Chapter Thirteen
Turner
I have been pacing up and down the hallway just outside of Clove’s room in the hospital, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell me something, any damn thing.
She’s here, a few feet away from me, and I’m scared to fucking death of what I will say to her when I see her.
I can’t even begin to wrap my head around everything that has happened in the past twenty- four hours.
Stopping just outside of her door, I lean up against the wall directly across from her room, running my fingers through my hair. My body sluggishly follows the smooth surface of the wall as I slide down to the floor.
Bill and my mother-in-law sit fidgeting in chairs directly across from me. My sister-in-law Krista, God bless her, is two floors up where specialists are running tests, examining and taking care of my daughter. A daughter I have yet to see.
I love the unique name her mother picked out for her. I can’t wait to meet her, to see if she looks like Clove, me, or a combination of us both. Clove and I talked about having children. We were so close to being ready, me more so than her really. Am I wrong to want to wait until I see my wife first so she can introduce Journey to me? Fuck, I don’t know.
Journey, I repeat over and over in my head.
I hope she’s okay. I know my wife better than anyone. She would never let anything happen to her child, but I’m still worried out of my mind that something could be wrong, especially after hearing about the things that happened to Clove after she was stolen.
What kind of people drug a pregnant woman for months? She was kept shackled to a bed, for Christ’s sake. I can’t even conjure up in my mind what the two of them have been through this past year.
My eyelids grow heavy and I give in to my exhaustion, but I don’t sleep. Instead, my mind travels back to this morning as I sat there trying to soak up all the information I was given. And then... the phone call we received from the FBI.
By the time they arrived at Tina’s house, she, Clove, and the baby were gone. My brother was found on the front porch with not one, but two gunshot wounds; one to his stomach, the other in his left arm.
He’s alive in a hospital in Mississippi, under constant surveillance by the FBI. That’s all I know at this point, all I care to know. A big part of me wishes like hell he was dead and a small part of me is thankful he’s not. I really shouldn’t give two fucks if he lives or dies, but for some fucked up reason, I do.
I need to look him in the eye, this crazy motherfucker who looks exactly like me, and ask him, why? Why would he do this? But mostly to make sure he pays for what he has done. I should love my brother; we should have grown up the best of friends, bonding with each other’s families. Having Sunday dinners together. Guy’s nights out. Now we will never bond, never be close. Instead of doing all the normal things brothers do with each other, he did the unmentionable. He stole my life from me. Stole my wife, my child. That is something I can never forgive.
“Turner.”
I’m startled when my mom gently places her arm on my shoulder. I look up at her fragile form standing above me. She looks so distraught and consumed by guilt.
“Mom.”
I go to stand but she stops me.
“Stay seated, son. Bill and I are just going to go check on the baby. Did you want to come with us?”
Her plea is as clear as day. She wants me to go, but I can’t. I wouldn’t even begin to know what to do or say.
“I can’t. I don’t want to leave Clove.”
“I understand.”
Her loving hand squeezes my shoulder.
“You call me if they come out and tell you anything, Turner,” Bill requests when he stands.
“Of course I will,” I say softly.
Bill reaches for his phone in his pocket.
“We will be back as soon as we can. I’m going to call Zack to and see how he’s holding up,” he says as I watch them both walk away.
Zack has been down at the police station making sure both his mother and her ex-husband Caleb are processed through the system without any errors at all.
Once they are out of sight, my gaze drifts back to the closed door that separates me from the one person I need to see. I just need to make sure she is really here.
I stand up, my body aching from lack of sleep, stretching my tired limbs before I begin to pace the floor again.
Following the urge to do something to try and keep myself busy, I end up in the waiting room. I halt the minute I step in and look at the television hanging on the wall.
“Son of a bitch!”
On the screen is a shot of all the reporters, cameras, and television crews camped outside of the hospital. Fucking assholes. No way in hell will I let them anywhere near my family.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” a voice says from the shadows on my left.
“Jesus, Martinez! You scared me. How long have you been here?” I ask.
“About fifteen minutes or so. Zack is with Krista, he’ll be in here soon.”
I sit down next to him in a soft, plush chair, stretching my legs out in front me.
“Those bloodsuckers are fucking nuts out there. There are hundreds of them. Don’t they know none of us will tell them shit? As if all of us haven’t been through enough, especially Clove, and here they are.”
“That’s one of the biggest reasons we wouldn’t let you go with us when we found out where Tina was taking Clove,” he says, flicking his hand at the television.
At first I was stark raving pissed when they wouldn’t let me go with them. I understood their reasoning, to a certain point, but all I wanted was to see my wife, to hold her. Against my will, I went home, showered, and waited. I hate the word wait. I have been waiting for a whole damn year to see my wife. If I never hear that word again for as long as I live, it will still never be long enough.
Martinez continues on, shaking his head.
“That’s how it works. Your story is unique, and they want to get the word out. A lot of them will clear once the chief gives a statement later this morning, which I need to talk to you about, by the way.”
I’m enraged. Fuck this shit! I don’t want them to know a damn thing.
“How the hell did they even know she was found? Never mind, I really don’t want to know. Tell whoever to do whatever they need to do to get them the hell out of here.”
“We’ll take care of all of that.”
Good, I think to myself, but nod instead.
“Hey.”
We both look up to see Zack standing in the doorway as he strolls in and sits on the couch opposite from us.
“Hey,” I say back.
This is the first time I have seen him since he left to set up camp or whatever the hell they call it at the motel where they found Clove.
“She’s beautiful, Turner.” Zack says with a slight smile lifting the corners of his mouth. I rub my sweaty hands up and down my thighs, knowing he is talking about my baby girl.
“I took some pictures of her on my phone if you want to see her.”
Do I want to see what she looks like? Maybe seeing her will get my mind off of not being able to see my wife. Scratching my head, I lean forward, stumbling over what I want to ask first.
“Do they know if she is all right? I mean, have they said anything?”
He shakes his head no.
“Krista is with her, though. They’ve been letting her hold her. She’s going to be fine, I know she is. You have to believe it too, man. If anything, that little girl is a fighter just like her mom and dad, and she is going to be absolutely perfect.”
How the hell he can sit there and be so sure is beyond me. I have never been more envious of another person as I am right now of Zack. He’s touched my daughter, more than likely held her. Me? I’ve missed the first several months of her life.
Why am I even thinking this way? Jesus Christ, I am so damned tired. All I want is to get my family and escape from the entire godforsaken world. Go somewhere, just the three of us, so we can be a family.
My hand shakes as Zack leans in and places his phone in my grasp. I clench it tightly, nerves prickling my skin everywhere knowing that with a small swipe of a screen, I will be looking at the tiny little human Clove and I made together.
I swipe the screen and there she is, her sleeping form cradled closely to Krista. I can’t even form adequate thoughts. All I can do is stare.
She has a ton of dark brown hair similar to my own. Her nose is small and shaped just like her mother’s. Her pouty little lips are so tiny. Her small fingers are bunched up in a fist. My world is turned upside down in the best way possible and I cannot believe we have a daughter.
“She’s like a ray of sunshine in all of this darkness, isn’t she?” I ask, never once removing my eyes from her.
God, I cannot control my emotions anymore when I think about everything I have missed with her so far; all the doctor visits that Clove and I should have gone to together; hearing her heartbeat for the first time; Clove and I deciding if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. I missed seeing her come into this world, watching her take her first breath, changing her diapers, feeding her, talking to her. Every fucking thing. I have missed it all.
I start to cry, not caring about a damned thing except being the best father I can be for this precious little girl who I have yet to meet. She already has me wrapped around her finger just by looking at her. I won’t miss anything ever again because this angel, a gift from God, will never be out of my sight again.
Clove and I should be relishing in all of this together, but in all likelihood, we won’t be. There is still so much for us to get through. My love for her will never fail; under no circumstances will it waver. I have no clue how she feels, or what she is thinking. Will she want me and need me like I still need her? Like I need both of my girls? Will we ever be whole again?
“Turner.”
Zack speaks softly as I start to calm down, thankful they both gave me the time I needed to grieve and get this all out.
“I’m good. It’s just all too overwhelming, you know? I feel like I should be there to meet her for the first time with Clove by my side. So much has been taken away from us. I won’t let them take away my memory of meeting my daughter for the first time. And I want my wife with me when I do.”
I hand him his phone back, pausing mid-way.
“Can you screenshot that and send it to me, please?” I ask, then walk into the adjoining bathroom.
I splash cold water on my face several times, trying to calm myself down. It’s welcome, but it does nothing to help with the emotional overload running through me. I need to see my wife, goddamn it. What the hell is taking so long? They have been in there for fucking hours and no one has gone in or out. I dry my hands, deciding then and there I am going to demand some answers.
When I step out of the bathroom, my mother, Bill, and everyone else including the doctor I saw enter her room several hours ago are all standing there. I approach them with trepidation.
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, Mr. Calloway,” says the doctor. “Have a seat, please. There are a few things I would like to discuss with you about your wife before you see her.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you just said everything was all right?”
“Physically, yes, she is fine. Better than I would have expected after everything she has been through. It’s more her mental state I am worried about. Please, let’s take a seat so we can talk about a few things. I can only imagine how anxious you, well all of you, are to see her.”
All of us take a seat as the early morning light starts to make its appearance through the windows. Someone, I’m not sure who, turns off the television. The room becomes eerily quiet in the wee hours of the morning.
“You all need to tread carefully when you see her. I won’t allow any questions right now,” the doctor says once we get settled, directing his attention to Zack and Martinez, who give him an understanding look.
“She also needs her daughter. I will find out what is going on with her as soon as we are finished up here. I have her lightly sedated so she can get some rest; however, she is a very stubborn woman.”
Light laughter fills this room, all of us giving each other knowing looks. That’s my wife, I want to say, but I don’t. The doctor begins to talk again and I turn my attention back to him. The sooner he’s finished, the quicker I can see her.
“I’m not quite sure how to say this next part so I’m just going to say it. I don’t know the entire story, only what I have been told by the paramedics who brought her in here and from Clove herself. However...”
His demeanor changes entirely. He’s struggling with what he has to say. I, on the other hand, know exactly what is bothering him.
“She doesn’t know I’m alive, does she?”
The doctor looks at me with a mixture of relief and consternation.
“No, Mr. Calloway. I’m afraid she doesn’t.”
I close my eyes in pain.
“Why don’t we go into my office, and we can talk about what comes next?” he says kindly.
Everyone makes excuses to leave. Bill states that he is going to go see Clove. Zack, my mother, and Krista go to check on Journey, and Martinez goes home for some much-needed rest. I follow the doctor down the hall to his office. He sits behind his desk and indicates a chair across from him for me to sit as well. His next words throw me for a loop.
“It’s impossible to know at this point the kind of difficulty your wife is going to have with trying to cope with this trauma. She’s perfectly healthy,” he reassures me, seeing my worried look. “It’s her state of mind I’m concerned about.”
“What are you trying to say? That my wife isn’t herself? I’m not a doctor here, so help me out a little bit.”
“She needs to feel safe, to be in an environment where good memories surround her. She needs support. Now with that being said, she’s obviously one hell of a fighter. Who knows, she may come out of this fine, but she may come out angry, and blame herself. I’m just advising you to take it slow with her. Don’t push her to talk about what she has been through. Let her do it on her own.”
His advice stings like a son of a bitch. I drop my head, holding back the tears that want to spill out. Will my wife ever be the same again? Will she pull away from me? I refuse to believe it. We belong together, and I will do everything I can to make her feel safe, happy, and to let her know how very much I love her.
I clear my throat, pressing the palms of my hands to my eyes. I have an overpowering urge to take her in my arms and smell her just to know she’s real. To just fucking look at her.
“I don’t mean to sound callous or disrespectful, but please, can this be discussed later? I haven’t seen my wife in over a year; I need to see her with my own eyes to know this is really her.”
He pulls open a drawer at the side of his desk, handing me a card. I clutch it in the palm of my hand as I stand up.
“Here’s a number to a colleague of mine, a psychiatrist. She’s wonderful. I’m going to prep her on everything you have shared with me. She’ll be in to talk to Clove as soon as she can.”