073:
NICU hours were firmly kept, admittance at seven a.m. and kicked out at eleven p.m. She softly pulled her fingers through the safety flaps in the glass, and nodded to the nurse who had come to take Steven's stats.
"He's looking better now that he's got the CPAP." The young girl said with an encouraging smile.
Tracy bit her lips. The doctor had been in just a few hours ago recommending the CPAP, oxygen tubes directly into the baby's nose, a tricky treatment that could go either way with the RDS. Since RDS was caused by a lack of the natural slippery substance called surfactant which kept the air sacs in the lungs from deflating, but ran a risk of over-oxygenation and infection. Steven had a decrease in urine, even though he was being fed through a tube. His breathing was still sporadic, indicative of apnea.
She didn't want to leave.
There was something comforting about being alone in the NICU just being close to Steven and praying for him--- this constant litany in her mind and heart--- save him, please, give him strength, please--- or help me accept thy will. She felt unworthy, having not been consistent with prayer or scripture study in the two years since she'd joined the church. But she kept telling herself it was the right thing to do, you had to start somewhere.
She pulled her sweater on, wrapped her scarf around her head and took the gloves out of her pockets. When she pushed out of the NICU double doors and waved to the station nurses, she looked up into Richard's solemn brown eyes. She caught a dry cough in the back of her throat, and turned her face away from him, as he stepped up to take her arm. He wore blue jeans and basketball shoes, his longer leather jacket and scarf. He smelled like wood burning smoke and chlorine, an odd combination. She stifled her nausea.
"Hey." He greeted her with the merest of pecks on her cheek, as they made their way out to the car he'd borrowed from Ray's garage. The night air burned her lungs and she shivered uncontrollably. It had rained every day since Casey died. Like over-saturated weeping.
"Hey. How's Dan?" She looked up at him, trying not to look directly into his eyes, it was too confusing to see his selfless compassion. His whole life was on hold for her and that was overwhelming.
"He's sulking because I took him swimming and then wouldn't let the Voltron guys in the pool."
"Is he asleep?"
"Monday put him to bed at eight, dutifully having read Pat the Bunny ten times, and The Cat in The Hat three times."
She nodded. "Sounds good."
He opened the car door for her, and then trotted around to the driver's side and got in. "I talked to General Colby tonight, and he's going to pull some strings and get you a satellite call tomorrow."
"Oh Richard!" She breathed, turning to glace at him in shining appreciation. "I can't believe you would do that for me! Thank you!" She leaned over to clasp him around the neck, leaning just a second too long, before sliding back to her space, a satisfied smile lingering on her lips.
"I thought you'd like that plan." He seemed satisfied with her reaction.
"It's so kind of you, all you're doing."
"I talked to Jules, too. He wanted to know how Steven is doing. He said he'd call you later."
"I figured." The elephant in the car was the funeral they'd both missed. She concentrated on the road ahead, the sparkles of shimmering droplets on the windshield before he switched on the wipers.
Startling her, Richard reached over and took her gloved hand and laced their fingers quickly before she could think. Tracy tried to pull away and he held her gently but firmly. He looked over at her as a passing car illuminated her face for him.
"Wh-what?"
"So, where does this leave us?" The tone was tense and determined, with that funny hint of insecurity she always felt with him.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
He lifted her ring finger with the diamond under the glove, and fingered it, catching her eye again.
"We're not really going have yet another conversation about----."
"No, we've already relegated me to brother status, but are we friends also?"
"Like what?"
"Like will I come hang out when Raine gets back?"
She reared back as far away from him as she could get. "Seriously, Richard? Of course, you'll always be welcome, but- but you'll probably be busy courting every available girl on the block—and d-doing lots of movies."
He nodded, blowing out his breath. "Speaking of which..."
She eyed him warily, what was this really about? She didn't need or want a confrontation about these issues tonight. She rubbed the mascara off her right eye viciously, swiping it till it was red.
"There's this project."
"What kind of project?"
"It's a movie, a love story, might be right up your alley. It's got kind of a heaven overtone."
"Excuse me? Heaven?"
"Yeah." His eyes twinkled at her eerily in the oncoming traffic. And in that second everything about him was so appealing, she caught her breath. Richard cleared his throat having felt the whiplash current as it washed over him and out. "Heaven, this gal almost dies and she forgets to walk into the light and gets stuck on earth and she falls for this guy who is on this side, the earth side."
Tracy was shaking her head. "As if I don't have enough issues with death around me?"
"It's in Scotland."
"Yeah, so?" But she knew, he'd thought of her so she could stay with her dad and relieve herself of some of the pressures of everyday life, get some parental help.
He eyed her curiously. "Why not?"
She blew out her breath. "I don't know. Steven is going to need round the clock care. I don't think I should be taking any projects."
"It's a relatively short one. We'd be done with the whole thing by end of July."
She scrunched up her nose, shaking her head contemplatively. "Yeah, I can't see me doing any kind of heavenly love story this year."
He grunted.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked, trying not to feel outraged, but she was too tired not to. Her emotions were all out of proportion anyway. "I'll be big fat prego in a few months anyway."
"Not by July. Just admit it----." He shook his head and then slammed his palms both flat against the steering wheel in frustration. "You don't want to do another film with me."
"It's not just you!" She yelled, instantly overwhelmingly angry. "I don't want to do another film at all!"
"Why? That's crazy! You're a wonderful actress, a natural. With my continued tutelage, you could be the next Brooke Shields."
Her eyes widened. "I've met Brooke Shields, she has regrets about her acting, for your information!" She scooted toward the window, wishing the lights reflecting in his eyes didn't sparkle so alarmingly, and her heart didn't flutter so attentively when she saw them. She wanted to be angry. Anger fueled her grief, gave it an outlet. She knew this from her classes, it was supposed to be this way.
But, dammit, she didn't want to be angry with Richard. She really just wanted him to..... hold her.
Dammit.
That was not the way it was supposed to be.
"I've met and worked with Brooke Shields, and she--- for your information--- is a born actress. And she enjoys it immensely, even though she felt pushed somewhat as a child. She now really finds it to be an all absorbing creative outlet." Richard had seen or somehow felt intuitively her capitulation.
She had to disabuse him of any ideas. She couldn't allow him to sense her confusion. She was freaking married, for heaven's sake! Married! "I have creative outlets! I have my music! I have my children! I don't need any more creative outlets."
"Don't you see how incredibly off balance you are, though? You need your man!"
"Well, that's just not possible, right now, is it? So."
"Damn, Tracy! I'm that man! I'm the one that can give you that outlet!"
"You!" She sputtered. "Back to that?"
"If you'd met me first.... Be honest! If you'd met me first...."
"We've already had this conversation. Richard! Stop pushing me!"
He pulled into the gated driveway of Ray's New York mansion and the gates slid open on their automatic wheels with their automatic sensors.
He scowled and curled his lips. It was obvious he struggled with accepting the facts as well. She jerked the car door open as soon as it stopped. "I think you should go back to Cali."
He palm slapped his own forehead as he hit the auto-locks—not even bothering to put the car in the garage. His dark hair was messed up completely from his frustrated attention. She was to the huge wooden front doors. With one hand on the handle, she turned and hissed.
"You can't-- can't be here. I need you to diffuse me, but not at the cost of my loyalty to my husband. I will never-- never-- betray him, no matter what I'm feeling in this weary emotional state." Her voice caught on a bitter sob. She wished fervently that she could talk to Raine as openly and deeply as she spoke to Richard, letting him see the good and the very ugly sides of her. He brought that out and forced her to confront it. There was nothing overtly pretty about her relationship with Richard.
And he could never-- never know-- the sudden longing she felt, the pathetically confused state she was in when confronted with him, and his blatant and undisguised interest.
"I'm sorry." He finally mumbled so low she had to strain to make out his apology. He cleared his throat, in the stilted silence, the noise of the city blaringly buzzing in their ears. "I accept you and him-- hell, I do everything I can to get you out of my blood, including finding a way for you to-- talk to him. And then I----." He stopped, rubbing his head hard, yanking at his own hair. His eyes looked up at her, tortured. "I can't understand it. I hate it! Hate it! This--! This--." He hung his head. "I'm not leaving you. It's not a simple thing, and I can, and will handle it. And I won't leave you. It's the wrong thing to do."
She stared at him, her undecipherable, impenetrable battle raging inside. Why!? Why? Why was she so faithless? So, dishonorable?
She'd never in her life expected her trials to be something like this. The far cry from one man in her life. How?
She looked down. Her white knuckles gripped the moonlit-shiny water-spattered door handle, and looked like a spectral effigy. She shuddered. Hadn't someone once said-- maybe in a conference talk or something, that the Lord would test each and every person in the hardest way for them, never leaving them alone, but always demanding the proof of loyalty. Hadn't she heard that somewhere?
She'd lost.
Lost so much. Jet, Geoff, Casey...parents, brothers--
She'd become a singer, a songwriter, a performer... a wife and a mother.
It was wrapped up-- her life-- it was solidly decided in one way and one way only, and that way could not-- and would not be violated.
"Stay then." She said doubtfully. "I'm going for a swim."
******