“Did he give you flowers in the park? For Valentine’s Day? What’s his name, Caitlin?” I asked.
Her chin puckered. “You . . . said . . . you weren’t going to ask me those things.”
And then she crumpled. She fell into Abby’s arms, sobbing, her face pressed against Abby’s neck, her body shuddering so much that Abby had to hold her up. Abby rubbed her back and held her tight and looked over Caitlin’s shoulder at me, her face sending me a clear message.
I hope you’re happy now. I hope you got what you wanted.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Abby woke me by knocking lightly, then coming in the guest room before I could say anything. Light spilled in from the hall.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She’s in the shower. She needed to take one.”
I sat up quickly. “You left her—”
“It’s fine. The door’s open, and the water’s running. I helped her get undressed. She doesn’t have anything else to wear.”
“Where did she sleep?”
“In the bed. She slept a couple of hours at least.”
“Did she say anything?” I asked.
“She apologized for leaving and for scaring us.”
“Did she say where she went?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Did she say anything in her sleep?”
“I want to tell you something else. Something important.”
I was more insistent. “So she didn’t?”
“I was asleep, too, Tom.” Abby looked behind her, checking on the bathroom. When she turned back around, I took note of the fact that she looked calmer, more relaxed than the day before. Even with a lack of sleep, she looked refreshed. “I want to tell you that I feel good about the way things are going.”
“You do? Our daughter goes out the window, and you feel good?”
“I had a dream last night, while I was sleeping next to Caitlin. In my dream, there was this woman, and she came to our door here, the front door of this house. She was maybe twenty-five years old, and she was pregnant. She didn’t look like Caitlin, not at all. She didn’t even resemble her. But when I opened the door and saw her, I knew it was Caitlin. She was coming here to tell us she was pregnant. You see?”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“It means she’s going to be okay,” Abby said. “She has a future, one that’s going to turn out fine. We just have to accept that this is the path we’ve been set on, and know that eventually we’ll get to the place we want to be. Like Dr. Rosenbaum said last night, this is a long road.”
Abby smiled down at me, with a forced smile I recognized. As Abby became increasingly involved with the church, I saw that smile more and more. The church believed in the power of positive thinking, and its members were encouraged to present a happy face to the world. I wasn’t sure if Pastor Chris actually taught his followers that they could change the world through smiling, but I wouldn’t have doubted it.
“And this dream made you feel better?” I asked.
“The dream and the way things worked out last night. Caitlin came back.”
“You know they told us the pregnancy test was negative? I don’t think I want a grandchild out of this deal.”
Abby’s facade melted. “Why would you say a thing like that, Tom?”
“I’m helping you interpret your dream.”
“Why do you always have to see the negative side of things?” She looked behind her again. “I was thinking of it metaphorically, that it was saying Caitlin could be happy again.”
“It just seems silly to place that much stock in a dream, doesn’t it?” I settled back against the pillows. “It’s wish fulfillment. Did you used to have dreams about Caitlin coming back?”
“Sometimes.”
“I did, too. And in those dreams, she would come home and she’d be happy to see us and we’d be happy to see her. And when she came in the door, we’d know where she’d been and how she’d been taken, and it always, always made sense, just like your dream made sense to you.”
Abby looked at the floor. I could tell she wasn’t showered yet, and I was reminded of the first nights we’d spent together, the mornings when Abby wouldn’t believe me that I thought she looked beautiful even then, just after waking up.
“We almost had another baby together,” I said.
“Oh, Tom.”
“Where was I when it happened? How did you hide it from me?”
She shook her head. “Tom . . .”
“I want to know. I have a right to know.”
“You were at school. It was early in the day. The cramps were terrible, then bleeding. I knew what was happening.” She looked up. “I almost called you. I did.”
“But?”
“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell you.”
The water shut off in the bathroom. Abby turned away and said, “Are you okay, honey? I’m right here.”
Caitlin said something I couldn’t make out. Abby started to leave, but I said her name, stopping her.
“You called Pastor Chris, right?” I said. “He took you to the doctor.”