Sorry for the delay, folks. I had trouble getting this chapter to come out right. I could probably niggle at it for another month, but there's nothing to lose by posting it now.
Thanks for taking the time to read. Of course we've got nothing but time on our hands now that they've decided to go on hiatus until March!
It was more than four hours before Skye emerged. Agent May's instincts kicked in during the wait and she started taking note of the number of women coming and going. She noticed how many did and didn't have wedding rings, which ones had a friend with them, how many were all alone. Without even realizing she was doing it, she quietly examined each woman's body language, seeing discomfort, nervousness, annoyance, anger, fear, and a multitude of other emotions written on various faces. A handful were actually relieved. Most probably didn't realize anyone was looking. None of them knew that even with a moderately interesting book to read and no particular mission ahead of her, Melinda May was still a spy at heart.
As the hours passed, May heard the crowd of protestors outside grow larger and louder. A man sitting near her started trying to make conversation. Where are you from? Who are you waiting for? "My daughter," May answered before burying her nose in her book to discourage further attempts.
She intentionally did not think about the last time she'd been in a place like this. That was decades ago and in another state, another time zone. It was not worth thinking about.
Finally, Skye limped out. Pain and sadness were in her walk, though not in her face. She didn't say a word, just stumbled towards May. "Sit down," May ordered, "I'll get the car." She squeezed Skye's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way before hurrying out the door.
They walked back to their room with May's arm under Skye and Skye's arm around May's shoulders. Skye was trying to be tough, but she gratefully accepted the support. Once inside, May lowered Skye onto the bed.
"Do you need the bathroom or anything?" May said. Skye shook her head. "Are you hungry? It's lunchtime." Skye nodded, afraid to try talking at the moment. "I'll order a pizza," May said, remembering how much Skye liked pepperoni. "Lie down for now," she ordered, and paused to pull the blanket over Skye's body before looking for a phone number.
Skye ate a slice of pizza when it arrived, but then hurried to the bathroom and threw it all up. She managed to keep down two breadsticks, a painkiller, a Pepto-Bismol tablet, and some water. Which is better than nothing, May reasoned as she stuffed the uneaten pizza into the tiny excuse for a refrigerator. Try again at dinnertime.
Skye was surprised at the way May was acting. It's like I'm a sick child, not an agent, she thought. But not in a condescending way. She quickly decided she had no energy to worry about May's behavior, or for anything that didn't involve coping with these cramps. The pain was much worse than she'd expected.
When her S.O. pulled out a heating pad and an extension cord and started setting them up, she seriously wondered whether clairvoyance was a myth after all.
May saw the confusion in Skye's eyes and explained, "You're not the only one who can use Google. I researched what to expect from your recovery." Also, this isn't my first rodeo. Skye just nodded and pressed the heating pad to her abdomen. "Do you want to watch some daytime TV? Take your mind off of things? Or get a nap?" Skye only shrugged. Total silence is downright eerie coming from her. Oh well, she'll talk when she's ready. "Let's try the TV, then."
The television somewhat made up for the lack of conversation, but there was precious little on that was worth watching. After all, it was barely 1:30 in the afternoon. May finally settled on a History Channel documentary, something about the populist movement, which seemed suitably neutral as background noise. Then she went back to her book, sparing a glance every few minutes at her patient. At first, Skye was wincing and staring blankly at the screen, but after about a half hour May was happy to see she had fallen asleep.
When Skye had slept soundly for almost an hour, May risked a trip to the convenience store across the street for Gatorade and crackers. Just in case she can't manage dinner. Upon her return, though, there was a sour smell in the air.
"Did you get sick again?" she asked as she went to Skye's bedside. Skye nodded, her face pale and sweaty. "Sit up," May ordered, reaching out a hand for support. "I brought you a little Gatorade. You can try some crackers to steady your stomach. How's the pain?"
The question was too direct to avoid. Skye spoke for the first time in hours: "Nothing I can't handle."
May nodded. "How about I give you another painkiller, anyway."
"Fine," Skye said, and took the pill. May handed her a Gatorade.
"Sip it slowly," she cautioned. Skye complied. May put a few crackers on a napkin and left it on the bedside table before returning to the room's only chair and to her book.
"Thanks," Skye said suddenly. "For . . . everything you're doing. I know this isn't exactly a fun weekend getaway."
May put the book back down. "This trip is far more unpleasant for you than for me. But you're welcome."
"Yeah," Skye said, staring down at the half-eaten cracker in her hand. "Unpleasant. But I guess I deserve this," she said, her voice breaking. "After all, this is my fault."
Some people would have jumped in to correct or comfort. May, however, knew the value of giving a hurt person silence to fill. So she held her tongue.
Tears were falling on the cracker, now. "I chose this. I chose this after I chose to sleep with Ward even though I knew neither of us had protection. I keep running over and over it in my mind and asking the same questions. Wasn't I old enough to know better? Why couldn't see how suspicious his story was, how I could have let him fool me so completely? How could I have let him con me like that?!" Skye sobbed, but didn't wipe her eyes.
"I slept with him too," May said quietly, "and I'm older than you." Old enough that protection isn't a major concern. If I were thirty years younger, though, it could be me crying right now.
May continued, "I've literally got decades of experience in fooling people professionally, but he still fooled me." She stood up and grabbed a few tissues from the vanity. "He fooled all of us. We all trusted him. That was not your fault." When Skye didn't move to take the tissues from her hand, she sat on the bed next to her, put an arm around her shoulders, and wiped her protégé's tears away herself.
Skye gulped and said, "But it's still my fault that I killed my baby."
Damn Ward to hell twice. "You know," May said, "Three out of ten American women terminate a pregnancy at some point. Zero American men ever do. Yet every single unexpected pregnancy started with a man in the room. If you ask me, having to make this decision wasn't your fault. Or at least, not yours alone. Ward made all his choices, every day since he was fifteen, and he always chose the wrong things. He chose to seduce you when he knew there was no way you two could stay together, and that took away your chance to choose."
Skye grabbed another tissue and blew her nose loudly. "I still wish I could've chosen another way."
Live long enough, and you'll find yourself wishing that about a lot of things. I could tell you stories about regrets that would curl your hair. May shifted, trying to support Skye without invading her space too much. "Phil told me something once that's helped me get through a lot of regret," she said, pushing away the wave of emotions this quote always inspired in her. "He said, 'You can't undo what's been done. That will be with you forever. But clinging to the person you thought you could be, that's hell.' Skye, you're never going to forget what happened today. You may find yourself thinking about it months, even years down the line. Wondering if you could have done something different, whether there was any hope of raising your child, what he or she would have looked like, been like . . ." A voice echoed in her mind, If I'd had him, I'd be a grandmother by now. She shrugged that memory away. "But you're going to find a way to live with your new reality, with this part of your story. Trust me."
Skye looked at her mentor for a long minute. That's probably the most she's ever said to me at one time. Feeling childish and weak, she asked, "Will I really?"
May gave her a slight squeeze. "You will."