chapter THIRTY-SIX
TUESDAY, MARCH 20, 1973
Curtis came home for lunch the same as he did every day. Not only because he had to eat but also because he couldn’t go an entire day without seeing his wife. He enjoyed checking up on her, making sure she was doing okay. For the past couple of weeks, he would usually find her moving around the house, cleaning, and doing far more than he thought she should be doing. Her excuse was always that she was so full of energy and excitement that she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Sometimes he would simply watch her, but there were times she’d send him right back out the door with a sandwich, telling him that he worried too much, but he couldn’t help it.
“Baby? Where’re you at?” he called when he stepped into the house and closed the front door behind him.
She clearly wasn’t in the living room, so he checked the kitchen, stopping to put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the kitchen table. No Lorrie.
There was a strange sensation in his gut as he moved down the hall toward the bedroom. He tried to shake off the eerie feeling, but he couldn’t. Pushing open the door, he found Lorrie lying on the bed. She was facing away from the door, her legs curled up, and she was moaning faintly, the soft sound drifting across the room.
“Honey?” he asked, moving closer.
She didn’t budge.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leaned over to see if she was asleep. Sweat dotted her forehead and her eyes were open.
“Oh, my God, baby.” He didn’t need to be a fucking doctor to know something was horribly wrong. Rather than ask unnecessary questions, he picked her up in his arms and carried her right out to his truck. Not a single argument came from her, which he knew was a bad sign.
Being as gentle as he could, he set her on the passenger seat, then rushed around and climbed in. The keys were in the ignition like always, so he turned the engine over and kicked gravel behind him as he sped down the dirt drive that led to the road into town.
“It hurts,” Lorrie said, her hands on her stomach. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Curtis didn’t say anything. He was no expert, but since the day Lorrie had told him she was pregnant, he’d started reading, and this was one of those things he’d prayed he would never need to know about. He wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so fast, except he’d seen the blood on the sheet when he’d picked her up. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t good.
Rather than drive all the way to the hospital, which was a good half-hour away, Curtis stopped at the doctor in town, knowing Lorrie needed help now. Not later.
When he saw the sign that read Family Practitioner, Dr. Edward Davids, M.D., he pulled into the parking lot and right up to the front door of the small building. Doing his best not to send her through the dashboard, he parked the truck, then bolted out and around to her side, pulling her into his arms and carrying her inside.
“Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asked, her eyes wide.
“We need the doctor to see her,” he told her. “Now.”
“Sir, the doctor’s in with a—”
“I don’t fucking care,” he snarled. “Show me to a room and get the damn doctor.”
Without waiting for her to instruct him, Curtis turned to the only door in the waiting area. He’d been here before, but not since Dr. Davids had taken over the practice. He managed to heave it open, even with Lorrie still in his arms. She had her head buried in his neck, her arms wrapped around him, and she was sobbing hysterically.
There were only two doors, and one was open, so he went there. It was a patient room, so he deposited Lorrie on the small padded table, then turned and headed right back out. He ran smack into the doctor just outside the door.
“Mr. Walker? Can I help you?”
Curtis looked at the doctor, recognizing him from church. He’d never been to see the man, wasn’t even sure if a family practitioner could help her, but at the moment, he was the only option they had.
“Not me. My wife. She’s pregnant. And she’s … bleeding.” Curtis helped the man along, pushing him into the room.
A nurse soon joined them.
“Mr. Walker, I need you to step outside,” the doctor said firmly.
“I’m not goin’ any-goddamn-where,” he growled.
“It’s okay, Curtis,” Lorrie said, her voice choppy. “I just… Please.”
He swallowed hard but nodded his head. “I’ll be in the hall.”
Turning, he managed to make it out the door before he realized he was shaking uncontrollably.
The pain in her abdomen was unbearable, but not nearly as overwhelming as the fear consuming her. When she’d woken up that morning, she had started cramping, which was the reason she’d gotten back in bed, hoping that she could sleep it off and everything would be all right.
“Lorrie, I’m Dr. Davids. Remember me?”
Lorrie recognized the name. She went to church with his family, and she’d even gone to school with one of his sons. “Yes,” she managed to squeak.
“Good. Now, I need you to tell me how far along you are.”
“Eight weeks,” she rasped, her eyes closed.
“Is this your first pregnancy?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been seen by a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been bleeding?”
“Since yesterday,” she said, feeling ashamed. She should’ve gone to the doctor before now, but she’d been too scared. She knew in her heart what they were going to tell her, and that was the last thing she wanted to hear.
“I’m not an obstetrician,” he told her, then his voice faded as though he was facing away from her. “I don’t have any equipment here, but I can do an examination of the cervix.”
Lorrie nodded, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, not even caring what he had to do or who he was talking to. She just wanted him to save her baby.
“Has the bleeding gotten worse?” the doctor asked, his voice closer now.
Lorrie nodded again.
“I need to do a pelvic examination. Is this okay with you?”
“Yes,” she said, now crying violently.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as the nurse touched her arm. “We need to get you into a gown, Lorrie.”
Another nod and a lot more tears were all she had to offer.
Curtis remained outside Lorrie’s door, leaning against the wall, his fingers tapping against his thighs as he nervously waited. He could only hear the deep rumble of the doctor’s voice but not what he was saying. Part of him was grateful he didn’t have to hear, but the other part needed to be in that room with his wife, holding her, consoling her.
God, please don’t let Lorrie lose this baby. We’ll be good parents, I swear it.
While he sent up silent prayers, he closed his eyes and hoped for the best.
I’ll quit smoking, I’ll stop cursing, I’ll do anything at all. Just please, don’t take this baby from us. We’ve waited so long for this. Please don’t…
He heard Lorrie’s muted moan through the door, and he knew she was in pain. They’d been in the room for nearly twenty minutes, and he wanted to know what they were saying, what was going on, but he was terrified to find out.
Just a couple of days ago, he and Lorrie had been talking about the house and how they needed a bigger one. One with more bedrooms, a bigger kitchen, another bathroom, extra space for all the toys they would eventually have. Curtis had even mentioned that his mother was tossing around the idea of moving out of the big house because it was too much space now that Maryanne and Lisa were the only two still living at home. Hell, Curtis had even envisioned which room would’ve been the baby’s.
There was more deep rumbling as the doctor spoke, followed by an ear-splitting cry. This one he knew wasn’t due to physical pain, but the emotional pain that came along with the devastating news.
He didn’t need to be in the room to know that their precious baby didn’t make it. His legs gave out, and he slid down the wall to the floor. He placed his face in his hands and bawled, not even caring who saw him.