Hope from the Ocean: 75

Blair sat in bed, propped up on pillows, looking through the photo album that she had made for Todd when he first returned.  Water came to her eyes as she turned the pages, and noted to herself, yet again, not only what they had, but what he'd missed.  She finally closed the book, and tipped her head back, rubbing circles on her belly.  "Jewel, you're so special to us.  I hope you'll always know that, my baby girl."

She looked at the clock.  It was already 9:45.  She didn't want to become anxious; it hadn't been that long that he was gone from her.  She swung her feet over the bed, and stood, carrying the photo albums to the far side of the room and placing them on the desk.  The doors to the balcony were closed, but she could see through the glass the manner in which the moon was making patterns on the French-style windows.  She walked to them, and stood, surveying the property.  "He always did know how to buy property, that's for certain.  And see what your Daddy bought this time?  It is beautiful, isn't it?"

She heard a noise on the lower level, and pretty certain it was Todd, she fought the urge to run down to him.  She didn't want to let on that she was deathly worried for him the entire time he was gone.  She didn't want him to see that she had any doubts about him being able to take care of himself or handle whatever came their way.  She went back to the bed and sat down, putting the blanket over her, and just waited.

After a few minutes, she heard laboring footsteps on the stairs.  Thinking he was tired and ready for sleep, she still waited, in her place, with his spot next to her ready to be occupied.  Finally, she heard him round the top of the stairs, but bump against the wall, and she panicked.  Throwing the covers off, she went out to the hallway, and he was there, on the ground, sitting against the wall, with he knees up and his head between them.

Her heart leaped into her throat.  "Todd?"  She said, quietly going toward him.  To the best of her ability with the baby in the way, she started to get down to be near him, and he held up his hand, as if to stop her. She watched as he struggled to standing, while she asked, "What's the matter, My Love?  What is it?" and he seemed to be only able to focus on getting to his feet and had no answer for her.  "What . . . Todd?"

As he finally got to his feet, he fell toward her, and she struggled to keep from falling herself, but then she felt him catch himself with his feet, and wrap his arms around her, his lifeline finally in his hands.  She went silent, and held him, and waited.  He needs me.  Whatever it is, he needs me, and God, he's clinging for dear life . . . please, help him.

Finally, he said, "I'm seeing things."

She whispered, without letting go, "What things?"

"Dead things.  Peter."

She swallowed, and said, "In your head?"

"I don't know."

"Let go for a minute Todd, I promise I'm not leaving you, I just . . . let's go into the bedroom.  We don't want to scare the kids."

He did as she asked, and she caught glimpse of his face.  He was ashen, tired, stricken.  She led him to the bed, and knelt down to undo his shoelaces.  She said, "Help me get these shoes off you, okay?"

He did what she told him to, and kicked them off gently, landing them with a thud against the rug.  She said, "Now, swing your feet up, and we'll talk about this.  You can tell me everything.  Tell me, My Love."

He was lying back now, on the bed, his head resting on the pillow, his eyes closed.  She wondered for a moment if it were not best he just sleep, but she remained alert anyway, sitting by him and watching.  After a long silence, he said, "I saw him.  Peter."

"No, My Love, you didn't."

"Oh, but I did, Blair, I did.  I saw him everywhere.  I saw him driving the cab.  I saw him on the street corner.  I saw him coming out of a corner store.  I saw him at the airport, and on the plane."

She cringed, and took a breath.  "But, you know it wasn't Peter.  You were imagining him.  Out of fear?  Maybe going to that clinic just was too much?"

"That's just it.  I got out of there as fast as I could, so fast, that I forgot to pay the registration fee, and Timothy had to call me back.  I turned the taxi around, went back.  He was there, in the lobby.  Staring at me.  He was so old, but so . . . evil.  The evil was all over his face."

Blair admitted to herself the terror she was feeling about Todd's mental state as she listened.  Determined not to let him see her fear, she got up and began to putter about the room, picking up and organizing some clothes.

After watching her a few minutes, he said, "Blair?  I know you're afraid of the same thing I am.  I'm losing my mind, right?"

She rushed to his side and got back on the bed.  "No, no I'm not.  I was just cleaning.  It's that nesting thing.  It hits me at all hours.  You didn't see him, Todd.  You know he's dead.  He died in front of you."

He went very quiet.  Then he said, "Yeah, he did.  So it is my mind, and it is a hallucination, and I am nuts.  Certifiable."

"No.  You're just overwhelmed by the past.  You've dealt with a lot these last few months, Todd.  It's one thing after another with you.  You don't seem to be able to have a break from it and just rest your mind.  It's never long enough of a rest."

"I just wanted to be back here, with you, the kids.  I just had to be back here."

She leaned over and rested herself on his chest, and his arms closed around her.  "I know, and you're here, and you're safe with us.  Whatever happened, well, chalk it up to being tired, drained and in a place that has very bad memories for you.  Ireland, the cottage, the cliffs, the clinic.  There's no reason to doubt yourself right now.  To me, it all makes sense.  You're just tired, Todd, emotionally, and you need to rest."

By the time she had finished her last few words, she could tell by his breathing that he was asleep.  She wasn't going to move or leave him, not until he said so.  Not until he was ready for her to.

***

At three in the morning, she felt herself moved and opened her eyes to see him sitting up at the edge of the bed.  He was still clothed, as he was when he'd first came in.  She sat up.

He said, "I woke you?  I'm sorry.  Tried not to."  He knew how tired she was getting, and that it was part of the later stages of her pregnancy.

"Who cares about that?  Not me."

He gave her the side-eye, over his shoulder, with a half-smile.  "Okay, then, not me, either."

She waited.  She reached out and touched his back, and caressed it.  "A dream?"

He nodded in the dark, but the moon's reflective glow allowed her to see the movement of him.

"Peter?"

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"No.  Strange."

"What do you mean?  Do you want to tell me?"

She saw his shoulders lift, and then depress.  She sat up behind him, and began to massage them.  He said, "At the foot of the bed."

"In the cottage?"

"No."

"The clinic?"

"No, here."

She gulped and hoped it wasn't loudly.  "He sure gets around."

He lightly laughed, and then said, "He was trying to tell me something."

She dreaded asking him, but she did anyway, as her fingers worked magic along the base of his neck.  "What is the message?"

"He's coming for me.  For my sons.  He wants the baby."

A chill ran from the base of her spine to the top of her head, and she shivered.  He turned toward her.  "I can't do this, I'm scaring you."

"I'm okay, just a little cold."

"Cold?" he said, surprised, and pulled the blanket around her and held her.

"That's better.  Don't stop talking, Todd, just tell me the rest.   You know talking about these dreams takes away their punch.  Remember mine, years back, about losing Max, but it was really you?"

He nodded, "That was a nightmare for sure."  Then his expression changed.  "Peter promised to take everything from me that I ever loved."

"Well the meaning's obvious.  The idea of Peter and what he did scares you.  You think it will take you away from us, if you lose your mind, or we stop loving you.  None of that is going to happen.  It's just a dream."

"His face. . . pure evil.  It's not like I remember it.  Older.  More depraved, or something, if that's even possible."

"Okay.  That makes sense, too.  He can't stay the age he was when he died, right?  Time passed."

"Yeah.  It's just, strange, that's all.  Like a warning?"

"It's you warning yourself.  When we get home, go and tell Ray about this."

"Oh believe me, I already plan on that.  Maybe when I leave here, it will stop.  Maybe it's this place, this fucking country.  Maybe Ireland has it in for me for mocking the accent and some of the residents all these years."

She took him in her arms, and slowly leaned them back onto the bed.  He ended up with his head above her breast, and his arm slung over Jewel.  He rubbed Blair's stomach where he thought he felt the pressure of the baby's foot, and marveled at how tiny it was, and how strong.

Blair caressed his face, his head, and his ears, and stroked his hair until he closed his eyes.  She said, "We're leaving tomorrow, you know that.  We'll get up, pack the kids and everyone, and leave here.  No regrets.  Now, sleep, My Love, and rest."

"Sing."

"Now?"

"Just a little."

Close your eyes and rest, your weary mind.  I promise, I will stay right here beside you.  Today, our lives are joined, became entwined.  I wish that you could know how much I love you . . .

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