He lounged around while she took a handful of bright spring dresses and moved into the changing room. Fifteen minutes passed before she returned, and to Steve it felt like a lifetime.
When she returned, she went back to the rack and replaced all but one of the dresses. She held up a pretty blue one with a wide sailor’s collar and red tie and studied it carefully. Apparently she changed her mind because she hung it back up with the others. Still she lingered an extra minute, continuing to examine the outfit. She ran her fingers down the sleeve to catch the price tag, read it, shook her head and reluctantly walked away.
The minute she was out of sight, Steve was at the clothing rack. Obviously she wanted the dress, yet she hadn’t bought it. He checked the price tag and frowned. It was moderately priced, certainly not exorbitant. If she wanted it, which she apparently did, then she should have it.
For the second time in the same day, Steve found himself making a purchase that was difficult to rationalize. It wasn’t as if he had any use for a maternity dress. But why not? he asked himself. If he left the rattle in her car it shouldn’t make any difference if he added a dress. It wasn’t likely that she would tie him to either purchase. Let her think her fairy godmother was gifting her.
From his position at the cash register, Steve saw Carol walk through the infant’s department. She ran her hand over the top rail of a white Jenny Lind crib and examined it with a look of such sweet anticipation that Steve felt guilty for invading her privacy.
"Would you like this dress on the hanger or in a sack?" the salesclerk asked him.
It took Steve a moment to realize she was talking to him. "A sack, please." He couldn’t very well walk through the mall carrying a maternity dress.
Carol bought something, too, but Steve couldn’t see what it was. Infant T-shirts or something like that, he guessed. His vantage point in the furniture department wasn’t the best. Carol started to walk toward him, and he turned abruptly and pretended to be testing out a recliner.
Apparently she didn’t see him, and he settled into the seat and expelled a sigh of relief.
"Can I help you?" a salesclerk asked.
"Ah, no, thanks," he said, getting to his feet.
Carol headed down the escalator, and Steve scooted around a couple of women pushing baby strollers in an effort not to lose sight of her.
Carol’s steps were filled with purpose as she moved down the wide aisle to women’s shoes. She picked up a red low-heeled dress shoe that was on display, but when the clerk approached, she smiled and shook her head. Within a couple of minutes she was on her way.
Feeling more like a fool with every minute, Steve followed her out of the store and into the heart of the mall. The place was packed, as it generally was on Saturday afternoon. Usually Steve avoided the mall on weekends, preferring to do his shopping during the day or at night.
He saw Carol stop at a flower stand and buy herself a red rosebud. She’d always been fond of flowers, and he was pleased that she treated herself to something special.
She’d gone only a few steps when he noticed that her steps had slowed.
Something was wrong. He could tell from the way she walked. He cut across to the other side, where the flow of shoppers was heading in the opposite direction. Feeling like a secret government agent, he pressed himself against the storefront in an effort to watch her more closely. She had pressed her hand to her abdomen and her face had gone deathly pale. She was in serious pain, he determined as a sense of alarm filled him. Steve could feel it as strongly as if he were the one suffering.
Although he was certain she had full view of him, Carol didn’t notice. She cut across the streams of shoppers to the benches that lined the middle of the concourse and sat. Her shoulders moved up and down as though she were taking in deep breaths in an effort to control her reaction to whatever was happening. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.
The alarm turned to panic. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t rush up to her and demand to know what was wrong. Nor could he casually stroll by and pretend he just happened to be shopping and had stumbled upon her. But something needed to be done – someone had to help her.
Steve had never felt more helpless in his life. Not knowing what else he could do, he walked up and plopped himself down next to her.
"Hi," he said in a falsely cheerful voice.
"Steve." She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She reached for his hand, gripping it so hard her nails cut into his flesh.
All pretense was gone, wiped away by the stampeding fear he sensed in her.
"What’s wrong?"
She shook her head. "I… I don’t know."
Her eyes widened and he was struck by how yellow her skin was. He took her hand in both of his. "You’re in pain?" She nodded. Her fear palatable. "I’m so afraid."
"What do you want me to do?" He debated on whether he should could call for an ambulance or contact her doctor and have him meet them at the hospital. "I… don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve had this pain twice, but it’s always gone away after a couple of minutes." She closed her eyes. "Oh, Steve, I’m so afraid I’m going to lose my baby."
Chapter Twelve
Restless, Steve paced the corridor of the maternity ward in Overtake Hospital, his hands stuffed inside his pants pockets. He felt as though he were carrying the world on his shoulders. Each passing minute tightened the knot in his stomach until he was consumed with worry and dread.
He wanted to see Carol – he longed to talk to her – but there wasn’t anything more for him to say. He’d done what he could for her, and by rights he should leave. But he couldn’t walk away from her. Not now. Not when she needed him.
Not knowing what else to do, he found a pay phone and contacted his sister.
"Lindy, it’s Steve."