Thanks to cactuscorsage, bookworm1986, Lilmisfit5290 and Lipamo for their amazing reviews.

Thanks to Terzima (you know how I love your job!)

We're staying with Brody for now.

Enjoy your reading.

A New Life

Part 6

BRODY

The following morning

I opened my eyes at dawn, awakened by the sounds of nature around. Carrie was asleep in her own corner, her back toward me, completely uncovered. I could see the bare nape of her neck. She had been restless for part of the night, it was reassuring to see her at peace. I went to the kitchen, not very big like the rest of the house. I helped myself to a glass of orange juice. We had the surprise to find food of all kind, a closet full of clothes and toiletries. It was a welcoming place; it was not how I imagined a safe house. I went outside to get some fresh air after donning sweatpants, my sneakers and my hooded sweatshirt. The car was parked behind the house.

I walked down the front steps and gained momentum to run a little. I had not exercised for a while. My body seemed to come to life again, I enjoyed the contact of my steps on the ground that crackled because of the scattered leaves and twigs. The sun was low, the weather was cool. I felt safe among the plentiful trees. My mind empty, I only breathed to feed oxygen to my body to give impetus to my muscles.

I didn't know how long I ran, there was a moment when I had to turn around. The closer I got to the safe house, the more problems tried to force their way. I had slept better despite Carrie's kicks. I had been to bed early the night before, and she had done the same. It was hard for her to stay away from me. I was her landmark as she was mine. Once in bed, she had watched me, keeping for herself things she died of telling me. She knew when I was in the mood for talking or not. And it was not the case. She had fallen asleep before me. She lacked sleep. She lacked weight and care. She had neglected herself. And her condition didn't help.

One more time, a leaden shroud crashed on my chest.

A baby –

I saw her before she saw me, sitting on one of the steps, looking lost. I slowed down then walked to meet her, she had already stood up and was waiting for me to come to her. I could see she was making efforts to give me some space, she was swaying from one foot to another, pulling her cardigan closeraroundher, concealing the shoulder strap of her pajama top.

"You got up early," she said simply.
"I needed to run a little."
"You must be hungry?"
"A little."
"Let's get some breakfast."

She was already entering the house, she was barefoot. She liked being barefoot these days. I took my shoes off at the entrance from habit. Sitting at the counter she was using as a worktop, I watched her prepare the food.

"Need some help?"
"No. Let me do it."

She had slept, yet she still had dark rings under her eyes. Her disheveled hair added to her tired look.

"Did you take your vitamins?"
"Oh! Uh – I'll do it."

She was a bit agitated – it contrasted with her physical appearance – and it made her clumsy. I observed her open the gas cylinder with a watchful eye, put eggs on a pan to fry. She rummaged in the fridge, came back, returned to the fridge. She opened all the cupboards and shut them a little too swiftly.

"Did you take your medicines?"
"Yeah, yeah."

Curiously, she avoided my gaze, and it raised my suspicion. It was not the way she usually acted – quite the opposite, actually, her blue eyes tended to force their way through the gate of mine. I went into the bedroom, grabbed the vanity case found in the sports bag and put it on the counter, in the middle of her jumble. She stared at it with wide, annoyed eyes.

"Fuck, Brody!"
"I don't know what you're brooding about, but it's no reason not to remain focused. Take your medicines."

She frowned in my direction. It was not a good sign.

"Please."

She gazed at me carefully, doubts showing on her face. I had seen many times that expression on her face when she suspected me of various things, real or not. Trust had been hard to build for either of us. And even if I had blind confidence in her now, I was unable to say if she was feeling the same.
Her trembling fingers were laid on the edge of the counter. She contracted them to stop the shaking. I saw the change take place. I saw her resign herself. I was puzzled. Yet, I pushed back all negative feelings once the pills were in her mouth.

"Now, that's better."

She sniffed in disdain then resumed what she was doing. I had the impression of being a few months back in time, before everything fell apart. Maybe things could have gone smoothly then; but there had been Langley – and a succession of horrible events that had weakened my faith, my humanity.

"Ready!"

I returned to the present time. This frail woman was a force of nature, the light at the end of my tunnel. Yet, I was unable to reach that light. I remained motionless, watching her cautiously because she tended to irradiate to attract me to her. I could still let go, merge with Carrie, but the separation had been too dreadful, I had broken down into pieces as I had drawn away from her, as I had realized we would never see each other again.

She sat next to me on the high bar stool and set herself to swallow the food heaping up before her apparently in a pre-established order.

"You have a good appetite these days," I pointed out.
"It's the baby," she uttered between two mouthfuls without even glancing at me.
"Now, that's a good excuse," I couldn't help laughing, "at this rate – "

She suspended her gesture, her fork in mid-air, glaring at me. I also suspended my sentence, the remnant of a smile frozen on the corner of my mouth.

"What?"
"Finish your sentence."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by her dry tone. She could be touchy at times, I remembered.

"I was just saying that, at this rate, he or she will be in great shape," I lied shamelessly.
"Yeah, right," she replied sarcastically.

She focused on her food again, I noticed the jerk of her mouth. She was holding back a smile. Then her attention shifted on something else, she was staring at the sunflower that had pride of place in a high vase, near the fridge.

"Do you like sunflowers?" I asked her with interest.
"No. Well, I don't know. I've never been into flowers much. It's an unusual choice, why not a rose?
"Too common, the sunflower is more like you."

She focused on me again, her head leaning forward, her hair dunking in the scrambled eggs on her plate. I held out my hand to pull her hair back but she caught it and put her cheek against it. She smiled broadly.

"You'll think I'm being mawkish but I like it when you care about me and my well-being."

I didn't answer, baffled as usual by the candor she could display sometimes.

"I often tend to neglect myself, but this time, I'm making efforts, I assure you, I take this all very seriously. But –"

Happiness was gone, tears were filling her eyes, lessening their impact on me. She quickly shifted from laughter to tears, it was disconcerting.

"What's wrong? Is it your family again?"
"They'll never see this baby. My father will never know that he is a grandfather. He thought that with some effort, I could live a normal life, he would have been happy to see that I've been able to find the man of my life and start a family. "

She was emotional and didn't hide it, I envied her sometimes, I would have liked to express more things. I didn't pick up on what she had just said, too stunned by the importance she gave me. I had to try and raise her spirits.

"In a while, maybe you'll be able to get in touch with your father –"

"They think we're dead, Brody! All of us!"

I recoiled, stunned by her words, trying to make sense of them.

"What are you talking about?"

She gave me my hand back and decided to gaze at her plate.

"Carrie?"

She remained silent.

"CARRIE!"

She jumped when my fist slammed near her plate. I immediately regretted losing my temper, I didn't want to stress her out, but I definitely needed some explanation.

"I heard it on the news."

And she gave me a detailed account of the grim staging organized by our government. My stomach twisted, thankfully, I hadn't had anything to eat.

"Well, at least, things are clear now," I scoffed bitterly, "what a relief for my family."
"Is it?"

I scrutinized her with anger, her tears had dried up. She was regaining her usual analytical temperament, hanging tough. She slid the stool nearer.

"Do you really think your family is happy that you're dead?"
"Happy, no, but relieved, yes."
"They loved you, they have to be sad."

I knew what she was trying to do while her hands encircled my face, but she wouldn't succeed. She was wrong. She was wrong. The stitches holding each of my wounds were snapping one by one.

"No," I refused to listen to her, "no, no, no."

I pushed her hands back and went into the bedroom. I undressed in a few seconds and got into the bathroom. In the shower, the tepid stream of water was feeble.
I was feeling as bad when I stepped out of it.

The day went by without any more words, I barely ate, slept a little, prepared some wood for the fireplace. The night arrived, she ate by herself, waited for me to come to bed, when I saw she was waiting, I went to bed too. She slipped between the sheets, watched me while I was taking my tee-shirt off, putting on pajama pants, they looked a bit like hers, made of checkered cotton. Once comfortable, I pretended to take one of the books laid down unsorted near the bed. I skimmed a few pages but didn't understand anything. Her heavy stare unsettled me. I finally relaxed since she didn't speak and fell asleep. I put the book down to do the same. I turned off the lamp.

Her sleep was troubled again, now, I knew why. She also suffered from the situation even if it wasn't for the same reasons. I rubbed her back, her arms, whispering reassuring words. It was effective, she calmed down. She mumbled a few words:
"Don't be angry, don't let me down."

I was part of her fears, too. I kept on reassuring her until she went back to sleep. Her being there was a peace haven. I had no nightmares, but I dreamed –

"Dad?"
Dana was standing in front of me, reaching out for me.
"I was so worried, where were you?"
My heart was mended, and it overflowed with love. I reached out for her too. As we were drawing nearer, she was getting younger. She was eight by the time my hand touched hers. I yanked for fear she would vanish. She collided with me, and embraced me with her frail arms.

"Where's Chris?" I asked her.
"With mom, behind us."
I turned round. They were there indeed, frowning, their faces inscrutable. They were staring at Dana in my arms.
"Why are they looking at me like this?"
I didn't recognize Dana's voice. I stiffened when I saw a two or three-year-old little girl with curly blond hair and blue eyes in her place.
"Dad? Daddy?"
You could see fear on her face.
"Daddy, I'm scared."
I held her tight against me.
"Don't worry, Daddy's here, he will watch over you."
I turned slightly, Chris, Dana and Jessica were walking away and becoming nothing but a dot in the distance.

I woke up suddenly. Carrie was gone. I went outside and around the house, the car was gone too. As my heart started to race, I took a deep breath and stayed there to wait. My interrogations only lasted five minutes, I heard the sound of an engine. She got out of the car with a bag full of stuff under her arm.

"I'm sorry I sneaked away."
"I'd have preferred to go with you."

I realized that her disappearance had worried me immensely.

"I think it's better not to go anywhere, even less the two of us together."
She circled the nape of my neck with her arm, holding me against her. She kissed my cheek.
"You're still angry?" she asked apprehensively in my ear.

"What have you got?" I eluded.

She handed me the bag with a sigh, I quickly went through its contents while we were going back inside. There were some candies, bread, even an English newspaper. There was also a book – where the heck did she get it! – I took it to read the title: "Nine Months, How to Live Our Pregnancy." There was a caricature of a man and a woman, the first holding the second – her back toward him – in his arms. I suddenly broke into a sweat. She grabbed it and went and sat on the couch near the fireplace. It took me several minutes to stop gawking at her like a dimwit. She was so focused, searching for answers, that she didn't notice my inertia.

I put the bag on the counter, decided to make breakfast to keep busy.
She came once to take a chocolate bar and then returned on the couch. I only realized then that she was wearing a blue dress, a dress!

After the initial shock, I scrutinized her thoroughly. The stretch fabric fitted her forms, you couldn't miss her condition. I felt guilty to linger over her cleavage, her legs that were folded under her, to find her so desirable, more than she had ever been. Her eyes crossed mine, the chocolate bar still in her mouth, triggering a devastating fire that I couldn't conceal. I realized vaguely that she was blushing. I forced myself to resume what I was doing. I heard her stand up, place herself behind me. Her mouth fluttered on my bare back, her kisses were like tiny electric shocks.

A burning smell jolted me back to reality, I jumped toward the frying pan.

"Shit!"

I groaned, groaned and groaned again. It was a way to express my frustration. How could I do it? How could I get closer to her without being resentful? I dropped everything in the sink, furious. I bent over it, my breath was ragged. I still had too much anger in me but it was better than sinking because of my desolated soul. My past was a tall wall of pain that I tried to push into the background. And anger helped, except that at that precise moment, I wanted something else.

"Brody?"

She was back on the couch. She always used a specific tone when she called me. It was always full of urgency. There was nothing I could do but walk up to her. As soon as I sat down, she squeezed up against me, threw the book far away. It fell on the floor with a thump.

"We'll make it, won't we?"

I stroked her hair without a word, thinking back on the little blond girl of my dream.

More to come soon.