What's Left Behind (29 page)

A few more months where she’d still seize, go slowly blind, and lose control of all bodily functions.

Dad had left the office acting as though they’d received good news, as if he hadn’t listened to a word the doctors had said. As if Mom’s last wishes—to halt all treatment and die with dignity—hadn’t even mattered.

Sometimes forward movement only looked like progress.

Abby moved through the darkness, climbing from rock to rock, swift and sure. “Tessa!”

When no answer sounded across the ledge, Rob added his call to the mix. “Tessa!” He wished to God there was something more he could do to help Abby. Five years ago, he’d sent out the same plea. Next day, Mom had phoned with a lawyer’s name and an appointment to sign over her power of attorney.

Not the answer he’d been hoping for, but an answer nonetheless.

Abby paused and made blowing noises, three scraggly huffs.

Rob massaged her shoulder blades until her breathing softened and she resumed the hike.

“I’m okay,” she said, the thing she said when she wasn’t.

Moments ago, he’d seen her bend under the weight of her fears. And then, just as fast, he’d seen determination claw its way to the surface. He’d seen the face of the woman he loved and admired.

When was the last time he’d felt that way about his ex? Years before the divorce. Years before Mom got sick. Mom’s cancer was the last of many relationship stressors Rob had refused to discuss with Maria, the beginning of the end of their disintegrating marriage.

He had no one to blame but himself.

Abby came to the end of the line, or at least to the place she’d decided to halt. Rob rested his hands on her shoulders, and she tilted her head back. She looked left and right, as if she sought Tessa in the sky. “Help me out here, Luke,” Abby said, and a chill skittered up the back of Rob’s neck. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of Abby’s head.

How would he manage if he’d lost Grace? He didn’t want to ever find out, but he strongly suspected he wouldn’t cope nearly as well as Abby. Most mere mortals didn’t deal with adversity half as well as the amazing woman in his arms.

Below them lay the vertical rocks the asshole kid on the beach must’ve been talking about, a seawater alleyway. And then, as far as he could see, the craggy shoreline continued.

Abby put her back to the ocean. Tremors rippled her shoulders. “There’s so much coastline. So many ways she could’ve gotten lost.” Abby shook her head, her jaw set tight. “Earlier tonight, she told me she thinks Luke’s accident was her fault. Then she told me she’s still considering giving Luke’s baby to someone else.”

“Why would she do that?”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense. But she was upset, and we argued. And then that boy, that stupid boy . . . What if she hurt herself? What if—?”

“She’s fine. She wouldn’t hurt herself.”

“Survivor’s guilt,” Abby said, and her knowing eyes shone through the darkness. “I’ve been there. It’s not a pretty place.”

Rob couldn’t stand the thought of Abby feeling that way, not even for a second. He couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to help her, even in hindsight.

“Tessa wouldn’t hurt herself,” he repeated, but he could tell from the tilt of her head that she wasn’t convinced. “She wouldn’t hurt the baby,” he added.

Abby straightened. “You’re right. Tessa loves that baby.”

“Besides, she’s too fiery to let a little darkness get in her way. She’s a survivor, like her—She’s like you, Abby.”

If they found Tessa—when they found her—he and Abby would sit down and talk about her plans to adopt her son’s baby. The least Rob could do for the woman he loved. Who cared if the so-called timing wasn’t right? Was there ever a good time to have a baby? The tiny creatures took over your home, your every waking moment, and wended their way into your heart. Grace made Rob’s life worth living.

Abby made his life worth living, too. Any child, or grandchild, of hers came with the package.

Let’s just see what happens.

Yup, sometimes he was an ass. A little unsure and a lot scared as hell. And yet, Abby hadn’t given up on him. She was gunning to be heard, determined to make him listen.

The fiery blonde packed a punch when she was ticked off. When he’d ticked her off.

He wouldn’t let this thing, this amazing relationship, with Abby die from neglect. This time, he wouldn’t screw up.

“We’ll find her. Let’s keep going.” Rob motioned with his head to the right. “If she was disoriented, maybe she got turned around, and headed the wrong way up the coastline instead of back to Head Beach.”

“Uh, uh. No.” Abby turned back around and faced the overhang. “We stay here.”

“Like hugging a tree?”

“Exactly. We hug this spot and wait for Tessa to come back to us.”

Rob wrapped his arms around Abby. They stared down the sharp incline to a V in the rocks, where the tides seemed to rush in and out simultaneously. He’d never had a problem with heights. But a healthy respect for the power of the ocean kept you alive. “Okay, baby. Your call.”

Sometimes making progress only looked like standing still.

The force of the fall propelled Tessa into the ocean, as though she were doing a pencil dive. She held her breath, diving deeper and deeper through cold and darkness. Her arms flailed through the water, trying to halt her descent. Her eyes widened, focusing on nothing. Adrenaline filled her chest, backed into her throat.

Was this how Luke had felt when he was about to die?

She touched a hand to the baby, imagining it floating in its own ocean. Just as dark, but warm and safe and—

Her feet hit bottom, and she pushed toward the surface. Pulled and pulled upward. Her lungs aching for air. Her jaw clenched against the building pressure.

She gasped to the surface, sucking in a greedy breath. Rocks on either side of her, the tide swayed gently toward the open ocean. She treaded water, her belly a firm, tight ball beneath her palm. “We’re okay, we’re okay. We’re—”

A wave smacked her in the face. She swallowed a mouthful of water, sputtered, coughed, tried to catch her breath around—

Another wave barreled over her, pulling her under. She needed air, now. The baby. Air. Inside the wave, she somersaulted, over and over, her arms ineffective against the pull of the tides.

Please, no, my baby.

Pressure built inside her chest, her cheeks, her head. She squeezed her lips together, barring the ocean.

Something dark moved outside the wave, a flash of a fin. And then Tessa saw her: a little girl of about two or three, with long dark hair and gray-blue eyes. Tessa knew that face. She knew her. Knew her and loved her.

She loves me.

A smile filled Tessa’s body, a sweet wash of joy like she’d never felt before, and she relaxed inside the wave. Relaxed inside the love. Relaxed and let her body go slack. Even if she made it home, she’d never be the same again.

For the first time in her life, Tessa stopped fighting.

Abby clutched Tessa’s hand, the two women holding on to each other for dear life.

Tessa reclined halfway on the examining table. Tears streamed down the sides of her face, but she didn’t make a sound. As instructed, she pulled her hospital johnny up to reveal her swollen belly.

Rob stood to Abby’s left, beaming a soft-serious gaze at Tessa. Tessa had asked him to stay. “Warm enough?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he tucked the blanket around her feet.

The ER nurse, Bonnie, wrapped two straps around Tessa’s belly. Then she tucked loose bangs back into her dark ponytail and held up two white discs. “I’m going to attach the transducers to the straps. The top transducer picks up contractions. Hopefully, you’re not having any of those.” Bonnie looked to Tessa and offered her a nod-grin, but Tessa’s gaze was trained on Abby.

“Top disc is for contractions that she’s not having,” Abby said. “Gotcha.”

“Bottom disc monitors your baby’s heart rate,” Bonnie continued. “Normal rate’s one-twenty to one-sixty beats per minute.”

“Baby’s heart rate one-twenty to one-sixty. Excellent.”

Because of Tessa’s fall and the associated risk of placenta abruption, the ER doctor had insisted on a CTG, or non-stress test. But who wouldn’t be stressed after Tessa’s ordeal?

Shortly after Abby’s decision to stay put on the ledge, Luke had answered her plea for help and delivered Tessa onto the seaweed-covered rocks. Rob had carried her up over the rocks and back to the beach, as sure-footed as a local. Abby might’ve believed Tessa was perfectly fine, if it hadn’t been for her insistence that a merbaby had led her from the grasp of a killer wave to the safety of shore. More likely, Tessa had sighted a baby seal. Dark haired and a few feet long, the adorable mammal approximated the description Tessa had given for the girl in her oxygen-deprived hallucination.

“The baby didn’t move in the ambulance,” Tessa whispered.

A pinprick of tinnitus wailed in Abby’s left ear. Abby sweetened her voice, and the screaming in her head softened, too. “That doesn’t mean a thing. Car rides always soothe babies to sleep. When Luke was an infant, we’d go for a nap ride around Hidden Harbor every day at noon.”

Tessa searched Abby’s gaze.

Abby held her ground, but her chest drummed as though hundreds of tiny fists were trying to punch their way out.

Rob swung in for backup. “Used to take my daughter, Grace, for a nap ride after dinner,” he said, and Tessa gave the barest hint of a nod.

Bonnie pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose and offered Tessa a smile that looked more pained than encouraging. “Big screen above the monitor will show two lines. Top one’s for the baby’s heartbeat. Bottom’s for contractions. Same lines will print out on the graph paper beside the monitor.” Bonnie tapped the left side of the monitor screen. “Baby’s heart rate, right here.” She squeezed a loop of blue gel onto the first transducer and positioned it against Tessa’s abdomen. Tessa shivered and shut her eyes.

“Sorry,” Bonnie said. “Goop’s always chilly.”

Especially if you’d just raced by ambulance from the frigid Atlantic in Phippsburg to an ER in Brunswick.

Bonnie affixed the second transducer and readjusted both.

Since Tessa’s eyes were closed, Abby filled her cheeks with air. Rob’s exhalation echoed from beside her.

Help us out, Luke.

Bonnie fussed with the monitor’s controls, and the baby’s heartbeat filled the air, evidence of a beautiful creature floating underwater, not unlike a merbaby. Did that mean he or she was safe and sound?

Tessa squeezed Abby’s hand, but she kept her eyes closed, her expression tight. “What’s the baby’s heart rate?” she asked, proving that she’d been listening all along.

“One hundred and thirty-five beats per minute,” Bonnie said, her voice suddenly melodic. “See here?” She pointed to the flat line scrolling across screen. “No contractions. None. Nada.”

Abby checked the monitor and screen herself.The number 135 next to a blinking heart, and no measurable contractions. She released an easy breath. “Open your eyes, baby,” she told Tessa.

Tessa blinked her eyes open, but her expression didn’t change. Then Tessa’s hand went to her belly, and her eyes finally brightened. Tears slid into her mouth. “I felt the baby turn. I felt it!”

Thank you—

“Thank you, Luke,” Tessa said, and she looked to Abby.

Abby’s stomach trembled. She couldn’t be prouder. Her son was watching over his family.

Bonnie held the graph paper in her hands. “Everything looks good. I’m going to let this run for another fifteen minutes and pop back in to check on you before we head over to talk with the doctor.”

Thank you,
Abby mouthed.

Bonnie nodded and slipped out the door.

“Can I have a hug?” Tessa reached her arms out to Abby and folded them around her neck, same way Tessa had held on to Rob when he’d carried her to the beach. All it took for Abby to let a few tears fall. Tessa cried soundlessly into her shoulder, same as Luke used to do when he was little.

When Abby angled her head to Rob, his eyes were wet, and a muscle twitched along his jawline. Big sensitive guy loved babies. Another checkmark from the way-back Abby-and-Celeste ideal-guy list.

Rob passed Abby a box of tissues. She wiped her face and then used another tissue to dab Tessa’s cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did,” Tessa said. “I’m so—”

Abby held up a hand. “No more sorry’s. I’m sick of being sorry. But, yeah, you shouldn’t have left the way you did. In fact, you shouldn’t have left at all.”

“Abby—”

“Let me finish.”

Rob stepped aside. “I’ll leave you girls alone.”

Abby grabbed his hand. “You need to hear this, too,” she told Rob.

He brought her hand to his smiling lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and a fresh batch of tears pressed behind her eyes.

Abby turned back to Tessa. “You were right. I had it easy when Luke was born. Lily Beth took us in. I never even asked for her help. She’s my mom. We pulled together. That’s how families work.”

Abby looked to the ceiling, not seeking Luke this time, but trying to regain some semblance of composure before she flung herself over another ledge in her life. “Tessa, I want you to stay. Not just this week. But—well, however long you need. I want you and the baby to live with me. You’re part of the family now. We pull together.”

“Thank you,” Tessa said, but she looked more dazed than happy. She looked as though she had something to say that she dreaded.

A tickle irritated the back of Abby’s throat. She hadn’t imagined Tessa saying no. She hadn’t considered she could still lose both Tessa and the baby. “You don’t have to decide today, or this week,” Abby blurted out. “We’ll go home, get some rest. You can think about it.Whatever you need.”

Abby caught Rob’s gaze. His rejection she’d considered. That didn’t stop the tickle in her throat from coating her mouth with cotton. “Sometimes the situation’s not ideal. Sometimes, when you’re a mom, you can’t have it all. Not all at the same time anyway,” Abby said, and her chin quivered. Stupid, silly chin. Now wasn’t the time—