Love in the Cross Hairs Ch. 03

He'd found out a lot about Peter too. His was an interesting case. He'd quit high school, joined the army, put in his three years, came out and had gone to a local community college, then finished it off with two more years at a very good state college.

Out of college he took off on his own. He used his hands and his brains to start his own carpentry business. He built his first house all alone; from the bottom up. By the time he was twenty-nine he was on his way; then the bottom fell out. He nearly lost everything.

That's where his family came in, Carroll's son and a colleague saw the young man's troubled business and closed for the kill. They got most, but not all of it.

Peter was just getting back on his feet when he rescued Laurie outside the Wal-Mart. After that, well after that there was Sally.

Carroll wondered if the two of them, his daughter and Peter, had patched things up. He didn't know Peter, but had a hunch he'd like him if he got to know him. Laurie loved him; that spoke volumes.

Aurora sat quietly while her husband flew the plane. All she wanted was to get Laurie back home. Her daughter wasn't competent to make her own decisions. Once she got her home she'd get her in counseling. She just couldn't imagine what kind of trash she'd hooked up with at the ocean.

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Laurie was half in and half out of her mind. She was sick. She'd seen him at the beach. She'd found him. Peter had taken her someplace; some hospital. It had to be someplace at the beach. Where did he go? She needed to tell him what happened. She needed to apologize. She tried to get up, "Peter?"

The nurse on duty heard her and ran into the room. Laurie was half out of the bed, "Come on dear. Lie back down."

Laurie looked up at the nurse. She'd never seen her before, "Where am I? Where's Peter?"

The movement and the attempt at speech resulted in another paroxysm of coughing wheezing and gasps for air from fluid filled lungs.

The nurse gently urged her back in the bed, "You're at the Southside Clinic. Your boyfriend is asleep in another room. You want me to wake him?"

Laurie nodded her head.

The nurse adjusted the covers. She added another blanket, "Stay still. You're very sick. You have pneumonia; you need to take care of your baby."

Laurie lay back down, she coughed, "I'm so cold; get Peter for me."

The nurse pulled on another of the thin medical blankets, "I will I will, just lie still."

Laurie drifted off again.

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Peter got back to the clinic and sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting room. He just couldn't sleep.

Not finding Peter where she expected him the girl stepped in the waiting room where saw him, "You're Peter?"

He got up, "Yes."

"She wants to see you."

He followed her into the room where Laurie was lying. She looked terrible. He pulled up a seat and sat beside her. He took her right hand and whispered, "Laurie."

Through the medication the bleary eyed young woman looked over at him, "Peter, is that you?"

"It's me."

"Peter I'm sorry. Please let me explain."

He squeezed her hand, "Explain later. I have to explain some things too, but right now we've got to get you well."

"You won't leave?"

"I won't leave."

"Promise?"

"I promise." His mind started to work overtime. 'What was he doing? Was he out of his mind? She didn't just show up at the beach this morning by chance. She must have been looking for him. But why? He'd left her, hadn't even looked back. Was she that determined? Maybe, maybe not; no forget it. No don't forget. She'd done something terribly wrong; that's why she kept trying to apologize. OK, he'd get her well, see to her recovery; then they'd talk it out. If he felt satisfied with her explanations he'd forgive her.

He'd never forget, but he was a fair minded person, he was capable of forgiveness. She was pregnant. It was certainly his. The baby would need a father, a last name, some claim to legitimacy. He could do that. It would be part of the package; forgiveness plus the assumption of responsibility. That was the right thing to do. He was a man after all.'

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Laurie began to dream.

Laurie drifted back off into her feverish world of internal visions and voices. It wasn't sleep, not exactly, more like that semi-somnolent, trance like state one has when they're desperately ill. It was at these times people often dreamed, not good dreams that come with healthy restorative life giving REM sleep, but odd, off the wall, sometimes terrifying fever driven nightmares.

She lay on that hard indifferent hospital bed covered with thin hospital blankets and traveled from one hallucinatory illusion to the next, from one agitated apparition to another. Each visage was superseded by an even wilder more fearsome fevered episode.

She was at the beach. It was summer, and she wanted to enjoy the refreshing surf as it swirled and curled around her frame. She dove deep in the frothy breakers and emerged; hair wet, she shook her head and let the sudsy foam cascade around her healthy tanned body. Suddenly she espied the ominous signs of a coastal riptide, those swiftly circling eddies that spelled danger. She planted her feet and started to wade ashore, but the remorseless turbulence began to suck her outward, away from safety. She felt the pitiless suction draw her out, away, deeper. Her legs were helpless against the watery onslaught; the savage maelstrom was about to pull her under. She cried out for help. In her delirium she cried out, "Peter, Peter, where are you?"

A cool hand rested on her hot brow. The loathsome torrent receded. Cool comforting arms encircled her. A voice whispered in her ear, his voice, "Quiet Laurie. It's all right. I'm right here." She drifted back into a comforting torpor.

Again she was in the water; her hands were clasped around the metal bars of a water sled as it was pulled along by the powerful engine of an outboard motorboat. The surf slapped her face. Her sister-in-law Sally was laughing beside her. She felt the cool refreshing breeze as the sled went skidding across the ocean water. What a delightful, wonderful day, gliding along the surface of the cool invigorating water; a great day to be alive!

Then Sally began to push her off the sled! What was she doing? Why was she doing this? Stop it Sally! Off to the right was a long large dark image; it was just under the surface of the scudding waves. It was a giant shark; she saw the outline of a great white shark with layered rows of sharp teeth cascading out and down around its powerful jaws. The fish was closing in! Sally kept pushing her away!

Laurie felt her feet, then her legs slide off, away from the protection of the sled.

The shark was at her face. She saw its black beady eyes. She was inches, seconds, from being engulfed, drawn away and down, down into the dark fluid, held in the merciless grip of that primordial leviathan's lethal jaws. She cried out, "Sally stop! Help! Peter where are you? I need you!"

Again she felt the pleasurable soft cool hands of redemption; gentle fingers caressed her hot dry cheeks. A loving palm was laid upon her forehead. Loving lips were at her red hot ear, "Calm down darling. I'm right here. Nothing's going to hurt you. Just go to sleep."

At last she drifted off. Somewhere someone was whispering something to her. Someone was beside her. It was Peter. He was holding her. His strong arms were around her. She felt safe, secure, protected. The lethal dorsal drifted away, the deadly whirlpool faded to a calm, benign, even friendly, ripplet.

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Peter sat at Laurie's bedside and listened to her fitful calls for help; he heard her frail feverish helpless entreaties, he watched as she flailed about helplessly. Periodically she called out his name. She was so hot! Finally he saw no alternative but to climb in beside her. He dropped his shoes and slid under the sheet. His overalls were rough and dirty. He shed them and lay beside her in rumpled white boxers and worn grey sweatshirt. He wrapped his cool arms around her hot body. He cooed softly in her ear. He laid his hand on her slightly rounded stomach. His child was in there. He sang long forgotten lullabies. He stroked her brow; so helpless, so beautiful, so precious. Yes, he'd forgive her. He might gently, lovingly, chide her from time to time, but he'd cherish her, and always remember to care for her, love her, and protect her.

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It was a little after 2:00 p.m. when Carroll and Aurora's plane landed; they acquired a rental car, and started for the Southside Clinic. Carroll began to wonder if they were doing the right thing. What if it had been Peter who'd brought her to the clinic? What if they'd reached some sort of understanding? What if they'd made up? He looked over at his wife, "I'm dropping you off at our townhouse."

Aurora was tired, but not too tired to see her daughter, "Why?"

"I have some things to do. Then we'll get Laurie together."

"What you need to get an ambulance so we can take her home?"

That wasn't what Carroll had been thinking, but he decided not to disabuse his wife, "Yes."

"OK, drop me off. I need to shower up anyway."

As he drove on to their palatial bay side townhouse he thought about Laurie, her insecurities, and her many apparent needs. Peter, if it was Peter, certainly would never be his first choice, but he was a man who understood responsibility. Laurie needed someone to provide guidance, set limits, and give structure to her life.

No, Peter wasn't his first choice, but Laurie wasn't a child any longer. She was nearly thirty; she couldn't depend on her parents forever. He believed she loved Peter. Peter could be her lover, her companion, and her care giver. Yes, not the best maybe, but with Peter she'd probably be in good firm hands.

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While Laurie laid in a feverish state her father, ignoring his comments to his wife, drove to the Southside Clinic. The place looked barren; only a medical vehicle, two cars parked in the employee sector and a lone pick up truck. He pulled to the side of the road and typed in the number of the clinic, a youngish sounding woman picked up the phone, "Hello, Southside Clinic."

Carroll asked, "Is Peter Dawson there?"

The woman on the other end of the line answered, "Yes, shall I get him?"

Carroll responded, "No, never mind." He had what he needed, now he had to detour his wife. He restarted the rental and sped back to their townhouse.

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Laurie tossed and turned, cried and whimpered all night long, and all night long Peter held, cooed, and coddled the sick woman. Around 5:00 a.m. he could tell she'd come through the worst; her body was covered in sweat.

The doctor had been in earlier and he and Peter had conferred. They both agreed she'd probably be better off at his apartment. The doctor knew the location; he'd had friends who'd once lived there. He complimented Peter on his choice of domiciles; it was good place, well built, recently insulated, convenient, and homey.

He told him not to worry about the baby; pneumonia wasn't dangerous at such an early stage. He left Peter with several prescriptions; an antibiotic, an expectorant, and some prescription strength Tylenol. Other than that he gave the customary instructions; a quiet softly lit environment, plenty of fluids, fruits, and lots and lots of sleep.

When Laurie awakened around 7:00 she found Peter snuggled against her in the bed, "Peter?"

He cast about drowsily, "Laurie, you're awake?"

She tried to rub her eyes, but her hands were caught in the blanket. He rubbed them for her. She asked, "Have I been asleep long?"

He looked at the clock on the wall, "A little shy of twenty-four hours."

Still very much under the influence of pain killer and antibiotic Laurie made a feeble attempt to stir, "I have to get up." She started to wheeze.

He held her in place; he tucked the hem of one of the blankets up under her face, "No you don't. You have pneumonia."

She turned white, "Pneumonia!" she started to cough, "I can't have..."

He put a finger to her lips, "You can and you do. You're pregnant too." He snuggled her neck, "I'm guessing it's mine. Not to worry, the doctor said the pneumonia won't endanger the baby."

The first flush of awakening had worn off. Her head had started to pound; she felt fragile, those awful achy, weak, sensations associated with sickness, "Where am I, how did I get here? We were on the beach. I have to get home. I'm dying of thirst."

Peter got out of bed, found an empty cup, tore off the plastic, filled it from the nearby sink, and plunked in a straw, "Here," He held the cup while she dutifully sipped the precious liquid. She started to cough.

Peter withdrew the cup and tried to answer her questions, "You're at the clinic in the south end of town. I had to carry you off the beach. You were burning up with fever. That was yesterday morning. I brought you here. You've been sort of out of it all yesterday and all night. I don't know where home is, but I live just a few blocks south of here. The doctor and I agreed it's a good place for your recovery."

Laurie tried to reach for the water again. Peter held it out for her. She sipped some more and gasped out, "No, I'm at my parents townhouse. I should go there."

"Is anybody else there?"

She answered, "No."

He checked her forehead. She was still hot, "I'm not working on anything right now. You should stay at my place. It's a good spot, close to a pharmacy and grocery store. I'll be on hand to help you get better."

Her head was killing her. It wasn't a traditional headache but a hardcore fever headache with all the heavy drumming that it inferred. Try as she might she couldn't focus, "I won't be too much trouble?"

"Don't be stupid."

She tried to get to the other thing, "Peter I'm sorry about..."

He kissed her forehead and rested his hand on her abdomen as he cut her off, "Let's get well shall we?"

She closed her eyes. She was already half asleep.

Peter covered her up, added two more of the thin blankets, and stepped out of the room down to the Triage area. There was another woman on duty, "I'm going to step out, get some coffee and something to eat. I'll be back in a few minutes. She's gone back to sleep. Her medicine isn't due till 11:00. I'll be back well before that."

The receptionist smiled, "Don't worry I and the nurse on duty will be here."

He smiled back and stepped to the door. 'OK,' he thought, 'let's try to get the coffee right this time.' He started to trudge back up to the Dunkin Donuts, stopped and turn for his truck. He'd have to buy supplies, and there was an economy store across from the Donut shop.

He went to his truck, got in and took off. He decided to get the supplies first, but realized nothing was open yet, so it was off for the coffee. He used the drive through, got lucky, and was waited on by a native. He got the coffee and drove across the street to wait for the economy store to open. He checked his watch; he had maybe twenty minutes.

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Carroll went back and checked in with Aurora, "Aurora I've been to the clinic."

"Did you see our girl?"

"No but I saw Peter Dawson's truck."

"Holy Mother, that's who I thought she'd be with; that white trash no good found her again."

Carroll held up his hands, "Wait a minute. I think it might have been the other way."

You mean she found him?"

"Could be, good chance."

"No, she wouldn't do that. She has too much pride."

"Aurora did it ever occur to you she might actually love him?"

"Laurie? No, she doesn't understand what love is."

"I don't know. I think she might this time. I mean how many other young men has she ever brought around for us?"

"She didn't bring this one around either."

"No she didn't, but I think Sally had a lot to do with that."

"That's right, blame Sally."

"Look I don't want to fight about this stuff. I have something else in mind."

"Like getting our daughter and fetching her home?"

"No, like leaving her to her own devices; let's let the two of them work it out."

"You're crazy."

"No I'm not. Listen, neither of us know this man, but Laurie does. I want to trust her judgment. I mean of she sees something, there must be something there."

"What if she's wrong?"

"We can always break it up if we don't approve."

Aurora thought about that. Laurie had always been pretty easy to control, "OK, so what's your plan?"

Carroll pulled over a chair and started to explain to Aurora what he foresaw. The more he talked the better Aurora liked what he said. After a while she was more confident in what Carroll supposed than he was. She knew there were good reasons why she'd settled on him. After all, she'd been quite a belle in her day.

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So Carroll and Aurora agreed to let nature take its course, at least for the moment. The assumption being, if things between the two young people didn't work out they'd committed no foul. If on the other hand things started to shape up; then they'd step in at the propitious moment and help the Dawson boy close the deal on favorable terms for all.

Later that afternoon the Stanton's repacked some clothes and drove their rental back home. They'd wait and see. For the moment they'd play no part in the drama that was their daughter's life.

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Peter got his coffee, this time to his specifications, skipped the doughnut, and sat across from the economy store till it opened. As the assistant manager opened the front door Peter was there to follow him in.

He took a shopping cart and filled it. He picked up four heavy duty sets of flannel pajamas, two thick flannel robes, two sets of furry slippers, some white and black socks and stockings, a couple comfortable looking Tee shirts, some cotton boxers in what he thought would be her size, two boxes of depends, a couple toothbrushes, more toothpaste, more towels and wash rags, soap, alcohol, witch hazel, baby powder, barrettes, cold cream, hair shampoo, bobby pins, Q-tips, a DVD player, two DVDs, one the old Footloose and the other Pretty Woman, some Skin So Soft, a hair brush, more shaving cream, some lip gloss, chap sticks, two Harlequin Romance Novels, clear nail polish, one of those little sandpaper boards women used on their fingernails, some cokes, crackers, cheese, cookies, air fresheners, more toilet paper, handy-wipes, a thermometer, a nice woman's wristwatch as a present, and a bed pan just in case.

Since he had an extended cab he was able to load everything right in the truck. By 11:00 a.m. he was back at the clinic. Laurie was still asleep. In fact she didn't wake up till after 2:00 in the afternoon. When she finally did awaken, he was right there all ready to forgive and start over.

Laurie yawned and rolled on her side, "What time is it?"

Her bodice was open and her breasts exposed so he covered her with a blanket, "A little after 2:00.

"Morning or night?

"You mean morning or afternoon."

"OK, which?"

"Afternoon."

"I'm thirsty."

"Sure," he started for the water."

"No I want milk."

"How about a coke?"

"No milk."

"Look why don't I get you some milk when we get home?"

Laurie yawned again. Her head still ached, "I don't have any milk at home."

"I have milk."

"I want to go to my house."

"Don't you remember we agreed you'd stay with me till you got well?"

"How sick am I?"

"Pretty sick."

"Like how sick?"

"Pneumonia sick."

She got a frightened look on her face, "I..."

He interrupted, "We already talked about that. Pneumonia won't hurt the baby."

"How did you know I'm having a baby?"

It occurred to him she probably didn't remember much if anything, "You are in a little hospital."

"Oh," she paused, "So I'm going home with you?"

"Yes."