Belle Pointe

Please, God…

When Anne was wheeled out of the recovery room it wasn’t Buck who appeared instantly at her side. It was Marcie Frederick. Anne had no strength—or heart—to greet her. She still reeled from the news delivered by her doctor in recovery as she regained consciousness.

Miscarriage. Her baby, gone forever.

“So, how’re they treating you, sweetie?”

Anne felt a tear leak out of the corner of her eye. “I can’t say I recommend this place.”

“I know, darlin’.” Marcie lifted her hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”

“I d-don’t think I can b-bear it, Marcie,” she whispered brokenly. “I wanted this baby more than anything in this world.”

“Of course, you did.” Marcie dug in her purse for a tissue and gently blotted at Anne’s tears. “I feel silly for not guessing you were pregnant. After three pregnancies myself, I should have recognized the signs.”

“Nobody knew. I wanted to wait until all chance of m-miscarriage was over.” She felt another overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m sorry. I just can’t—”

“It’s okay, you just go right ahead and cry, honey. You’ve had more than enough trauma tonight to make anyone cry. That was a bad crash. I’m just thankful you both survived.”

Her mind was fuzzy, but she had no trouble recalling the accident. Buck, angry and speeding. The deer appearing out of nowhere. The horror as the car tumbled down into that steep gully. Anne closed her eyes. “Is Buck okay?”

“He’s banged up, but okay,” Marcie said as an orderly appeared. She didn’t volunteer details and Anne didn’t ask. Nobody spoke as they rode in the elevator to the third floor. Anne had been told that most patients recovered quickly from a miscarriage, but she’d taken a bump on her head in the crash and a few scrapes and bruises, so she would probably be staying in hospital for a day or two.

“Here we are,” the orderly said, maneuvering the gurney out of the elevator. “Third floor. We’ll just get you tucked in all nice and cozy, then the nurse will get a reading of your vitals and you can take a nice long rest.”

When he was gone, Marcie looked at her watch. “I expect Monk to show up any minute now. He’s with Buck on another floor and I made him promise to call us as soon as he can get away.” When there was no response from Anne, she asked, “Do you recall much of what actually happened in the accident?”

“I had my seat belt on, but my head hit the side window and I think I was out for a minute or two.”

“Time and details have a way of becoming distorted in a situation like that,” Marcie remarked.

“I remember enough.” Anne’s gaze was focused on the view from the window. “People were on the scene right away and the EMTs had me out and on a stretcher pretty quickly, I think.” She paused, remembering. “All I was aware of is blood…so much blood…”

“And Buck?”

“He was unconscious. I remember that. He didn’t have his seat belt on.”

Marcie clucked with disapproval. “That guy! What was he thinking? The high muckety-mucks at the Jacks aren’t going to be happy to hear that.” She picked up Anne’s chart and studied it with a professional air. She was a nurse, but hadn’t worked since having her first child. “They didn’t give me much information while I was waiting for you in the O.R.”

“Will I live?” Anne asked. Not that she cared at the moment. She didn’t care about anything.

“Yes, darlin’. And you’ll have more babies, too. Don’t you fret.” Marcie slipped the chart back into a holder on the wall. “I just wanted to make sure nothing was removed to keep that from happening. You and Buck can still have a houseful of young’uns.”

“I don’t think that’s in Buck’s life plan,” Anne said, turning her face to the window.

“Aww, no man thinks he wants a baby until he gets a look at that precious little face.”

“Buck is different, Marcie. He really doesn’t want any children.”

“Well, you could fool me. He’s so good with kids. They hover around him like bees to a honey pot wherever he shows up.”

“Those are other people’s children,” Anne said bitterly.

She saw the look on Marcie’s face and regretted saying anything. Fortunately, they were interrupted when a nurse appeared to get Anne settled. She was told how to use the remote which operated the television set, how to lower or raise the bed, how to turn a light on and off and how to summon help, should she need it. Since anybody could have figured it all out without help, Anne tuned the woman out long before the monologue was over.

“While you were in surgery your daddy called,” Marcie said when the nurse left. “He and your new stepmother were frantic. They were as surprised as the rest of us to hear about your pregnancy. Even though they know you’re okay, they’ll want to hear it from you. I told them you’d probably need to sleep off the anesthetic before making any calls.”

“That’s good. Thank you.” She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She turned her head to look outside. The view framed in the wide window was spectacular. Although it was long after midnight, high-rises were fully lit and traffic still flowed on the streets. “It’s so late, Marcie. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Shoot, girl, if I wasn’t here with you, I wouldn’t have anything to do.”

Anne managed a weak smile. “Tell that to somebody who doesn’t know you have three kids under six.”

“And they’re with their nanny, so don’t go worrying about them. You just worry about getting yourself on your feet again. The sooner you’re up and healthy, the sooner you can try again.”

Anne didn’t have to reply to that. Marcie’s cell phone buzzed. “It’s Monk,” she said, looking at the caller ID. She stepped outside the room, but Anne could hear bits and pieces of the call, but she had little interest. She was again gazing out the window when Marcie came back into the room.

“Well, looks like the two of you are in the same boat,” Marcie said with a determinedly cheerful smile. “Buck’s basically okay, but his knee took a bad hit. Also, he’s got a nasty concussion, which is the reason he hasn’t been up here checking on you.”

“Frankly, I don’t want to see him, Marcie. It’s because of his recklessness that I’ve lost my baby.”

“You can’t be sure about that.” Marcie moved closer and took one of Anne’s cold hands in both of hers. “Didn’t you say you were spotting at the hotel before you even got into the car?”

“Yes. And I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t.”

“Oh, hon…” Marcie sighed and squeezed Anne’s hands. “Before I had my first child, I had a miscarriage, too. It happens. I was an emotional wreck, too. I cried for weeks. Even now, today, I think about that baby and wonder what he would look like, what personality he’d have. So I can understand your heart is breaking. But this is a time when you need Buck and he needs you. He’s suffered a loss, too. You know how these jocks are. Even when they’re dying inside they don’t whine, they don’t cry, they don’t get emotional. I understand you want to crawl in a hole and pull your grief in with you, but right now, you and Buck need each other.”

“Maybe that’s the way it is with you and Monk, Marcie, but Buck isn’t going to grieve over losing this baby,” she said sadly. “I actually think he’s going to be relieved.”

Marcie stared at her in amazement. “You can’t believe that.”

Anne tucked her hands beneath the blanket and wearily turned her face to the window again. “I’m not good company right now, Marcie. Please…just—” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Will you please go out to the nurses’ station and tell them I don’t want any calls and I don’t want to see anybody?”

Marcie studied her in silence for a long moment. “Yes, of course. If that’s what you want. Your doctor has been pretty effective in keeping quiet that you’re here, so if your stay is short, you’ll probably be gone before the media figures out a way to bug you with a visit.”

Out in the hall, the hospital intercom paged a doctor by some anonymous number. Anne looked wistfully out the window. “Don’t you wish they could figure out a way we could be anonymous in this business, Marcie?”

“Most of the time, we wives are anonymous. It’s the players who can’t even go to the bathroom without somebody rubbernecking.” She bent and picked up a jacket from the small settee. “Look, I’m not wishing Buck any grief, but maybe it’s not all bad that this accident forces him to hang around the house awhile. The two of you can use the time to work through your problems.”

“There’s only one thing wrong with that plan, Marcie,” Anne said quietly. “Since I’m no longer pregnant, Buck considers our problem solved. You’re a good friend and I’m grateful you’re here tonight. Thank you for that.”

“Well, what are friends for, darlin’?” Then, with a resigned sigh, Marcie crossed her arms. “Okay, I can tell the nurses that you don’t want any other visitors, but you have to see Buck.” She held up a hand when Anne opened her mouth to argue and repeated, “You have to see Buck…for this reason. If I go out there with your no visitors message, the whole hospital would soon be abuzz with the juicy news that the wife of the St. Louis Jacks star pitcher, who was in the accident with him and has just suffered a miscarriage, has barred him from her room. How long do you think it would take that to reach talk radio and the six-o’clock news? They’ll have a field day with it, Anne. And it won’t stop here in St. Louis. Doggone it, they’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. You know I’m right.”

“I hate living in a fishbowl, Marcie,” Anne cried. “I hate it!”

“It’s not for wimps,” Marcie agreed. As the wife of one of the team managers, she knew firsthand how hard it was to have a private life. For every move a player made, he had to keep in mind that there was someone watching.

Anne sighed deeply. “I guess I have to see him.”

“You do.” Marcie leaned over and kissed her cheek. “One look at that guy’s pretty face and, trust me, you’ll feel a lot better.”

On Sunday mornings, Franklin Marsh enjoyed making breakfast for his wife. He was frying bacon for breakfast when he heard the phone ring. They’d both been anxious since learning of Anne’s accident sometime after midnight. Thinking it was early for calls, he quickly removed the skillet from the hot burner, turned off the stove and by the time he reached the bedroom, Beatrice was already talking. He knew instantly by the look on her face that it was Anne.

“Yes, he’s just starting breakfast, Anne. Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice. We’ve been so worried. How are you?” With a hand on her heart, Beatrice sank down on the edge of the bed to listen. They’d both been holding their breaths waiting to hear from his daughter.

“It was such a close call, Anne, but thank God you’re okay.” She paused, nodding slowly. “Yes, he’s right here.” Reluctantly, she handed the phone to Franklin. “She wants to speak to you.”

Franklin took the phone and sat down on the side of the bed beside Beatrice. “Hey, Annie-girl. You gave us a good scare last night, love.”

“I know, Dad, but I’m all right. Is this too early? Did I wake anybody?”

“Oh, no, we’ve been up awhile, both of us. Are you sure you’re okay? Marcie told us about…everything.”

“Uh-huh. I’m just…” He heard a catch in her voice. “…just so sad.”

“Of course you are. We’re both as disappointed as we can be. I know how much you wanted a baby. Buck must be hurting, too. How’s he doing?”

“He’s okay. I don’t know if you’ve heard the details of the accident yet. It’s already all over the news here.”

“And by the time I get to work, it’ll be the talk of the town here,” he predicted. “Tallulah’s favorite son doesn’t do anything that’s not reported up one side and down the other.”

“I wanted you to know some details since the media will distort it somehow.” She drew a shaky breath. “Buck was speeding, which won’t be a surprise to anybody. He swerved to avoid a deer that just appeared out of nowhere. It’s kind of murky, but I remember the car went careening down a steep embankment. I had my seat belt buckled, but Buck didn’t. He has a concussion and his knee is injured. I haven’t seen him yet so I don’t know how bad it is.”

“Uh-oh, that could mean big trouble for the Jacks if he’s out any length of time.”

“I guess.” He heard her take another unsteady breath and after a moment, she added in a different tone, “He should have thought of that before being so reckless.”

Franklin met Beatrice’s concerned gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay, Anne?”

“I will be, Dad. Don’t worry. I…I just haven’t been able to…to…” Her voice caught on a sob. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if you would like some company.”

Surprised, Franklin again looked at Beatrice, who was watching him with anxious eyes, her fingers pressed to her lips. “If by company, you mean you and Buck, nothing could be nicer.”

“Not Buck, just me, Dad. I…I’d like to come for a visit, if that’s okay.”

“Well, sure, Annie-girl. But with Buck’s injury—”

“Buck has all of the St. Louis fan base and the whole Jacks organization rallying around him,” she said grimly. “He doesn’t need me. So I’d like to come for a visit if it won’t inconvenience you. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying.”

“Come away. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, you know that.” He stood up, now alarmed by her tone. “You sound…” He hesitated, worried about pushing her and maybe changing her mind about coming. Bea would kill him. “Are you sure it’s the right thing to do—leaving Buck by himself at such a…well, such a delicate time? He’s suffered a loss, too, you know.”

“We’ll talk about that when I get there. I just needed to let you know before making any flight reservations. I’ll probably be discharged tomorrow morning. Once I get home, it’ll take me a while to pack. I don’t know which flight or my arrival time, but you needn’t worry about meeting me at the airport. I’ll rent a car and—”

“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” he told her. “I’ll pick you up no matter what time it is, day or night.” He glanced at Beatrice, who was nodding eagerly, pointing to herself. “We’ll both be at the airport. Just let us know when.”

“I appreciate this, Dad,” Anne said in a husky tone. “I know it’s short notice, but—”

He heard the catch in her voice. “Anne, a miscarriage can be emotionally devastating. You and Buck—”

“I need some time away from Buck, Dad. Don’t ask me to explain just now.” And before he had a chance to say more, she hung up.

“What’s the matter?” Beatrice asked urgently. “Tell me.”

Still holding the phone in his hand and looking troubled, Franklin shook his head. “I’m not sure, sweetheart. She wouldn’t say anything except she needed some time away from Buck.”

“And she’s coming here?” With a stunned look, Beatrice put both hands to her cheeks.

“That’s why she called. She was apologetic as it’s short notice, but she’s made up her mind.” He frowned. “She’s in an emotional state, Bea. I wonder—”

“I knew we should have left last night! The minute her friend called, we should have gotten a flight. We’d be there for her right now, Franklin. She’s all alone.”

“Hindsight,” Franklin said.

Beatrice stood at the window, looking out. “I know this is an awful thing to say and I grieve for her loss, but I’m thankful for an opportunity to have her visit. I had only a few hours with her on our wedding day before Buck whisked her back to St. Louis.”

“He sure doesn’t spend any time in his hometown if he can avoid it,” Franklin said, rising to go to her. “And even though the circumstances aren’t ideal, it’s—as you say—an opportunity for you to get to know her.”

With her hands clasped and pressed against her heart, Beatrice looked ready to cry. “I want that so much.”

“I know, my darling.” He went to her thinking to comfort her with a hug. Only when he tipped up her chin to kiss her did he see the tears.

Two

It was midmorning that same day before Buck made it to Anne’s room. She was awakened by a light kiss on her forehead. She opened her eyes to find him leaning close, fumbling for her hand. She evaded his touch by clutching the blanket.

“Hi,” he said.

She felt oddly detached, studying his face. One cheek was bruised and he had a black eye. Above it was a sizeable bandage covering what she assumed was the blow that caused his concussion. Day-old stubble darkened his jaws, giving him a rakish look that the nurses probably found sexy. “Hello, Buck.”

“Finding a way to visit my wife around here is harder than trying to finagle a pass to get out of jail,” he said with a smile. “Good thing I know some people.”

He was going to play it with humor, she thought. Okay. Whatever. “Should you be walking around? Monk seemed concerned about your knee.”

“Like they say, I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.” His smile was a little off-center, aimed at charming her. “But I’m okay. How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine.” She turned to look out the window. “How’s the Porsche?”

“Totaled,” he said wryly. Then a pause. “Anne, I—”

“The staff at the hospital’s buzzing over you being here.” She watched a couple of birds—blue jays, she decided—quarreling in flight. “More than one person has told me we’re both lucky to be alive.”

“Yeah. It was a close call…and stupid on my part. I was speeding and I didn’t have my seat belt on. Thank God you did.”

“The Jacks will no doubt think of some way to exonerate you.”

“But will you?”

“I don’t know, Buck.”

He put out a hand and caught her chin. “Anne, please look at me.” Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his. “I’m sorry. I know those words won’t begin to be enough for you, but I am so sorry. I wouldn’t have this happen for the world.”

“You wouldn’t?” Her eyes locked with his. “Really? Even to rid yourself of a baby you didn’t want?”

He was shaking his head. “I know that’s how it sounded and I wish I had those few minutes in the hotel to live over again. I wish I’d left when you asked me to. I wish I hadn’t driven so fast.” He made a distressed sound. “I…you…I guess I was just floored when I heard you were pregnant. I know that’s no excuse—”

“You’re right. It’s no excuse.” She turned away again. “So what’s the point of talking? I’ve miscarried. The baby’s gone. I accept that you’re sorry. It’s just—” She shrugged. “I guess it just seems…too little, too late.”

“I need you to forgive me for this, Anne,” he said. “I want us to go home and spend some time talking. I want us to—”

She made an impatient sound. “It’s always what you want, isn’t it, Buck? Well, right now I really don’t care what you want. I don’t think you even begin to suspect what has happened to us—to our marriage. I know you made it plain that you didn’t want a baby, but I honestly thought that you’d come around once you knew we had created a child. I was wrong about that and you can rest easy that you won’t have to cope with my silly wishes for a baby ever again.”

She felt a wild urge to throw the covers aside. She wanted to go at him nose to nose to tell him exactly how completely beyond redemption he was to her now. Instead, she made an effort to draw a calming breath. “I want you to leave now, Buck, before we both say things we’ll probably regret.”

His face had gone pale at her attack. Shaken, he said, “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Too bad.” She sighed then and gave him a sad look. “Are we strangers, Buck? After six years of marriage, do we actually know each other? Did you really not realize how important it was to me to have a child?”

“I don’t think I did,” he said slowly, looking like a man walking a path through a minefield. “I know that sounds selfish and egotistical, but we can work this out, Anne.”

“I don’t know if I want to work it out.”

“You don’t mean that.” He paused, choosing his words cautiously. “I mean, you’re upset and you have a right to be. When we get home and you’ve had a chance to rest and…you know, sort of recover, we’ll talk.”

She gave him a straight look. “Recover from losing my baby? Just like that?”

“Not ‘just like that.’ Of course not.” Looking exhausted, he rubbed a hand over his beard. “I was told you’re going to be released tomorrow morning. Is that right?”

She was so emotionally spent that it was a moment before she answered. “I don’t know. I’d leave now, but my doctor insists that I stay another day. Which is irrelevant as far as you’re concerned. The Jacks aren’t going to let you leave.”

“I want to take you home.” He shifted on his feet, squared his shoulders and got a stubborn look on his face. “I mean, I’m going to take you home. They—the Jacks—do want to keep me in here, but I’m leaving when you do, so don’t go without me. As ticked off as you are, I wouldn’t put it past you to check out early.”

“What’re you going to do to stop me? Camp out in the parking lot?” She sighed, too tired for sarcasm. “Besides, you can’t drive with that knee. You’re in pain. I know the signs whether you admit it or not.” She could tell by the strain pulling at his mouth and the fact that he was sweating. “If you’ve really got a concussion, I don’t think it’s smart for you to be driving. If you don’t worry about your own safety, then I care about mine. Marcie will come for me if I call her.”

“I’ll hire a limo and driver. We’ll go home together. Then we’ll talk.”

“A limousine?” He blinked at the sudden fury on her face. “Do. Not. Hire. A limousine. I repeat, Buck, do not do it. I hate the publicity this has already stirred up. All I need is to get discharged and find a forty-foot limo with a driver waiting to take me away in style. I’m leaving to escape that kind of smothering publicity.”

He frowned as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

She closed her eyes and looked away again, unwilling to get into it with him now about her plans. “I’m tired, Buck. I don’t have the energy to talk about this anymore. You can go home with me tomorrow morning…if you’re able to leave. Otherwise, I will ask Marcie.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked.

She turned to look at him. “I don’t want more gossip, so that’s the way it has to be.”

“Then I’ll be here,” he said, speaking with a clamped jaw. “Come hell or high water, I’ll be here.”

She waved a hand weakly. “Whatever, Buck.”

“I’m sorry, Anne.” When the words came out huskily, he cleared his throat. “I swear to God I’ll make it up to you.”

She turned back to the window without speaking and after a minute, she heard him leave.

Buck was in mortal pain when he got back to his room. In order to get his doctors—and the Jacks on-staff sports medicine physician—to allow him a visit to his wife, he’d finally agreed to being pushed in a wheelchair by an orderly. Turned out, the guy was a Jacks fan and Buck bribed him with prime seat tickets to park him outside the door and wait. Somehow, in spite of his throbbing knee, he had managed to limp to Anne’s bedside. He had been determined not to be in a wheelchair when they talked.

But he was glad to be wheeled back to his room. The effort had taken a toll and he was shaken by Anne’s reaction. She might never forgive him for this. He didn’t know how he’d manage to drive her home tomorrow, but he was determined to do it. No way was he going to let her check herself out of the hospital and him not be there. Judging from her mood today, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t go to a hotel to keep from looking at him. With his knee throbbing now, he was on the point of buzzing for a nurse when a huge black man strolled into the room.

“Time for your meds, Mr. Whitaker.”

Buck made an attempt to look less than half-dead. “Call me Buck. Mr. Whitaker is my big brother.”

“And you can call me Eddie.” He looked more like a wrestler than a nurse, but he moved with the grace of a dancer. He held out the tiny paper cup. “I brought you something that’ll take you to paradise…temporarily. Considering how you look, it should be welcome.” He watched Buck toss it back and offered water from a decanter on the bedside table to swallow it down.