away, but she didn't.  How could things have been so warm yesterday and feel this distant today.  Or had it all been in his head?

     "Are you all right?" Carrie asked, trying to ease her bulky frame to a sitting position.

     "I'm okay," he said.  "Just stay there.  You don't have to get up just yet."  He edged even closer so their faces were only inches apart. 

     She didn't say anything, just stared at him, trying to read his mood without being able to figure out what he was thinking.  Once upon a time, Carrie had known him better than he had himself, but now she seemed to struggle with his emotions, and he with hers.

     Still, once their gazes locked, he found himself lost in her, and he didn't want to think--didn't want to remember all the things he couldn't explain.  This was his wife, and this moment was all that mattered.  He leaned closer, one hand stroking her hair, brushing it from her face.  Her lips parted, waiting, drawing him to her until they kissed.

     This was his Carrie; it had had to be.  His heart couldn't be wrong about that.  It just couldn't.

     Carrie suddenly gasped, and her head pulled back slightly, widening the distance between them.

     "What is it?" he asked, his eyes shooting open.  "What's wrong?"  He watched her expression transform from one of surrender to a sort of panic, and the sudden shift forced him to sit upright as he looked her over, starting at her face and ending at her belly where Carrie's hand rested, palm flat against her abdomen, fingers splayed.

     "The baby."

     "What about him?"

     She gingerly reached for his hand.  Even as she touched him, he stiffened, not because she had touched him but because he was afraid of finding out something that would change things again, change them in a way he couldn't handle.

     She must have felt him resisting because she tugged harder, dragging his palm to her belly, where her hand had just rested.

     "What is it?"

     "This."  She rested both her hands on his and closed her eyes, waiting.

     Robbie frowned and watched his wife, the breath catching in his throat.  She was so beautiful, even though her hair hadn't been brushed, and dark shadows had collected themselves beneath her eyes, hinting that no matter how much rest she'd had been getting, it had been far from enough.

     One moment, he stared at his wife, and the next, he felt the baby kicking beneath his palm, the feel of it stuttering through him.  The repetitive motions felt almost like a heartbeat--a tiny, slow heartbeat, and he closed his eyes.  In that instant, he knew he'd never been more thankful for anything, just this moment with Carrie and the baby.  What more could there be than this?

     His breath caught, and for once he stared ahead, not thinking, just feeling.  His whole world was tied up in all that lay before him, and even though he tried just to breathe, he felt a fresh flood of pain and fear wash through him.  He'd come so close to losing them both--so close.

     "Robbie?"

     He forced himself to open his eyes and slowly move his gaze to meet hers.  In that instant, his whole body started trembling, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to stop shaking.  It wouldn't stop, and he felt afraid and raw.  All the pretending in the world wasn't going to hide what he had come so close to losing.

     One of her hands lifted and caressed his face--gently, lovingly.  "It's okay," she whispered. 

     "Then why I can't I feel it?" he finally asked, his voice thick.  "I can't seem to shake how close I came to losing you."

     "Shhh," she whispered, leaning closer.

     As he kissed her, he heard her tummy rumble with hunger.  At the sound, both of them jumped and looked down.  He burst into laughter as the growling started anew, this time louder.

     Carrie watched his face and then her mouth slowly twisted into a grin before she broke into a wave of her own laughter, and Robbie was mesmerized by the way her joy seemed to light up her entire expression.  It was as though the ceiling had parted and sunlight had suddenly flooded the room.

     "You must be starved," he murmured, reaching up and taking her face in his hands.

     "Yeah," she admitted.  "I am."

     Robbie thought about the empty refrigerator that needed a fresh batch of groceries before he made a plan.  "How about we drive to town and grab something there?  Then we can buy some groceries to bring back with us for supper.  Will that work?"

     Before Carrie could answer, her stomach growled again, forcing another chuckle from both of them. 

     "Well, I guess the matter is settled, then.  Once you get dressed, we'll go into town."  He kissed her cheek and rose to get himself dressed.  Still, he found himself watching her every move, worried.

     She rose much more slowly than he had, probably because of the awkward weight of her body.  She still wore her nightgown, and as she passed the dresser while headed for the closet, she stopped and stared at her reflection.

     Robbie tugged on his shirt and frowned, puzzled at how she seemed to be memorizing her own face--she didn't seem to recognize herself, which was just another piece of the puzzle he wished would just stop nagging at him.  It was one thing not to understand and another to feel the confusion so acutely he thought he'd go mad with it.

     Taking a deep breath, Carrie lifted a trembling hand and gently brushed her fingers through her long, reddish-blonde hair.  The gesture itself seemed familiar enough, but the movement was much slower and less sure.

     "Carrie?  Are you feeling all right, hon?"

     His voice was soft, but she still jumped when he spoke as though she had been expecting him.

     She nodded woodenly and headed to the closet, where she scanned the clothing there, finally settling on a pair of khaki capris and a white tee shirt.  She gave her husband one last look and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

     The parking lot of Ann's Kitchen was packed--there was only one spot left, and Robbie was barely able to nose the pick-up in between two shiny new SUVs, which probably explained why the spot was still open in the first place.  Still, he managed, and once he was parked, he quickly got out, made his way around and opened Carrie's door, a simple gesture he'd always made, and Robbie was holding fast to all the simple routines, hoping they'd eventually prove that the fear lining the pit of his stomach would vanish.

      Robbie offered his hand so Carrie could ease down from the truck without problems because she couldn't see where she was walking, considering the way her belly stood out.  More often than not, she'd said she felt like a beached whale, and he could understand that.  It was only getting worse with each week as the baby headed into his--or her--final growth spurts.

     As they walked up to the front of the building--a simple structure that had been in this small, rural town longer than Robbie had been alive--he slipped his arm around Carrie and pulled her closer.  She stiffened slightly and then eased up, which was a good sign.  The last thing Robbie wanted to go back to was the distance between the two of them.