God, I miss him.
I thought with time it would get better, but it hasn’t. It’s been four weeks. A whole month now since I have seen Jacob and every day the need for him gets worse. What is wrong with me?
I’ve gotten settled. I have a routine, but that’s what it is. A routine. The highlight of my week is when Nicole calls me. She told me that Dancer has been attending therapy for the last two weeks. She feels like he’s trying to get better. I’m glad. I really am, but there’s a part of me wondering why he couldn’t do that when we were together. A bigger part of me is hurt because he hasn’t tried to contact me. Did I mean so little? Now that he’s trying to get better, am I no longer important to him? Did I finally convince him it was over? That thought chills me.
These questions have haunted me constantly for the last three days—ever since Nicole’s last call where she told me that Dancer had moved back into the house he and I had shared.
My hand goes down to my stomach and I rub it gently. I’m not showing yet, but I can feel changes. I will be having an ultrasound soon. I want Jacob to be there. I sigh. People in hell want ice water I guess.
The phone rings and my hand automatically grabs it on the first ring, not bothering to check the caller I.D—just praying I know who it is.
“Hello?”
“Carrie.”
The word is more breathed than said. I feel it and it warms me.
“Hello, Jacob.”
“Don’t hang up on me Care Bear, please don’t hang up on me.”
“I should.”
“I know sweetheart, but I’m begging you not to.”
I say nothing in return, but I don’t hang up.
“I’ve missed you, Care Bear. The house feels empty without you.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I say praying I’m wrong.
“How are you? How’s our angel?”
“Angel?” I ask looking down at my hand that is cupping my stomach.
“I’ve decided we’re having a girl.”
“We are?” I ask, not sure if him saying we’re having a baby, or the fact he says it’s a girl touches me more.
“Yeah, the world needs more beautiful women like her mommy.”
“Jacob…”
“Shhh… baby. I’ve not heard your voice in over ten days. I just want to lie here on the bed and hear you, please?”
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I ask, my eyes closing.
“Therapy today in Glasgow, so I didn’t feel like going in. You didn’t answer, how are you?”
“I’m okay, getting settled. I went to the cemetery and visited with my parents. It’s a nice plot they would like it. It’s peaceful.
“That’s good baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.
“I would have liked that.”
Nicole said you were going to therapy. How is, I mean, you know, is that going okay?”
“It’s rough going, but I’ll make it.”
“Are you eating okay? The book says you shouldn’t eat fish Carrie, I know you like it but…”
“The book?”
“I bought some pregnancy books. I wanted to know what you are going through.”
“I…I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Say you won’t eat fish, Care Bear.”
I smile.
“I won’t, Jacob. What else did you buy?”
“I bought a book for the baby. This lady at the book store told me it’s good if the baby hears our voices. She suggested it.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, she said her sons read to all of her grandkids like that. She swears they came out of the stomach looking for their dad’s voices. I kind of like that idea.”
I listen to him talk, I like the way he sounds kind of sheepish. It’s a good sound.
“What book did you get?”
“Goodnight Moon.”
“You could read it to me now.”
“I’d like that. Do you have a speakerphone?”
“Yeah why?”
“Turn it on so the munchkin can hear it too.”
Munchkin? I can’t help but grin.
“Okay Jacob,” I say while I click the speaker button.
I listen to him read and notice the subtle differences in him. He seems at ease, he seems…tender.
As he finishes, I pick the phone back up and turn off the speaker.
“That was nice Jacob, thank you.”
“Do you think the baby liked it? I’ve tried to find a book about motorcycles. There’s not that many. I’m going to make one up for our girl.”
“You’re a confusing man, Jacob Blake.”
“You should try being me. I’m trying to get better, Carrie. I promise. I’m trying, Care Bear.”
“And therapy?” I ask, needing to know more.
“I hate it. I hate every minute of it, but I’m trying.”
“Jacob…”
“Can I call you tomorrow night?”
This is it. The moment of truth.
“I’d like that, but kind of early? I get tired easily these days, so I crash with the chickens.”
“Eight?”
“Okay. Talk to you then.”
“Sweet dreams, Care Bear.”
“Sweet dreams, Jacob.”
Chapter 38
Dancer