The Big Chill, Aliaslaceygreen, not mine, not making any money

Nights in White Satin

I willed myself to turn at the sound of Tank's voice. It's only Tank, I berated myself. He probably just has a file to drop off. I knew I was lying as soon as I had the thought. Suddenly I had a name for that hinky feeling I'd had all day long. It was pure fear.

"Ms. Plum," he said again, hesitantly, as he crossed the floor. "Stephanie?" I looked up then, and my fears were echoed in the deep blackness of his face. God, I hate Mondays!

Suddenly he was crouched down in front of me. I had the abrupt impulse to laugh. Seeing someone as large, as solidly and massively built as Tank try to squat down to my level simply seemed wrong.  It was when his massive hands reached out to touch me that I started thinking again. This was real. And it wasn't a comedy.

I swallowed reflexively to keep down whatever it was that was clawing at my gut trying to get out. My eyes found his as I grasped his hand. Oddly enough, I took note of the texture of his fingertips; sandpaper rough and almost super-heated.

"Is he…. alive?" I hesitated at that last word. I wasn't sure if it was better to say dead, because then Tank could negate my biggest fear, that Carlos died. And that I would never be able to find a way to make him forgive me.  My voice sounded foreign to me, high pitched and squeaky. Yet there was a firm quality to the feel of his grasp, as his massive hands enveloped mine.

"Yes."

Breath I hadn't realized I was holding let out in a rush.  "OK."

He didn't let go of my hand, and I couldn't decide if I was glad of it or not. Because if he had let go, that would tell me Carlos was OK. Wouldn't it? Was his holding on to me telling me that he too was relieved?  Or was it because there was more?

More? What more could there be? What more can you want? He's not dead! That is the only thing you wanted to hear. He is alive. Alive. Alive!

The past three months all flooded back into my consciousness. Of course, it was just a courtesy that Tank came to tell me. He knew-- he had to know-- I was worried, what with my asking each of the guys, every time they came in, if there had been any word. Not that I had any claim on Carlos. We had broken up. It was simply a courtesy.

At least that is how the rest of the world saw it. I knew better. Carlos didn't mean to leave me. Not leave me. He had to go do his job, but I knew, as surely as I knew my own name, I knew that he still loved me. It was the only thing that made me get up most mornings.

I thought abruptly of Marina. I had purposefully forgotten about her as a way of being close to Carlos since that day a few months back when I broke down in her office, because I was too embarrassed by my behavior.

My mother had been stuck with babysitting both of Val's kids and had totally forgotten that she had to take grandma for her neurological check up from the fall she had taken last year. So, of course, she called me. It wasn't like I was at work or anything, I had said, the sarcasm flowing over her head with no acknowledgement.  Connie told me to go, it was fine, she'd deal with Vinnie, and so I had booked over to the house and then skid to a stop at the doctor's office without enough time to really think about what I was doing.

Not that I had done a lot of thinking about much of anything sensible lately anyway. It had been three long weeks since Carlos left on his mission, and I had had no word. It was killing me. I was sure Mary Lou was ready to toss me out with the garbage; she had to be fed with me and my whining and carrying on. I wouldn't take a pregnancy test. I wouldn't go out on a date. I wouldn't get lost in a shopping frenzy.  She wanted to believe Carlos was a good guy; she wanted to believe it would all work out.

But I knew that she had a streak of reality in her that didn't allow her such flights of fancy. And all I would do was sit and home and mope and not answer her phone calls. The fact she even continued to try proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was destined for sainthood.

I had no idea what I would do if I got my period. The idea that I wouldn't get it scared the living shit out of me; but if I got it I didn't know if I would be able to carry on. So I chose denial.

I was fully aware, as was anyone who sat through Health class that I would know sooner rather than later. I needed to keep the idea of Carlos alive as long as possible. I needed to live in my little fantasy world. So the bag with the EPT test sat, staring at me accusingly every time I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I would glare back at it, and rest my hand on my stomach, somehow protecting my child from naysayers and unbelievers.

I hadn't even thought about the fact that the office was Marina Dennison's. How it had escaped my attention I've no idea, but it did indeed. I sat, mindlessly flipping through magazines, an uneasy mood seeping through me. But it was the same nameless feeling that seemed to follow me lately, and I paid it no attention. If pressed I would have said it was an emotional feeling, not a physical one. Had I been paying any attention to my body for real, I would have known it was simply cramps, but my head hadn't been on straight for weeks.

I had missed my period, but still wouldn't take the test. Mary Lou convinced me it was nerves that was keeping me from getting it. She tried to reason with me that I would be no more or less pregnant if I took the test, I would just know. 

But that was the problem, wasn't it?? If I was pregnant, did that mean Carlos could die??  Maybe if I wasn't, then he would have no choice but to come back! How flipping unreasonable is that line of thinking?

Oh, fuck! I shook my head to try and clear it from the winding pathways into the past I was traveling on, and get back to the present. Tank said Carlos was alive.

I swallowed repeatedly, trying to center myself, to calm down. It wasn't working. He was alive. "Marina. He has a sister. She needs…"

He cut me off. "Stephanie. Breathe." Tank had stood by now, and his shadow blocked the bare fluorescent bulbs that lit the place. His bulky, hovering outline was freakish to my watery eyes. I could read both the relief and the uncertainty in his movements.

One of the few things I had discovered about these guys of Carlos's was that they held him in the greatest regard. It was much more than simply that he was their boss. It seemed he was their best friend. I could appreciate that. Good friends were hard to come by. This had to be hard for him, too.

Tank stared me in the eye, and I felt compelled by some force to stop blubbering and silence myself. He put his finger under my chin, and gently chucked it. "Marina told me to tell you." The smile he wore didn't reach his eyes.

I nodded mutely, afraid to open my mouth. I stood silently watching him as he walked around the office, turning off computers and lights.  He grabbed my jacket and purse, and steered me toward the door. "You need to set the alarm, Ms. Plum," he stated as he stepped outside onto the street.

I must have done as he asked because he patted me on the shoulder and walked me to my car. He put his hands out for the keys and I dug through my purse for them, handing him the ring when I found it. 

I leaned into the car to set my purse on the passenger seat. I heard Tank's voice continuing to go on. All I wanted was to go sit in a dark place and have a good cry of relief, and he wanted to show me how many words he knew??

"Ms. Plum? We leave tomorrow at 10:30 am. I'll meet you at your apartment."

That shook me out of my stupor. I had been so relieved by the knowledge he was alive I had forgotten the next question to ask. Because I knew that there was no reason for Marina or Tank to come find me if Carlos could do so himself.  

"For what? Carlos… Tank….What's happened to him?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Where is he?"

"He's being stabilized and shipped stateside tomorrow."

"But where is he?"

"I don't know."

God, I wanted to smack him! I don't know. I don't know. Well, I don't know either!! I took a deep breath before asking, "Is he hurt badly?" I was impressed by my voice, it didn't give away any of the fear that was pulsing through me.

"I don't know, Ms. Plum, I just don't know."

The sound of pain in his voice as he spoke made me regret the pettiness of my reaction. He was hurting, too. I asked with a good deal more sympathy, "What's at 10:30?"

"Marina asked that I drive you both to the hospital where they will be taking him."

 That surprised me. Marina wanted me there? Maybe she really did understand.

"Tank, is it bad?"

"I don't know."

"What has Marina told you?"

"She was trying to get some information when I left."  He put his hand on the door and got ready to slam it shut.

"Where is the hospital?"

"Walter Reed, in DC."

"And he's not there yet?"

"No, ma'am."

I bit my lip and thought for only a second before voicing my idea. "Tank, can we go to Miami? Can you get me a flight there first? We need to bring Julie to him."

I could tell I had hit on something. Maybe he didn't approve of Carlos giving Julie up either. "I think I can swing two plane tickets; I did my taxes early. Come with me? I'll treat you to Micky D's before we leave."  I knew Carlos hated junk food, but I had seen both Tank and Lester indulge from time to time.

He smiled then, and laughed. "I can put the tickets on Rangeman. But I don't care for their breakfasts, ma'am."

Ha! I had him. "I know of a 24 hour location. Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast." My smile didn't reach my eyes either as I joked with him, but we both laughed softly. He told me he would call me with further details, and any news, and then he closed my door.  

I was alone again, alone with my wild thoughts and my crazy mind and I knew with certainty I wouldn't sleep tonight.