Chapter 15

"What's wrong with him?" asked Hank, pushing a few long strands of his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

It needed more than a light push to throw Hank, but since Myra was back with the child from St. Louis, he grew more and more nervous. It wasn't only about the boy that refused to speak, better said to communicate at all, it was the way Myra had changed. His former rather shy wife had transformed into a lioness that was protecting her cub, yet this was not about baby Samantha but her late sister's son.

Impatiently waiting for her reply, Hank looked at Michaela who had just left the room where she'd examined the boy.

"Let's sit down," Michaela suggested, gently touching his upper arm.

"I don't wanna sit," Hank retorted irritated, his volume rising a notch.

Smiling up at him in a disarming way, Michaela raised one eyebrow. "I do."

Hank let out a snort in response, yet his grin indicated that he had gotten her point. "Alright," he muttered under his breath, leading the way to the kitchen.

"So, what's wrong with him?" he repeated his question as they had taken their seats across from each other at the table.

"Can you help him?" Myra, who had unbeknownst to them entered the small room as well, asked. Her voice was full of trust and hope after she had seen how Zack had began listening and even replying, if only with single words, when Dr. Mike talked to him.

Michaela sighed. "I'm not a psychiatrist, but I know an excellent one and will ask her to examine Zack."

"He ain't normal?" Hank interrupted her, sounding as if he had suspected as much.

"'Course he is," Myra shot back. "He's gone through a terrible shock. The last he knew was that the family was driving in the car, and when he woke up he was in a hospital, all alone and never saw my sister and her husband again. He's five years old, for heaven's sake!"

Michaela tiredly rubbed her brow. She had hoped that Myra had told Hank the truth once she arrived with Zack; with every minute she waited longer it would become more difficult. To herself, the resemblance between mother and son was obvious, and it was only a matter of time until Hank noticed as well.

Michaela wished this was only about a shock the child had to deal with. Yet she had observed the little boy for some minutes and then tried to attract his attention, which had proved to be a difficult task. She knew though that she wasn't the person to find the right therapy because she only knew the basics about autism, and that she'd just seen a case of it she was sure about.

However, Hank and Myra needed some instructions immediately and thus she said diplomatically, "I'm certain that the terrible shock aggravated Zack's condition considerably. The best we can do is make him feel safe." She turned towards Myra, "Have you seen his room back there in St. Louis?"

Gaining an insecure nod in response, Michaela continued, "Have you brought all his things?"

"Yeah, I packed a few cardboard boxes. They are still in the garage."

Myra still didn't know where these questions were to lead whilst Hank simply stared at Michaela, waiting for her to get to the point. And she did him the favor, explaining, "It is vital for Zack to feel safe, having familiar things around him. This way he feels he has control over what happens, and it allows him to stay calm. It will be a great help for him when you give him a schedule that repeats itself every day. Don't try to make him do things he doesn't want to do, unless they are necessary like washing himself or eating. If you agree, I will make an appointment with Dr. Lindsay for you; I'm sure she can tell you a lot more about Zack's condition and what to do about it."

Seeing the couple wasn't happy about what she'd just told them, Michaela glanced from Myra, who still stood in the middle of the room, to Hank. It was obvious that the news were much harder for him to take, and thus Michaela turned to him. He sat hunched over the table, his forearms lying on its top. Touching his clenched hands, Michaela said softly, "But there is good news about his physical injuries. The wound from the spleen surgery is healing nicely, and I'm positive that the fracture of his right arm will do so as well."

xxx

When Michaela pulled into the yard two hours after she'd left, Sully's van truck still stood there. Only now did she realize that she had secretly hoped that it would be gone for she was too tired for having another discussion. Her hope to manage to get upstairs to her room without the men noticing her was dashed though when she saw Wolf rushing out of the house to welcome her.

However, she was still determined to avoid any argument for she knew she was in a state of exhaustion where she might say things she would regret later. That was why she didn't enter the kitchen but remained on the threshold when she told them she would lie down for the night.

"Shouldn't ya eat before ya turn in?" Sully asked in a strange tone. He sat in his wheelchair that seemed to be stuck between the kitchen counter and the table that was already set for three. Scrutinizing her face, he held something clutched in his right hand, but Michaela didn't notice.

"Thank you for the offer," she replied somewhat coolly, already feeling sick from the smell of the cooked meal. She knew she wouldn't be able to swallow one single bite. "I already ate with Myra and Hank," she excused herself, astonished that the lie passed her lips so easily.

When she turned in order to leave, Sully's voice stopped her. "Found somethin'", he said, lifting his hand.

As Michaela looked back at him, he slowly loosened his fingers until he revealed a small medicine bottle. The label read FOLIC ACID, and of course Michaela instantly recognized it. She had bought the pills on her way home from Charlotte the other night, and left them on the kitchen counter, assuming she was the only one using the room for a while so no one would see them and draw conclusions.

Whilst Daniel, who was sitting at the end of the table, looked puzzled, Michaela prepared herself for what was coming. Squaring her shoulders, she didn't avert her eyes from Sully but waited for him to go on.

"Abby needed them when she was pregnant," he at last said, his voice strained.

For some reason, Sully mentioning his late wife pushed Michaela over the edge. "I'm not Abigail," she huffed irritably, "I'm only tired. I hope you don't mind when I'll go upstairs and lie down."

As she pivoted, Sully stopped her again, "Ya didn't answer my question," he stated quietly, seemingly unaffected by her attack.

"Because you didn't ask one," Michaela shot back, not halting in her tracks.

"Are ya pregnant?" Sully didn't give up.

Turning around, Michaela resumed her place on the threshold. She was so upset that she could barely breathe when she set him straight, glaring, "Nothing about my condition is your business. Take finally care of yourself; then you'll have enough to do! And now excuse me, I desperately need some sleep!"

As sudden as her outburst had started, as quickly it was over. Michaela knew that yelling at Sully didn't solve anything, but at least she felt a bit better now. Only on her way up the stairs did she notice that her cheeks were wet with tears. Annoyed with herself, she wiped them away, hoping that they had only started flowing after she'd turned her back to the men.

In the kitchen, Sully had moved his wheelchair so he could look at his friend. "She was sick this morning," Daniel informed him, "claiming she ate something wrong last night."

Sully nodded thoughtfully, "She's tired all the time, and I've never before seen her losing her temper so quickly. It's been the same with Abby when she was expectin'."

Daniel let out an exasperated sigh, "How'd ya like it if Michaela compared ya to that David guy all the time?"

Yet it was as if Sully didn't hear him. Slowly the truth sank in. He would be a father before the year was over. If he hadn't already sat, he would have needed a chair for he suddenly felt strangely weak. This state lasted only a moment though, and then a never known stream of energy flooded through his body.

"Alright," he at last said, re-directing his gaze at Daniel, "I can't stay here 'cause here's not enough room for me to move around in that darn wheelchair, but I don't want Michaela to be alone when she's at home. Could ya take care of her as long as you're in town?"

"Sure," Daniel agreed. "But what about you? Michaela's right; ya should…"

"I know," Sully cut him off. "It's too late to make any calls today; I'll start workin' my way down the list of numbers she gave me first thing in the mornin'."

xxx

That night, the sound of her cell phone ringing woke Michaela long before dawn. It was Myra who was on the verge of losing it because Zack hadn't simply cried but thrown fits since he'd been put to bed and only fell asleep for minutes out of exhaustion in between. Michaela instantly promised to come, knowing that nothing but a sedative shot would help to give the boy and his family some peace.

Of course she knew that this could not be a long-term solution, and thus she put all her power of convincing in her pleading with Sam Lindsay's assistant in the morning so as to get an appointment with the psychiatrist still on the very same day. Fortunately, she succeeded.

On the first session, the adults agreed that Michaela would stay at the hotel until Zack had at least one quiet night. So as to help giving the little boy a sense of normality again, Myra would show him all the things she had brought from his home in St. Louis so he could decide which ones he wanted to keep. In the mornings, Zack would visit an institution that could take care of his special needs.

However, due to these arrangements, Michaela didn't sleep in her own apartment but in the Gold Nugget for the following days. Actually, this suited her just fine. With Daniel in town, she never knew when Sully would appear at the house, but she wasn't ready to discuss with him again. Too many things were still to contemplate, and there were a few topics she didn't even want to think about. Yet all that didn't mean that she neglected Wolf. By visiting him and taking him for walks, she attempted to keep a sense of normality, trying this way to avoid upsetting the dog.

As far as Sully was concerned, he had chosen and already seen one of the physiotherapists from Michaela's list who offered not only the usual therapy but special swimming sessions in one of the town's pools that was provided with water from a hot spring, too. Sully even listened to Daniel who suggested giving Michaela a break and staying away from the house for at least an entire day.

Yet then he couldn't wait any longer. He hadn't seen her for more than twenty-four hours, which had never happened since she'd moved in with him. He not only missed her; he also needed some answers. The most important to him was the one to the question why she didn't want to marry him although she was pregnant. When she'd rejected his proposal, he could follow her reasoning and thought it understandable, but not anymore. Not with the knowledge that a baby was on the way.

For a day in April, the weather was lousy, and an especially unpleasant cold wind sneaked under every layer of clothes Sully wore. Sitting in his wheelchair right before the porch, he watched how Michael threw sticks for Wolf to bring them back to her. It was obvious that his dog enjoyed the game but Michaela was rather tense. Apart from a "Hello" she hadn't said anything yet, but Sully was determined to make her speak.

He chose a moment when she was waiting for Wolf to return to her with the stick. "Will ya ever talk to me again?" he asked quietly.

She stood close enough to understand him, and Sully heard her exhale before she eventually said, "I'm tired, Sully. I'm tired of fighting, of always having to defend myself. I know you meant well and didn't want to burden me. But when I told you it wasn't up to you to make my decisions, you still didn't listen. You pushed me away."

"I know," he hastily chimed in, "and I apologize."

Yet Michaela continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "And I just can't help myself but wonder why Catherine was always welcome."

Momentarily at a loss for words, Sully gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, his knuckles turning white. Back then, his argument of helping Catherine to get over her feelings of guilt had made sense, but it seemed pointless now. How could he ever explain that to Michaela, now that he barely understood it for himself anymore?

"I'm sorry," he tried at last, "But ya know that she was never more to me than just a friend."

Michaela didn't react to this statement but turned back to Wolf who had brought her the stick to throw it again. As she did so, she considered for a split second to follow the bundle of fur, yet she didn't want Sully to think that she ran away. She never did that, and thus she stayed where she was.

It was Sully though who resumed the conversation. "Can we talk about the baby?" he asked. His tone indicated that he wouldn't give up on this theme, which instantly woke Michaela's stubborn streak.

Dr. Bernard had affirmed her being pregnant in the morning, and although she had known it before, it was real only now. She still hadn't comprehended all the consequences, and before she was ready to discuss any of them with Sully, she needed to come to terms with them for herself first.

"No," she simply said. As she turned back to him, her eyes dared him to counter her.

Although Sully should have been warned by her facial expression, he pressed, "Why not? It affects me as much as it does you."

"No, it doesn't," Michaela glowered at him. "It's me who has to go through the morning sickness and who's tired all the time. It's my body that will change, not yours."

"Yeah," Sully acknowledged. The more upset Michaela became, the calmer he grew. Pushing the wheels of his chair, he rolled towards her, only stopping directly before her. He knew he was in a bad position to argue, and not only because he had to look up at her from his sitting position. He still said it though, "But in the end it'll be our child."

This was one of the facts Michaela hadn't dared to think about yet, and his speaking it out loud it stopped her from confronting him with the accusation that he didn't even want a child. It was clear now that he had dropped the idea. She was positive that he did so the moment he learned that she was pregnant. As much as she fancied the idea that this was only about her, she still acknowledged that he was right.

The anger she'd felt minutes before faded as quickly as it had come. She knew that Sully still waited for her response but she needed to collect her thoughts first.

After throwing the stick for Wolf again, she went to the porch stair, sitting down so she was on eye level with Sully who had been following her.

Rubbing her jeans-clad knees with her palms so as to warm herself a bit, she eventually looked at him. "I think," she began hesitantly, averting her eyes again, growing more confident though whilst speaking, "that dealing with the consequences of your accident was the acid test for our relationship. And let's face it, Sully, we didn't pass."

She jumped when he suddenly stilled her hands, covering them with his palms that were miraculously warm. "How 'bout we rather call it a bad rehearsal? You know what they say: it makes a great opening night."

Yet Michaela didn't appreciate his attempt to lighten the atmosphere for it gave her the impression he didn't take her serious. Pulling out her hands from beneath his, she crossed her arms and pressed them against her chest. "Well," she said, "this is real life, not a play. I will be responsible for someone else soon, someone who will depend on me. I don't want to take any risk."

With that she straightened to her feet and went back to playing with Wolf who had patiently waited for her to return to him. For a second, Sully wondered whether he should learn from his four-legged friend.

Neither Sully nor Michaela had any way of knowing that the events of the following day would throw their world into a spin again.