Between the Lanterns(33)

“Yes, Mr. Lurie. Your baby is dead, and we need to remove it before it can cause further complications for your wife. This procedure is standard. Many pregnancies end in miscarriage, and those that end this far along will require a procedure to remove the dead fetus,” Dr. Granger said, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I wish you wouldn’t use such unkind words, Doc. All of this... losing our baby... it ain’t an easy thing for us to deal with,” August replied softly.

Dr. Granger put down the paper he was holding, and looked at August without emotion, saying, “Nonsense. It’s a part of life, and you two will be ok. You can try again for another child in a year. And the procedure is simple and straightforward. You’ll be sleeping in your own bed tonight, side -by -side.”

August’s fists balled up at his sides as he contemplated punching this “professional” for taking this tragedy too lightly. Samantha sensed her husband’s anger and squeezed his arm a little. August turned around to look into his wife’s dark eyes. He wiped the tears off of her cheek and stroked her straight, black hair. Then he collapsed into her lap and held her around her stomach.

Samantha wiped the rest of her tears away and cleared her throat. She regained control, looked the doctor right in his face, and said, “Ok, sweets. Let’s do the procedure. I want this all over with and done. What do I need to do?”

“Just follow me in here, Patient Lurie,” he replied. “We’ll need to fill out a few forms, and then we can get started. It won’t take long. And don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit.”

“Sweets,” she said, fighting off more tears, “it can’t hurt any worse than it already does.”

incLater, Samantha and August lay in their own bed, side -by -side. They held hands under the covers. All of the lights in the house were out, except for the two lanterns that hovered on either side of their bed. It was late, but neither of them cared what time it was.

They hadn’t said a word since coming home. August had carried her in from the taxi, all the way to the bed. He had fixed her some sweet tea and made sure she was propped up and comfortable. He didn’t cook dinner because he wasn’t hungry, and he was sure that she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of food.

Samantha appreciated the fact that August had silently taken care of everything. She didn’t need to hear words right now. Samantha didn’t want to talk. All she needed was for him to be there.

And he was.

August had been sure to make his wife feel better, but inside he felt as if his entire life had been a trick played on him by God. His awful parents never loved him,; his amazing Granny being taken away from him,; meeting John and having him taken away, too,; the diner being burnt down and Tara dying,; the accident at the factory,; the lawsuit,; and now the miscarriage. The only thing that stopped him from jumping off the nearest bridge was what Samantha had said to him when he was depressed about the accident:, “As long as we’ve got each other.”

He rolled over and kissed Samantha on her cheek, snuggled up close to her, and quickly fell into a deep sleep. It had been a very long day.

Samantha watched his chest rise and fall and noticed his breathing even out into a peaceful rhythm. She thought about what she had said to him when he was depressed over the accident at his factory, “As long as we’ve got each other,” and smiled. Then she fell into a deep sleep, too.





-





“What are you doing in here, sweets?” Samantha asked her husband.

August had been in his workshop all day. First sketching, then scavenging material from half-finished projects, and finally beginning to put something big together.

He smiled up at her and shrugged his shoulders, explaining, “I’m makin’ Woodrow 2.0. Woodrow the Second. Woodrow Reborn!”

“But sweets, won’t they just sue us again?” she asked warily. “I don’t think I could handle that right now.”

“Aha!” August exclaimed, expecting the question. “They can’t sue me if I make somethin’ completely different from what they’re doin’. I’m startin’ from scratch, basically. I’m usin’ all the ideas that I had while workin’ there that I never tried. I never wrote them down or told them to anyone. They only ever existed in my mind. It’s gonna be better than anythin’ Montek ever made,” he told her with more excitement than she expected. “And I’ve decided that when I go to consult there for a year, startin’ next month, I’m only gonna give them about one-third of what I would have before.”

Samantha was a little worried about her man. They had both felt down ever since the D and C procedure a week ago, but August seemed frantic now; frantic in a happy kind of way, but she could tell there was more underneath, a kind of desperation.

“Ok, sweets,” she told August. “It sounds wonderful. Can I do anything? I assume you’ll be making him out of wood again. Can I help with that?”

August’s smile spread even wider as he said, “I was hopin’ you’d offer, Sam. It seems right that we make him together like we did with the last one.”

Samantha wasn’t sure if he meant Woodrow or the baby. August handed her a set of plans for the framework of their new wooden automaton, and he was right. This design was much different than anything Montek had ever done. It was better, too.