Dreams Adrift (A River Dream Novel) (12 page)

The architect who drew up the plans for River
Dream was available and soon had plans for the new room drawn up.
The contractor who built the house didn’t handle small projects
like additions but recommended someone he said would do an
excellent job. While I handled that part of the task, Maeve
concentrated on planning the interior of the nursery. We were busy
with preparations and excited about the adventure of becoming new
parents.

Sixteen

Only we didn’t. One morning in early May,
Maeve woke up with bad cramps and pain.

“
Michael!” she cried from her side
of the bed, curled into a ball and holding her stomach.
“Something’s wrong. It hurts so bad.”

A cold chill swept over me as I looked at her
lying there. Trying to stay calm, I helped Maeve to her feet so she
could get to the bathroom. That’s when I noticed the blood spots on
the sheets.

“
You’re bleeding, Maeve,” I said
in a quavering voice. “I think we need to get you to the
hospital.”

Maeve’s body shuddered. She looked up at me,
tears filling her eyes, whether from pain or fear I couldn’t tell.
“Yes,” she choked out through clenched teeth. “Right now,
Michael.”

I helped her lie down on the edge of the bed
and dressed as quickly as I could. With fear in our hearts, we
rushed to the hospital where we learned the bad news.

“
Mr. and Mrs. Lanier,” the
Emergency Room resident said, “we did everything we could. I’m
sorry. We couldn’t save your baby.”

Maeve had miscarried. We’d lost our
child.

I put my arm around Maeve and pulled her
close. She buried her head against my chest and sobbed. I stroked
her hair as my tears fell, unable to put into words the agony we
were feeling in our hearts.

Maeve was moved into a private room shortly
after the resident made his sad announcement. Her obstetrician
arrived as they were getting her settled in. There in that hospital
room, I sat by Maeve’s bed and held her hand while the doctor tried
to assure us that these things sometimes happen, they were no one’s
fault, and that there was no reason she could see that we couldn’t
try again once we were ready.

Maeve and I accepted her assurances stoically.
They kept Maeve overnight for observation and let me stay with her.
The next morning the doctor told Maeve that she could go home. I
contacted the school and told them they needed to arrange a
substitute for the rest of the week.

I took Maeve to the house on Wrightsville
Beach. She slept most of the day. I kept myself busy cleaning the
house, keeping an ear out for Maeve should she need me. The next
morning I woke to find Maeve already up and making breakfast in the
kitchen.

“
You should be in bed,” I said,
walking up behind her and putting my arms around her.

Maeve leaned her head back against my
shoulder. “I want to go home, Michael,” she said. “I don’t want to
stay here right now.”

Maeve insisted she was up to the trip, so,
after letting her folks and mine know we were going, I took her
home to River Dream. That night on the front porch, mugs of hot tea
in hand, we talked about what to do next.

“
Maeve, if you want to stay here,
if you want to go somewhere, or if you want to go back to your
classroom, that is what we’ll do,” I told her. “Just know how much
I love you and that nothing is more important to me than
you.”

“
I know, Michael. I love you, too.
It’s just that I was so looking forward to becoming a mom,” Maeve
said, unstoppable tears streaking her cheeks. “I feel like I’ve
failed somehow.”

I set my teacup down and put my arm around
her. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t fail. Nature is cruel sometimes,
and there is nothing we can do about it. What we can do is keep
loving each other and keep on trying.”

“
I do love you, Michael, and I do
want to have your baby. I know that you’ll be a great dad,” Maeve
said, before she broke down and began to sob.

I held her and whispered loving and reassuring
things to her. I held her until her sobs subsided, until she’d
cried as many tears as she needed to cry.

She heaved a great sigh, looked up at me, and
said, “I’ll be all right now, love. Thank you. Thank you for loving
me.” She smiled through trails of tears mapping the heartbreak on
her lovely face.

Gently brushing a tear from her cheek, I
promised her, “I will always love you, Maeve. Nothing will ever
stop me from loving you.”

Seventeen

The next morning dawned clear and cool with a
light northwesterly breeze.

Looking out over the Neuse, I said to Maeve,
“I think we should take
Riverscape
out for a sail. Some time
on the water would do us good.”

Having convinced Maeve that a day of sailing
was just what we needed, it didn’t take me long to rig
Riverscape
. After breakfast, we put the wind to our backs
and headed downriver toward Pamlico Sound.

Maeve started near the front of the cockpit,
looking out over the river as it rushed by our hull. After a time
she moved back beside me. We ran before the wind, leaving our pain
and loss behind us. Christopher Cross said it best in his song,
“The canvas can do miracles.” We found some peace as the wind
carried us beyond our tears.

“
Michael, we can turn back now,”
Maeve told me as we passed the mouth of South River. Those were the
first words she’s said since we’d left the dock. Her face, which
had been drawn and creased, was now peaceful and
relaxed.

“
All right, sweetheart,” I
said.

We tacked hard about and brought
Riverscape
close hauled on a course for River Dream. Upon
arriving home, I helped Maeve up onto the dock. She went on up to
the house while I secured
Riverscape
. She was in the kitchen
putting water on for tea when I got there.

“
What would you like me make you
for lunch, sweetheart?” I asked Maeve. “How about some grilled
cheese and tomato soup?”

“
I think that would be perfect,
Michael,” Maeve said with a tired smile as she took a seat at the
kitchen table.

She was quiet while I prepared lunch. As I set
her plate and mug of steaming soup before her, she smiled up at
me.

“
You take such good care of me,
Michael,” she said. “Thank you.”

“
I’ll always be here to take care
of you, Maeve,” I said as I sat down with my lunch. “I love
you.”

“
I know you do, Michael. I love
you, too.” Maeve took a careful sip of her soup.

“
Michael, after lunch I’d like to
drive out to the stable,” Maeve said. “I’d like to see
Raven.”

“
All right,” I said.

I thought seeing Raven might be good for her,
so after I cleaned up from lunch we drove the Cherokee to R&R.
Rita knew Maeve well enough to know something was wrong as soon as
Maeve walked into the barn.

“
Maeve,” Rita asked her, “is
everything all right?”

Maeve just shook her head as she walked by on
her way to Raven’s stall. I stopped to explain to Rita what had
happened.

“
Oh, Michael,” Rita said. “I’m so
sorry.”

She went immediately to Maeve’s side. Maeve
had reached Raven’s stall. Raven came to the door and was standing
there still and quiet while Maeve stroked her cheek. It was as
though Raven could sense what Maeve was feeling.

“
Maeve, honey, I’m so sorry,” Rita
said as she put her arm around her.

Maeve took a deep breath before replying,
“Thank you, Rita.”

Later in the week, Maeve felt she was up to
some riding and spent some time at the stable with Raven. I went
with her the first day to keep an eye on her and make sure she was
really up to it. I was being overprotective, but Maeve didn’t seem
to mind.

The next day she insisted I stay home and get
some work done around the house. As there really wasn’t anything
for me to do, I spent the time working on
Geddaway
instead.
I planned on us taking her over to Morehead City for the weekend.
On that trip we discussed several things.

Maeve and I decided to postpone our open-water
crossing to Bermuda, planned for that summer, until fall. Second,
we decided that Maeve was going to take a year off from teaching so
we could concentrate on baby making. In conjunction with that, I
would take a sabbatical from the university and my master’s degree
work.

We would spend the summer at River Dream
sailing and practicing for the trip to Bermuda. Also, Maeve would
get to spend lots of time riding Raven. There was one other
important thing we decided. Instead of chartering a boat for the
crossing to Bermuda, we decided to buy a bigger boat.
Geddaway
might have been enough of a boat, but I wasn’t one
to turn down the chance to buy bigger boat!

We returned to Wilmington after our cruise to
Morehead City so Maeve could finish out the school year and break
the news that she was taking at least a year off. Her principal was
sorry to see her go but very understanding about the reasons. As
the school year drew to an end, we closed up the Nadeau house and
prepared for our longest stay yet at River Dream.

“
It’s funny, isn’t it, Mike? This
will be the longest we’ve ever lived at home,” Maeve
quipped.

“
It is a little ironic, isn’t it?”
I replied.

Maeve and I settled into life at River Dream.
During the week we alternated time between the stables and the
boats. Weekends Maeve would go trail riding with her horse friends
while I volunteered at camp. Somewhere in between we selected our
new boat, a Beneteau 331. It was seven feet longer and broader in
the beam than
Geddaway
. It was also roomier below decks. We
had chartered an older version of the same boat years earlier on a
trip to Greece and liked it very much. It was supposed to arrive in
mid-August, and we were anxiously awaiting our first sail on
her.

Eighteen

August 5, 1989

It was a warm and hazy Saturday morning that
promised to turn into a hot and humid day. Maeve left at sunup to
meet her riding club at the stables before they loaded up the
horses and headed for the Minnesott ferry landing. They were going
on a trail ride over in the Croatan National Forest. An early start
was planned so they could be back on the ferry and on their way
home before the real heat of the day settled in. I spent the
morning doing some of the eternal maintenance that seems to
accompany sail boat ownership.

The phone call came just as I sat down to have
some lunch. It was my cousin Denise.

“
Mike, there’s been an accident.
Maeve’s hurt. She’s here at Craven Medical, but the Life Lift
chopper is on its way to take her to Pitt.”

I staggered against the counter and nearly
dropped the phone. Taking a firm grip on the handset, I demanded,
“What!?! What happened?”

“
Her horse spooked and threw her.
She landed wrong. It took rescue crews a while to get to her. We’ve
done everything we can here. We’re sending her on to
Pitt.”

“
Is she going to be all right?” I
begged, a sick, sinking feeling grasping my heart.

She took several agonizing seconds to answer.
“Michael, right now, we just don’t know.”

Denise was an Emergency Room resident at
Craven Medical Center. She’d seen a lot of things on the job. If
she was as worried as she sounded, I knew it must be
bad.

“
Michael, you need to get to Pitt
as quickly as you can,” Denise insisted. “I’ll call your mom and
dad. You need to get going now.”

One of the things I learned in the Navy was
how to compartmentalize my feelings. Right then I had to do just
that. I headed out to the airstrip to get the Cessna into the air,
stopping only to check that I had the right chart on board for the
airport in Greenville. Never once did I stop to think about how I
was going to get from the airport to the medical center.

Most of the flight was a blur, but, somehow, I
managed to fly the plane to Pitt County Municipal Airfield. Once
there, I called a cab to get me to the hospital. The people at the
hospital were very helpful and guided me up to the ICU/Trauma unit
where they were doing everything they could for Maeve.

The doctor did not have encouraging news. “The
type of injury your wife has, Mr. Lanier, I’m not sure how she held
on this long.”

Feeling a flicker of possibility, I asked
anxiously, “Does that mean she has a chance?”

“
I can’t give you any false hope,
Mr. Lanier,” the doctor said softly, as if he wished he could say
differently. “Your wife is probably going to die.”

I swallowed hard and tried to accept what he
told me, but I couldn’t.

“
Can I see her?” I
asked.

The doctor looked down at the chart in his
hands before raising his head and meeting my eyes again. “She’s
been drifting in and out of consciousness. I don’t know if she’ll
even know you’re there but, yes, you can see her.”