Steve stood outside Carly's room as Dr. Caldwell discussed some last minute details with her. He turned to Kelly the nurse that had been with them through it all.
"Thank you for everything. You're very good at your job."
She smiled, putting an arm around his waist as he put one over her shoulder and squeezed his appreciation. "I'm sure I'll see you two again in a couple of years down at the maternity ward."
Steve laughed, "We'll see."
Carly came out into the corridor being pushed in a wheelchair by Jason; she stood up and said goodbye to everyone that had cared for her and had come up to see her off.
Steve stood off to the side watching all the people who had come to love and admire her. She had that quality about her. Everyone loved Carly once they got to know her. They always had.
He opened up his front door and let her enter first. It was like Déjà vu. He had done the same thing only four months earlier when she had entered it for the first time after coming back from California with him. In a way she was entering for the first time again.
She smiled at him as she walked past, peeking inside just before she entered as if there was something lurking beyond the threshold. She was apprehensive, knowing this place but at the same time not really knowing it at all. The layout was just as she had dreamed or remembered? She wasn't sure which. She went straight to the kitchen, looking out the window at the ocean and the flowers. The others came in and she turned around to them.
"There's two bedrooms upstairs, one has glass doors that lead to a deck and there are flowers all around it, right?" She recalled her dream where they had kissed.
"There are two bedrooms and glass doors but no flowers on the door, or the lanai." Steve pointed to the backyard. "There are plenty outside though. If you want I can cut some and bring them in?"
She shook her head, a little disappointed. "No, I just thought…I had a dream…" she cut herself off. "Never mind. You don't have to do that."
She followed him upstairs as Mary began to prepare an early dinner and Jason sat at his laptop confirming their reservations for the next morning's flight home.
Steve stopped at the first bedroom. "I've slept in here since Jules left." He continued down to their room feeling a little apprehensive; one, because this was their room and they had shared so many intimate moments as well as personal talks, but he was also worried that she might have a memory of the stabbing. He entered first, watching her closely for any sign of either.
She looked at the bed first, recalling the dream, feeling her face flush. Her parents' suitcases were packed and sitting on the floor, still open for any last minute items. Steve walked past her to the French doors and opened them out to the lanai.
"That's so beautiful," she exclaimed, coming around the bed and out the door with him.
He was pleased that she never once looked down at the spot where he had found her bloodied and dying. The memory was hard enough for him; he hoped it was the one she would never recall. "You said you dreamt there were flowers," he asked.
She put her hands on the railings, looking down at the row of pink, yellow and white hibiscus that lined either side of his backyard all the way to the beach. "Yes, but they were all over the lanai and draped over the door," she looked at him, "I could smell them in my dream." She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, "just like now."
He stared at her, feeling that déjà vu all over again. He wished he could kiss her and pull her back to his bed like he had done the last time. He missed being with her so much, and being this close to her and not being able to touch her was torture. He was glad she didn't recall the painful memories, but couldn't deny that he was disappointed that she didn't recall the good ones either. Still, he thought, she had dreamt of this room and it seemed to be a pleasant one, so that was a good sign.
Carly turned around and leaned against the railing looking into the bedroom at the bed. She pictured the two of them lying there like they had in her dream. She knew she had lived here for three months before 'it' happened, knowing they shared that bed and more than anything else she knew they had made love probably countless times in it. It was surreal to know it, but not remember it. At one time she knew him intimately in probably every sense of the word, and he knew her just as well. She looked up at him and he stared at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. She felt that stab of guilt, again knowing how difficult this must be for him.
"I want you to be comfortable here," he said, "there is nothing in this house that you should be afraid of. I want you to think of it as your own personal sanctuary." He put his hand on her arm, gently caressing it, wanting to reassure her. "You're safe her. There's no pressure and no demands."
She wondered if he had always had that gift of knowing what she was thinking and being able to sense what she needed when she needed it, because those words were exactly what she needed to hear and she believed every word he said. "Ok," she replied, "thank you." She looked down, feeling slightly awkward but said what she wanted to say too. "I want you to know that I understand how difficult this must be for you. I don't know what's going to happen in the future," she looked back up at him, "but I like you very much. I like being around you." She smiled shyly, playing with the bottom of her shirt, nervously toying with it. The way he looked at her was so damn sexy and unbelievably sensuous that she actually felt her knees weaken. The best part of it was that she didn't even think he was going for either of those moods; it was just the way he always looked when he was gazing at her.
"Day by day, Carly," he grinned, "we'll just take it day by day. Hell, " he huffed, "we were friends for sixteen years before anything really happened between us, so taking it slow is our motto."
She laughed, "Wow, talk about playing hard to get. You're going to have to lighten up some."
"Me!" he put his hand on his chest. "You were the one that was hard to get. I tried," he grinned, teasing her, "there I was off fighting for my country, trying to make it safe and you wouldn't give me the time of day." He walked back in to the bedroom, "I was so lonely," he whined.
"Oh right," she huffed, following after him. "I'm sure you were lonely!" She rolled her eyes. "Have you seen you? I bet if I really did my homework I would find out that you had a girl in every port around the world."
He glanced over his shoulder at her just before going out the door. "Carly! I can't believe you would think that about me?" he declared innocently. "I was a virgin up until a couple of months ago."
She roared over that one, gently shoving him from behind out the door. "Virgin of what? I may not remember us, but I can smell bullshit a mile away, and you Steve need a shower."
He turned to her, laughing at her comeback. He hated to think it, but he was really looking forward to Jason and Mary leaving in the morning. The last month had been a nightmare but he felt like he was finally waking up and could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He wanted to get back to that place when it was just the two of them, even if it wasn't going to be exactly the same as it was, he would have her all to himself once again. That he needed.
Carly hugged her Mother tightly as Jason shook hands and hugged Steve at the same time.
Mary pulled back still holding her shoulders, "I'm glad you decided to stay for a while. I think this will be good for both of you. You need some alone time to get to know each other again."
Carly nodded but still felt that tug at her heart over her Mother leaving.
Mary sensed that and put a hand on her cheek. "You'll be fine. You need to lean on him a bit, don't try to be so self-sufficient. You're not ready for that yet."
"I don't want him to see me as helpless. I can take care of myself."
"He would never see you that way." She smiled at her knowingly. "Besides, men like to be the protector, the guardian. It makes them feel like a man. God knows Steve's capable, he's been doing it his whole life." She patted her cheek, "He's good at it too."
"What if we don't get along when it's just the two of us?"
"No one gets along 100% of the time honey, but," she sighed, "you know you can always come to California with us." She almost said home, but didn't want to put that thought in her head that home was with she and Jason. The more time she had to accept this decision Carly had made, the more she came to agree that home really was with Steve. She hoped that eventually she would see it too.
Steve pulled up to the house and glanced over at Carly in the passenger seat. "I don't know how long I'll be. Are you sure you're going to be ok?"
She glanced over at him. "I'm not a child Steve. I'm perfectly capable of being home alone."
"I know," he corrected, "I was just hoping we could go to dinner tonight, but," he sighed, holding up his cell phone, "duty calls."
"It can't be helped," she reminded him getting out of the truck. "I'll make something."
"I don't know when I'll be home."
"Then I'll make something you can re-heat."
He smiled, liking that she wanted to cook for him, "Ok. I'll call ya and let you know."
"Be safe," she said smiling before she closed the truck door.
He liked that even more, wishing she would have said it with a kiss like she used too, but he knew that wouldn't be for a while yet, refusing to even acknowledge that it might not happen, because it would.
She went inside and waved to him once more as he backed up, making sure first that she got inside safely. She closed the door and look around the room. It felt odd knowing she was all alone. It was the first time in a long time that she had been. She wasn't in a hospital room so this was like heaven. The house was quite and she didn't know what to do first. She decided dinner would be a good start. She could at least get an idea of what to make for him, knowing it had to be something that could keep.
"Maybe pasta," she said out loud, "pasta keeps."
She filtered through the pantry and found a box of spaghetti, a can of sauce and some meat in the freezer. The canned sauce didn't sit well with her but she knew she could spice it up. She put the meat in the microwave to defrost and while waiting patiently for the timer she eyed the basket of clothes on the table that Steve had sorted through looking for socks earlier. She decided to take it upstairs and put them away. She basically was looking for anything to pass the time.
As she passed the living room she reached for the remote, turning the TV on, knowing Seinfeld would be on shortly. She had become a fan after being in the hospital for so long. The noise from it helped too. It was just a little too quiet for her taste. She went upstairs holding the basket and stopped before going in his room, feeling slightly uneasy now about entering without him being there. Somehow she felt she was invading his privacy, even though he had told her more than once that this house was hers' too and nothing was off limits.
She set the basket down on the bed and scanned the area, being able to really get a look and feel for it. The room was so familiar but any kind of memory here wasn't, except for the dream, she smiled over that thought.
She took a couple of shirts out and folded them going to his dresser, opening the top drawer first.
"Socks" she said. "He has a lot of socks."
She closed that drawer and opened the next one, rolling her eyes and grinning, "Hmm, underwear." She went to close it and then stopped, curiously pulling out a pair of black boxer briefs with a white elastic band. She pictured him wearing nothing but these and suddenly felt like the world was watching her as she blushed and dropped them back in, slamming the drawer closed.
"What is wrong with you!" she laughed. "Checking out his underwear! You should be in the mental ward." She opened the next one seeing shirts and set the two folded ones on top, closing it back up.
She walked past the walk-in closet on the way back to the bed and stopped, biting her bottom lip, feeling her curiosity and boredom get the better of her. She flipped the light on. The TV downstairs blared out the Seinfeld theme music but she hardly noticed, to preoccupied by the Navy uniform hanging in a plastic bag on the wall in the back of the closet.
That she could really picture him in. She could only imagine how incredible he would look in that. "A man in uniform," she said, un-zipping the cover. She smiled as his familiar cologne escaped the bag. She gently ran her fingers over the medals on the jacket, impressed by each one, trying to read them to see what they represented. They were beautiful and elegant, meaning so much more than she could possibly imagine. She thought about the story he told of getting the scar on his back and knew he earned every one of them from being so brave.
She zipped it back up carefully so as not to snag it on any of the material and made sure it was adjusted just right on the hook. It deserved respect.
She turned to walk out and noticed a white sundress hanging on a hanger. It was the only piece of female clothing hanging in the closet. Her things had been moved to the spare room. She insisted on sleeping in there, knowing he had given up his bed for the past month because of her, she wasn't about to take it from him again.
She lifted the dress off the rod and set it up against her. It looked like it would fit. She wondered who's it was, or if it had been hers' and she just didn't remember it. Perhaps it had been misplaced and not moved with the others by mistake. She ran her hand down the front of it, liking the soft material. Her hand brushed over the pocket and she felt something inside. She pulled the material apart, seeing a photo inside.
She stared at it, seeing herself and Steve in the picture as if they were strangers looking back at her. They lied on the ground and he had one arm stretched out holding the camera, taking the picture and the other one around her shoulder holding her close as she rested her head on his shoulder. Neither one of them had a shirt on, perhaps naked, she wondered.
She had an arm draped over him, looking up and smiling brightly. She looked so blissfully happy it made her sad. It must have been a fun day. She imagined they had had lots of those for him to be as faithful and attentive to her as he was now. It was her first glimpse into what life was really like for them before it happened…she didn't even really know what 'it' meant. She knew her ex-husband attacked her, but that's really all they said about it. It was never discussed openly, and she never pushed the subject either. She didn't remember him either and didn't want too.
She looked back down at the photo and did want to know more about this though. Where were they? Was it a special day, a birthday perhaps or a holiday? Or did they spend their free time lying in each other's arms and this was just an ordinary day?
She put the dress back on the rod but kept the photo.
Carly sat up on the couch when she saw the headlights of the truck pull up. She muted the TV and stretched her arms out in front of her. The picture laid on the table in front of her. He came in smiling, wearing a different shirt and his gun and badge fitted on his hip. She had seen him wear them several times but never quite got over just how masculine it made him look, even more so than normal.
"Hi," he said, closing the door and removing the items from around his waist. He set them on a table by the door.
"Hi, everything go ok?"
"Caught the bad guy," he said pleasingly.
"Good guys win again," she congratulated, "I hope you're hungry because I made a ton of food."
"I'm starving." He couldn't help but grin to himself, remembering her lack of cooking skills, but he was hungry and something smelled good.
She pushed off the couch feeling a little stiff in her abdomen muscles, standing up slowly. "It just needs to be heated up," she groaned.
He dropped what he was doing and went to her. "You ok?"
"Yes, just a little sore in my abs."
"Where's your medicine?" He had her by the elbow and scanned the area around them.
"In the kitchen, but I took some not too long ago. I don't want to become too dependent on them. You know?"
She looked up at him when he didn't answer. She followed his eyes down to the table as he stared at the picture she had found.
It was just a picture but the memory of that day and the significance of that particular photo was like a stab in the chest. She was pregnant then, but neither one of them knew it yet. They had taken it a couple of hours after making love by the creek that they had hiked down to. It had been almost two months before, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. He reached down picking it up so he could see it closer. "Where did you find this?" he asked barely above a whisper.
She felt that maybe she had made a mistake. "I was putting away some laundry and I saw the dress in your closet. It was in the pocket." She stared at him as he held it, his mood becoming bluer as the seconds ticked by. "I wasn't snooping, I just…" she started to say when he looked at her.
"Do you remember this day? This photo?"
She could see the hope in his eyes. She wanted to say yes so badly for his sake. She felt his disappointment and shook her head, "No." She looked back down at the photo with him. "Was that a special day?"
He didn't answer but wanted to tell her everyday was special. They always felt like they did in that picture. It was their life. They had decided to fully commit to each other that day by bringing another life in to their perfect little existence. He felt that loss all over again. She was standing right next to him but in a sense she was a million miles away. This photo just reminded him once again how much he missed her. After experiencing the comfort of that relationship, he'd never felt so alone over the past month than he had in his entire life. It was like an ache that just wouldn't go away.
"Can you tell me about it?" she asked.
He stared at her smile in the photo and they way she held him. He shook his head no. He didn't want to tell her. Not yet. How could he just blurt out to her that she was pregnant? That's what made the moment and the photo so memorable? They took it hoping it would be the first picture of her pregnancy; little did they know it would also be the last one.
She wanted to apologize to him but wasn't sure what for. "Steve, I'm sorry. I didn't know that…"
"It's ok," he assured her, "It's not your fault." He looked at her with so much pain and sadness in his eyes she almost broke down herself. "I just can't talk about it right now. Ask me some other time."
She nodded her understanding never seeing him like this before. He was the strong one, the soldier in the uniform, but as he stood there looking at her she wanted so much to hug the boy that looked so unhappy.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the picture in his hand. He could hear Carly downstairs in the kitchen warming up whatever it was she had made for him. He was supposed to be taking a shower. It was the only excuse he could think of to get away from her at that moment. It was so hard to stand there and not be able to confide in her. That had been one of the greatest thrills of being with her. She was so easy to talk to. He could tell her anything and was allowed to feel anything, always knowing it was ok. He'd never had that before.
He didn't understand why she couldn't remember this picture. It was such a significant part of who they were. It began to make him angry that after all they had been through he was still nothing to her. He wasn't sure how much longer he could play this game with her. Sometimes, like now, he just wanted to shake her and demand an explanation, but he knew it wasn't Carly he was really angry with, it was Allan. He never got a chance to confront the person that had broken into his home and destroyed his family. Carly was alive and he was grateful for that, but he'd never know the baby. They had both been so concerned that she couldn't conceive that even talking about it seemed to jinx it, so they didn't. He wished now that he had. He wanted that baby so badly and never even got a chance to tell her.
Allan took that joy from him and he damaged Carly so much that she refused to even acknowledge her own existence. He wished he could have got his hands on him for just five minutes, but the coward took that away from him too. Instead he was left to clean up his carnage and worse yet he had to do it with a smile on his face. It was wearing him down day by day. He'd dealt with pressure before, hell he'd been trained by the best to restrain from it, but this was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Every time he thought things were on the up, something like this would pull him back down again. He needed her. He needed that friendship. He needed to wake up and feel her against him like he used too. He never knew just how much he needed it until it was taken away.
The picture became blurred as he felt that loneliness once again, that loss. He rubbed his thumb and index finger over his eyes, clearing away the self-pity that was creeping up on him, wiping it on his pants.
Carly stood on the stairs watching him through the partly closed door. There was something about that photo that had him so upset he couldn't even bring himself to talk about it. She wished now she wouldn't have found it. Whatever it was she wasn't even so sure she wanted to know the story behind it.
Her fingers gripped the handrail wanting to go to him, but not knowing what to say. She took the first step not letting that uncertainty stop her. She somehow knew that just being with him would help; maybe she didn't have to say anything at all. The closer she got to him the more right it felt.
She slowly pushed the door open and came in the room. She waited, not sure she was invited. He looked up at her startled to see her standing there. She didn't know what to do next so she did what her instincts told her and just sat down next him. Her arm brushed against his and she could feel it all the way down to her toes that curled from the sensation of it.
She reached down and took the picture from him, looking at it again from a new perspective. She just couldn't get over how happy she looked, but then it dawned on her. She was in love in this photo. That glow, the way she held him. She was in love.
She set the picture down next to her on the bed. He was there for her everyday. His first concern was always her well-being. If she wanted to get to that place in the photo she needed to be there for him as well.
She slid her hand around his arm, looking up at him. "Tell me about the first time we ever met."
It was the first time she had ever asked about their past. They always lived in the moment as if what they had before never existed. He was thrilled that she wanted to know. It was a good place to start, from the beginning.
"You were sitting on the bleachers at school with Karen and Jules," he said, reliving the moment that always made him smile, "they had their cheerleader uniforms on and you had just finished swim practice. You wore a pair of sweats, a T-shirt, your hair was still wet and you didn't have a stitch of makeup on."
Carly rolled her eyes, "I bet that was a sight."
Steve looked right in her eyes, "It was. I'll never forget walking up toward you and you made eye contact with me. I almost fell backward off the bleachers. I'd never had that happen to me before in my life, or since," he smiled. "After that day the six of us were inseparable. Jack and Craig were my buddies, but you, you were more like my best friend."
The tables had turned and she was enthralled now. "I was?"
He nodded, "We had fun together."
Carly grinned, "Jules said we had this crazy competition with swimming or racing or something."
Steve laughed, "I was always challenging you. I couldn't beat you."
Carly gripped his arm, stunned by that as well. "No way! You let me win."
Steve shifted so he could really see her. "No I didn't!" he put his hand on his chest, "I tried. You were fast. I couldn't beat you."
"Did that make you mad at me?"
"No!" he looked surprised, "of course not. It was all in good fun. Hell," he nudged her; "you were the State Champ that year. No one could beat you."
She liked to be reminded of that accomplishment. "I didn't tease you did I?"
"No, you were a good sport and a good friend. You wouldn't do that."
She scooted back against the headboard. "Tell me some more."
He laid across the bottom of the bed leaning on his elbow, resting in his head on his propped up hand. Gone was the self-pity that had him doubting their relationship and the loneliness he felt from the photo. She had succeeded in pulling him out of the abyss and back on top of the world. He was with her, just the two of them talking. It was exactly where he wanted to be.