Take Care, Sara

He smiled. “Derek tells me that every day.”


She frowned, wondering what he meant. His brother Derek was dead. How could he talk to him every day? Was he loonier than she was? Sara sometimes thought she saw and heard her husband, but she didn’t hear his voice in her head on a daily basis. Not yet.

Spencer paused at the door. “I really did just want to help you, Sara. I hate seeing you like this.”

She hesitated. Spencer was almost out the door. “Spencer.” He stopped, looking over his broad shoulder at her. “I…” Sara blew out a noisy breath. “I know you meant well.” It was as close to a thank you as she could get.

He gave a brusque nod and left, the door closing with loud finality.

The quiet was too quiet. It usually didn’t bother her, but today, for whatever reason, she couldn’t stand it. Maybe because in the silence her thoughts morphed into one mass of questions and remembrances she couldn’t deal with.

You always thought they’d be there, day after day; alive, whole. Sara had thought he’d always be there. She’d imagined years and years of them together; growing old together, having children and grandchildren, and then when it was time, dying together. In her mind it had always been them as a couple; not her without him. If only she’d known. If only she’d known he would be taken from her. She would have done things so differently. But that was the thing about life: no one ever really knew when it would end.

***

Standing just inside the door, she stared at him, watching his black tee shirt tighten over his strong back as he held a nail to the wall with one hand and raised a hammer with the other.

“I’m pregnant.”

Cole dropped the hammer on his foot, cursing. He straightened, turning those magnetic blue eyes on her. He demanded, “What did you say?”

Sara inhaled slowly, shakily. Stomach in knots and alive with wild fluttering she knew had nothing to do with the life already growing inside her, she fought for a calm she did not feel. “I’m pregnant.”

She didn’t look at him; she couldn’t. It hadn’t been planned. Babies were in the future, sure, but not yet. They weren’t ready. They weren’t ready, but she was. Of course she was. Already she could feel the love for her unborn baby inside, already she couldn’t wait to hold her child; their child.

He slammed his hands on his lean hips, inhaling sharply. “What—?” Cole looked down and swallowed. “What was that? One more time. Did you say—did you say you’re pregnant?” His eyes met hers, brighter than normal and focused intently on her.

Nodding, eyes stinging with happy tears, Sara smiled. “Yes. Tell me you’re okay with this.”

Cole exhaled noisily, averting his face. His posture was stiff and he hadn’t moved his hands from his hips. He seemed to be struggling. Sara felt her joy dim. It was scary and new; they didn’t have a clue how to raise a baby, but they’d learn. No one was ever really ready to have one, mentally or financially. If Cole was completely against this, Sara didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t take that.

“Cole? Are you not glad about this?” she whispered, dropping her purse to the floor. She rubbed her arms, cold in the stillness of his response. “I know it’s unexpected and business has been a little slow and…” Sara trailed off as he strode toward her, his eyes on fire and his jaw tight.

“How can you ask such a thing?” he said harshly, stopping before her. Cole’s body heat radiated off him, warming her with his nearness.

She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “You’re not saying anything. What am I supposed to think?”

“I am so happy,” Cole said slowly, cupping her face in his rough palms. “So happy. You have no idea how happy I am.” He took a shuddering breath, pressing his cherry Carmex-scented lips to her forehead. “So happy,” he whispered.

Sara cried, loving Cole more in the moment he knelt before her and pressed his cheek to her flat stomach than in any other moment she could remember. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.” She brushed his soft hair back from his forehead, loving the texture of it, loving him.

He looked up at her. “I was talking to the baby. You know, love you, baby.”

With a snort, she pulled away. “Of course you were. What were you attempting to hang up when I walked through the door?”

Cole stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing.” He looked guilty.

Sara sighed, moving toward the living room. “What is it, Cole?”

“I won it,” he announced, a slight scowl on his face.

Eyebrows lifted, she looked at the 10 X 13 picture resting on the couch. “So everything you win must go up on the wall?”

“No. Just the cool stuff.”

The ‘cool stuff’ was a close-up photo of a vintage red Ford truck from the fifties or sixties. It sat in a field of grass, shining with the glint of sunlight on it and blue skies behind it. The body was rounded in a way the newer trucks had gotten away from.

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