Vulnerable Pieces (Cape Isle, #4): A Cape Isle Novel Page 15

  They took me into surgery yesterday and removed the fetus from my body. Isn’t that a strange word? Fetus. Like the child growing inside of me wasn’t even developed enough to have a name. Parker asked the hospital to preserve our baby’s body so that we could have a burial. I once again never said a word. I just stared as the tears rolled down his face.

  “Jenna, please talk to me,” Parker whispers, holding my good hand in both of his.

  I roll my head to the side and give him the same blank stare I’ve been giving him for the past few days now.

  “The doctor said there were no lasting injuries to your brain. Do you just not want to talk, baby?”

  I don’t answer. I look at his tired face for another second, before turning away to look out the window again. Maybe I’m being selfish, but what do these people want from me? Do they want me to be happy I’m here? Because I’m not. I’m numb. I drift in and out of consciousness, but I prefer the sleep. I’m so tired of looking at all of the faces that surround me. I’m tired of the pleading, sad looks everyone is giving me. If I were to talk, I would do it just to ask them what in the fuck they want from me. I wish they would just leave me alone. I just want to be left the hell alone.

  I pull my hand from his and shut my eyes, praying sleep will just take me.

  * * *

  “She’s still not talking Parker. I know you love her, but I think it’s best that she comes home with us.”

  That sounds like my mother’s voice, but I can’t be sure. I don’t open my eyes to check either. I keep them closed hoping that I will fall back into a dreamland where none of this is real.

  “No. You heard what the doctor said. The quicker she resumes normal life, the quicker she will adjust. I will stay with her every second of every day. I just want my Jenna back.”

  “We all do, son, but we have to think of what’s best for her.”

  That is definitely my dad’s voice. I would recognize it anywhere.

  “Her home is in Cape Isle. Her home is with me. We were happy and I know I can bring that back.”

  There is a long sigh before I hear my mother’s tired voice again. “Okay. I’m going to trust you on this, Parker.”

  Well, I guess I’m going back to Cape Isle. I don’t really give a shit where I am, as long as I can sleep.

  * * *

  They release me from the hospital on a Saturday. When they wheel me outside, I blink my eyes against the harsh sunlight. I can hear the birds chirping and people around me talking and laughing. It’s weird how your entire life can change in a blink of an eye, yet the world keeps spinning. I wish it would stop.

  Parker gets out of his car and comes to the side of my wheel chair. He takes my good arm and helps me up. Together we slowly walk to the passenger side door and I gingerly get in. Every movement hurts. Every step I take is pure fucking agony and I want to scream out in pain, but of course I don’t. I just grit my teeth and keep moving.

  “Are you okay?” Parker asks, once he gets me buckled in the car.

  That’s a stupid question. Do I look okay? I continue to just stare at him. He lets out a sigh and kisses my forehead, before shutting the door and walking around to his side.

  The drive to my house is filled with silence. Parker doesn’t try to engage me in conversation and I’m thankful for that because I really don’t want to hear his voice. I don’t want to hear him begging me again to talk.

  We pull up to the house a short time later and Parker gets out to come around to my side. He opens the door and I grab onto his out stretched hand. He slowly helps me stand and puts his arm around me, helping me up the driveway and into my house.

  Coconut greets us at the door and meows loudly when she sees me. Lexie came to visit me at the hospital the other day and told me she was coming over here twice a day to feed and give her water. I was thankful for that, but never told her so.

  Parker tries to steer me towards the living room, but I continue walking down the hallway. I just want my bed. I just want to sleep.

  I hear his long sigh, but continue to ignore him.

  He helps me sit on the side of my bed, before bending to remove my shoes and socks.

  “Are you hungry?”

  When he gets no response he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ll fix you something while you take a nap.”

  He adjusts the pillows on my bed and pulls down the comforter. He helps me get settled before he sits on the edge of the bed and looks at me with sad eyes. I can’t take that look anymore, so I close my eyes and block him out.

  “The day after tomorrow is the burial service.”

  Why is he telling me this? I already know that.

  I feel his hand softly touch my face, but I don’t react. I keep my eyes closed and hope that he goes away soon.

  “I love you, Freckles.”

  He sits there a minute longer. I guess he’s waiting for a response that will never come. How can he love me? How can he sit there and say that after I killed our child?

  He sighs again before I feel him stand from the bed. “I’ll wake you up in a little bit.”

  I wish he wouldn’t. I wish I could close my eyes and never have to open them again. Dream land is much better than reality.

  * * *

  I stare at myself in my bathroom mirror. This is the first time I’ve looked at my reflection since the wreck and I can’t find it in me to feel anything other than disgust.

  My face still has several lacerations, but the bruises are slowly fading. The rest of my body is much of the same. My right arm is in a large cast that extends from my hand to up past my elbow. My chest and ribs look like someone took a baseball bat to them. The bruising is dark and almost black in color. My stomach is flabby and no longer hard from where I was carrying our child. I look a fucking mess, but I don’t even care.

  “Do you need help?” Parker asks walking into the bathroom.

  He helped me out of my clothes a minute ago and started the shower, before going to find something to cover my cast with.

  I watch him through the mirror as he studies my body. His eyes look pained as he walks over to me and covers the cast with a trash bag. He doesn’t say anything else, as he sheds all of his clothes, except for his boxers, and helps me into the warm shower.

  Today is the burial service for the baby. I haven’t showered since I left the hospital the day before yesterday. All I’ve done is sleep and eat. Parker wakes me up and tries to get me out of the bed, but I refuse to move. He finally had enough this morning and told me I was either getting up on my own and showering or he was carrying me. I can feel him becoming frustrated with me more and more with each passing day, but what I can’t understand is why he’s still here. Why doesn’t he just leave? I know he has his own life to tend to. Why not just let me go to my parents’ house and let them deal with me?

  “Lean your head back, baby,” he says softly.

  I do as he says and I feel the warm water soaking my hair. I close my eyes and feel it hit my face. It burns as it gets in the cuts on my face, but I welcome the pain.

  I feel Parker’s hands run through my hair as he washes it several times. Once he’s done with that, he soaps up the wash cloth and washes my body. He does it gently, careful to avoid my broken ribs. He washes all of the soap off before helping me out and tenderly drying me off. He wraps the towel around my shoulders and uses another towel to dry his own body.

  He grabs my robe off of the door and helps me get my arms through it.

  “Lexie will be here in just a minute to help you get dressed and do your hair for the service.”

  He helps me sit down in front of the vanity in my bathroom.

  “Do you need anything?”

  I stare at him through the mirror again, wondering when he will finally get tired of these one sided conversations.

  I hear the doorbell ring and he gives me one last look, before disappearing into the bedroom.

  Lexie comes in a few minutes later. She looks at me through the mirror as
she takes the towel and dries my hair. Besides Parker and my parents, I think Lexie is the one who has visited me the most. She doesn’t try to get me to talk. She just rambles on about nothing. Occasionally she will ask a question, but when I don’t offer up an answer, she quickly moves on to something else.

  “I brought over one of my black dresses. It’s a maxi dress and I know it’ll look good on you. I figured you could wear those flat sandals you like so much with it. I’m not going to put any make-up on this beautiful face, because I know it’s still sore. I am going to do something with this hair and I’m just going to throw this out there, you really need a trim. These split ends are out of fucking control.”

  She takes my hair brush and softly runs it through my hair.

  “Your parents got here at the same time I did. Parker is with them in the living room. You can practically feel the hostility in the air out there. Your parents think you should go home with them, but I’m with Parker on this one, you need to be here in your home. We miss you at the bakery and I’m ready for you to come back. I need my best friend back.” She says the last part in a soft whisper.

  I stare at her reflection in the mirror. She gives me a gentle smile and lays her hand on my shoulders.

  “What’s going through that brain of yours, huh? You’re going to be okay, Jenna Hudson. You’re going to be fine.”

  She bends her neck and kisses me on top of my head. I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or me. I’m not sure anything is ever going to be fine ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Parker

  I LOOK OVER AT JENNA as Summer sits down beside her on the couch. We just got home from the memorial service. The entire time we were at the cemetery, Jenna never said a word and never once looked away from that small casket. I didn’t expect her to talk, but she never showed one ounce of emotion either and I think that’s what scares me the most. She’s not talking. She’s not crying. She’s just a fucking shell. I know everyone deals with things differently, but she’s really starting to fucking worry me. I’m scared to death she won’t come back from this.

  “How’s she doing?” Grant asks, as he walks up to me and hands me a drink. I take a sip and let the whiskey burn down the back of my throat.

  “The same.”

  “She still hasn’t said anything?”

  “Not a peep.” I look back over at her now and see that she’s staring out the window. She looks a thousand miles away.

  “How about you?”

  I look back over at Grant, but keep one eye on Jenna in case she needs something. “What about me?”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, taking another long drink.

  “You’re not fine, Parker.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “Because I’m your brother and I love you and I want to make sure you’re going to be okay,” he says in a low voice.

  Before I can respond, Summer joins us. Grant puts his arm around his wife and pulls her close. I try to keep my eyes diverted away from her stomach. I love Summer, but it hurts to look at her right now and remember that Jenna and I no longer have that. From the way she’s looking at me, she knows. She knows it’s fucking painful.

  “She’ll come around,” she says, nodding her head towards Jenna.

  “Yeah,” I respond, but I don’t know if she will. I don’t know how to make this better. I don’t know how to make her better. What if she never recovers from this?

  * * *

  Later that night I help Jenna get ready for bed, just like every other night. I undress her gently and pull one of her night gowns over her head. I help her scoot back onto the pillows and under the covers. She has always been a side sleeper, but since the wreck she has had to sleep on her back. I know that has to be uncomfortable for her, but that’s just one of the many things she doesn’t ever complain about.

  I shed my clothes and join her in the bed. Her eyes are already closed, but I lay on my side and study her face. I would give anything in this world to go back and take away her pain. What if I hadn’t have pursued her, would she have been better off? She wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and she wouldn’t have gotten into that wreck because she wouldn’t have been driving to that doctor. What if I’d have gone with her? What if I had been the one driving the car?

  The ‘what if’s’ are killing me. I’ve been through every scenario I can come up with, but it all leads back to me. It’s my fault. If I’d have just left her alone, this would have never happened. She wouldn’t be having to deal with this heart ache and pain.

  I reach my hand out and gently run it down her face and I apologize, just like I do every night. “I’m so sorry, Jenna,” I whisper into the darkness.

  She doesn’t open her eyes. She doesn’t even move. I feel a tear leak out of my eye as I continue to study her face. I don’t think my Jenna is ever coming back.

  * * *

  It’s been a little over a week since Jenna came home. I’m still at her house, but I started working from here. I won’t leave her, but I have to start working again or I will lose my law firm. Tammi has been doing a great job of keeping everything running, but eventually I’m going to have to start resuming normal life. I just don’t think I’ll be able to do that until Jenna does.

  She still hasn’t spoken and she still spends her days in that bed. Sometimes I want to shake her and beg her to wake up, but I know that won’t help. She needs to work through all of this and I need to be patient.

  I hear a knock at the door and I stand from where I am working at the kitchen table to go answer it.

  “Hey Lexie,” I say as I open the door and let her in.

  She comes by every single day with two coffees and two cupcakes. She disappears into Jenna’s room and stays for an hour or so. I don’t know exactly what she does, but when I go in to check on Jenna after she’s left, there is always an untouched cupcake and cold coffee sitting on the bedside table.

  “Hey, Parker. You look like shit. Have you lost your razor?”

  Leave it to Lexie not to sugar coat anything. It’s actually a little refreshing. Everyone else tip-toes around us like we will break if they say the wrong thing, but I think what we need right now is normal and I’m so thankful that Lexie comes here every day and gives us that little bit of normal.

  “She’s in her room,” I say, inclining my head towards the hallway.

  “Of course she is,” I hear her mumble, as she walks in that direction.

  I go back into the kitchen and get back to work.

  I’m surprised when Lexie comes into the kitchen a few minutes later.

  “We’re going outside on the porch today. Come help me.” She turns on her heels and walks out of the kitchen before I can form a response.

  I think this is a bad idea. Jenna hasn’t been outside since the burial service. Sometimes I can get her to go into the living room, but that’s rare. I make her get up and shower at least every other day, but besides that she spends most days in her bed with the curtains drawn.

  I sigh and run my hands through my too long hair, before following Lexie into the bedroom.

  When I walk into the room, my eyes immediately find Jenna’s. She gives me that same blank stare as usual. I glance over at Lexie and give a subtle shake of my head, trying to tell her without words that this is a bad idea. She ignores me and motions towards Jenna with her hand. “Alright. Parker’s here to help you up, Jenna. As I already said, we’re going outside. It’s warm and pretty and your white ass needs some fucking sun.”

  I glare in Lexie’s direction. That was a little harsh. Jenna blinks over at Lexie before focusing back on me. I walk to the side of the bed and hold my hand out to her. She never takes it, so I let it drop to my side, before turning to Lexie. “I don’t think Jenna wants to go outside today, Lexie. Maybe we will try again tomorrow.”

  “If she doesn’t want to go outside, she can say so herself. Otherwise, get her up and take her out there.
”

  Okay, now I’m getting pissed. She doesn’t get to come in this house and tell me what to do.

  “Lexie, I said not today.” I try to keep the anger out of my voice, but I fail miserably.

  “She needs to go outside. She needs to get the hell out of this bed.”

  “Don’t tell me what she needs.”

  “Jenna, get up. We’re going outside.”

  I look back at Jenna. No reaction, as usual.

  “Jenna, did you hear me? I said get up. You love your front porch. Let’s go sit out there for a while.”

  Still no response, not so much as a blink.

  “Lexie, that’s enough,” I say firmly.

  She sighs and rubs her forehead. She looks at Jenna before looking back at me. “You’re enabling her.”

  “I am doing what’s best for her.”

  “What’s best for her is not laying in this fucking bed day after day. She needs to be up moving around. She needs to get back to her normal life. She needs to talk for fucks sake.”

  “Stop,” I growl.

  “No, you stop, Parker. You are allowing this to go on. You aren’t pushing her. She needs to be pushed. She needs to find a way to cope with this loss and it’s not going to be found lying in a bed all day.”

  “What in the hell do you want me to do, Lexie? I live with this every day. Every fucking day.”

  “Get out.”

  I swing my head around to Jenna. I’m almost positive I imagined her voice, but she opens her mouth again.

  “Get the fuck out of my room, both of you.” Her voice is low and scratchy. It’s been unused for weeks and the words are a little wobbly, but she talked.

  “Jenna,” I sigh in relief and start making my way to her side of the bed, but her cold stare stops me in my tracks.