The Mountain Midwife (17 page)

Ashley’s heart wrenched and twisted in her chest. The friend in her wanted to pull over and hold Heather. The midwife in her wanted to warn Heather how bad this was for the baby. The critic in her wanted to shout,
How could you betray him then? He’s kind and smart and ambitious and successful and gorgeous through and through. And best of all, he loves you to distraction.
The gossip in her wanted to ask who was the baby’s father, an aspect she knew she didn’t really want to know in the event she knew him.

She was driving seventy down a major expressway with nowhere to exit in sight. The best she could offer was to open the console and hand Heather a box of tissues. Then she needed to pass a pickup hauling a trailer at ten miles below the speed limit, and the road took all her attention. I-81 was notorious for heavy truck traffic. The closer they drew to Roanoke, the more numerous were the eighteen-wheelers with their loads of everything from logs to turkeys.

In the passenger seat, Heather blew her nose, sobbed some more, blew her nose again, then sat back in the seat. She took several deep and shuddering breaths, caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror, and shrieked. “I look horrible. I can’t go shopping looking like this.”

“There’s some hand sanitizer in the console. You can wash your face with that, and I know you have makeup in your purse.”

The mundane, the need to concentrate on repairing her appearance, would calm Heather. In midwifery school, when Heather got overly stressed about an upcoming exam, Ashley had persuaded her to take a few minutes to give her a makeover or demonstrate how to get her eye shadow to look attractive and not clownish, a skill
at which Ashley forever failed. Even at midnight, Heather loved making up her face to look flawless and stunning. The vanity aspect of it never bothered Ashley, for Heather was also generous and loving.

Had those traits in combination led to her infidelity? Lonely, she had been tempted by someone attracted to her warmth and beauty. Ashley liked to think she herself never would do such a thing if she found a man she loved and who loved her, but maybe she would in a fit of loneliness.

Feeling a little queasy, she spotted the exit she needed for the mall and slowed. Beside her, Heather wiped her face with hand sanitizer and tissues, muttering about how bad it all was for her skin, then she gathered up her purse and began to rummage for a bright-red makeup bag. As Ashley suspected, it contained everything Heather needed to repair her appearance—except for the puffiness around her eyes.

“Can we pull over somewhere?” Heather waved a mascara wand. “I can’t put this on in a moving vehicle.”

“I can hardly put it on while standing still at my bathroom sink.” Ashley turned into the mall parking lot. In the early afternoon of a weekday, it held relatively few cars. She picked a spot near the food court entrance and parked, leaving the heater running against the sharp, cold wind outside. “Talk to me, Heather.”

“I don’t have anything more to say.”

“I let you get away with that once already.” Ashley leaned her back against her door. “I was in shock then, so I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear anything else, but I think it’s beyond that.”

“What?” Heather shoved the mascara into her makeup bag and snatched out a jar of foundation, waving it like a weapon. “You want to know all the salacious details? Who is the father? How did
I end up sleeping with him? How many times did it happen? Did I like—”

“Knock it off.” Ashley didn’t raise her voice; she kept it quiet and firm. “You know me better than that. I want to know about what you plan to do going forward. Why did you tell Ian today, and did he say anything about what he plans to do?”

Heather paused in the act of smoothing foundation over her face and hung her head. “Ian is a smart man. He’s seen me tossing my cookies three mornings in a row because he’s been home late enough in the morning for me to be getting up, and he straight-out asked me.”

Ashley bit her tongue to stop from asking how bad the morning sickness was, what she was doing to control it, was Heather concerned it was still going on.

“And he asked how far along you are.” Ashley could only imagine the impact the news had on Ian.

Heather nodded, then resumed smoothing on her makeup. “Like I said, I thought he would rage at who the man is, go out and punch him or something. But he didn’t. He got tears in his eyes, then broke down.” Her lower lip quivered and she gave her head a violent shake. “I’ve never seen that man cry, not even when his dog died.”

“Do you think maybe you should have canceled this shopping trip?”

“Of course not. I needed space between us.”

Ashley straightened. “You don’t think he would hurt you, do you?”

“Ian hurt me?” Heather gave her a disgusted look. “Of course not. I just mean I couldn’t bear to see his pain any longer.”

“Heather.” Ashley paused to choose her words with care. “Don’t
you think staying there with him would have done more to ease his pain? Or . . . or do you no longer love him?”

“Of course I still love him. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” Tears flooded her eyes again. “I’m a terrible, awful, despicable person for what I did. I hate myself for it. It was a brief and stupid affair, and I thought I could just put it behind me. But then I realized I was pregnant and . . . I’m just completely beyond being forgiven.”

“Heather, you know that’s wrong-headed thinking.”

“Intellectually I know that’s not true. I am certainly sorry for what I did, even without this forever reminder of how awful I am. But I don’t think I will ever forgive myself. And Ian . . . I don’t deserve to have his forgiveness.”

“Maybe marriage counseling?” Ashley was out of her depth there. “I mean, something must have been wrong between the two of you for this to happen in the first place.”

“We didn’t think so, but there must have been.” Heather shoved her makeup bag into her purse without applying blush or powder or lipstick. “I don’t need any more makeup. I need a scarlet letter on my chest.”

“You need lunch, for the sake of the baby, if not yourself.”

Heather reached out and squeezed Ashley’s arm. “Leave it to you to think of the baby. But you’re right. I wish I weren’t hungry. I think I’m supposed to feel so guilty I can’t eat, but once the morning sickness leaves, I am utterly starving. Can I have a burger and fries?”

“How about chicken and salad.”

“As long as the chicken comes in a bun.” Heather reached for the door handle.

Ashley knew it was a signal that the discussion was at an end, but she had one more question. “What about the baby?”

“What about him—or her?”

“Are you going to keep him?”

Heather’s eyes widened, then she puffed out her lips on a sigh. “For a sec I thought you wondered if I was going to abort her, and I was going to go into shock. But you mean am I going to give her up for adoption.”

“Ian may not want to raise another man’s child.”

“Ian may not want to keep a wife who has been with another man.” Heather spoke these words too calmly.

“Did he say anything about leaving you?”

“No, but I wouldn’t blame him if he did once he has time to think.” Heather curved one hand over her lower belly. “I’m going to keep this baby regardless. Now can we get to lunch?”

Ashley ignored the plea to ask the question she maybe should have asked earlier. “Does the baby’s father know?”

“Are you kidding? He might want to see his kid, and then the whole world would find out what a horrible person I am.”

The drawback of a small town—everyone’s business was too easily public.

“Still.” Ashley turned off the heater and car and grabbed her handbag from behind her seat. “He kind of has a right to know, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think, so drop it.” Heather’s tone was sharp, defensive.

Ashley decided to drop it. Heather had to make decisions on her own. The best Ashley could do was listen, give advice when asked, lend what spiritual guidance she felt qualified to give. Heather didn’t need to be on her own in this. Ashley was there for her friend, as she was there for her patients in crises. Time was the best cure. Time gave people a chance to absorb, think, plan.

Yet she couldn’t bear the idea of Heather and Ian splitting up. They always seemed too right for one another, so unified. When Ian traveled for his business, Heather simply took more shifts, subbing for other midwives wanting vacation time or just personal days. It seemed like a good arrangement.

Just proof that outward appearances told little of the truth beneath.

They exited the Tahoe. Ashley clicked the locks on, and they strolled into the mall side by side. Ashley didn’t feel like shopping. She didn’t feel much like eating either, but she should in the event an emergency occurred that would interrupt her next meal.

Heather needed maternity clothes, so after lunch they headed for the mother-to-be shop and picked out outfits for several occasions, from work, to casual, to one stunning dress. Heather tried to persuade Ashley to buy a dress they spotted in a store window, but Ashley simply laughed and shook her head.

“I haven’t worn the last dress you talked me into buying.”

“You might go on a date.”

“And the sun might rise in the west.” Ashley walked away from the deep-blue silk dress with only one glance back.

“See, I knew you wanted it.” Heather tried to nudge Ashley with her elbow but smacked her with her bags instead.

They laughed, paused to buy cold drinks before they hit the road, then loaded everything into the back of the Tahoe. They discussed Heather’s purchases, patients’ conditions—names carefully redacted—and reminisced a little about midwifery school, when life looked like one baby-catching after another and not all the minutiae in between, the problem patients who smoked, didn’t take their vitamins, worked too hard, exercised too little. Ashley didn’t mention how she had been assaulted in the middle of the
day by someone who had broken into her house. She didn’t want to worry Heather with her own troubles when her friend had more than enough of her own. They avoided talk of Heather’s pregnancy and marriage.

Heather, however, grew quieter with each mile closer to home. Finally, as Ashley exited the highway, Heather stopped talking altogether. She sat gripping the dashboard with both hands as though braced for a head-on collision. None were likely. The streets were empty in the late afternoon.

Heather’s driveway was half empty.

“He left.” Heather’s face was stony.

“Did he just go to work?” Ashley made the practical query, fearing the answer.

Heather shook her head. “Not today. He’s due to leave the country tomorrow.” She slid out of the Tahoe and rounded to the rear, where she waited for Ashley to join her and open the hatch.

Loaded with packages, they trudged up to the house. Heather unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Ian?”

A hollowness rang in the house despite soft leather sofas in the TV room on one side of the foyer and tapestry-covered chairs and heavy carpet in the living room on the other. Dropping her bags on the parquet floor, Heather ran up the steps. Ashley gathered up Heather’s bags and followed her. The house shouted its emptiness. She knew the feeling from all the days she returned to her home and found no one there. The difference was, she didn’t expect anyone to be there except for the cats.

She trailed down the hallway to the master bedroom, the bags crackling, her footfalls silent on the carpet. Heather stood in the center of the bedroom holding an envelope. She thrust it at Ashley. “You read it. I can’t.”

“It’s personal.” Ashley dumped the bags on the bed.

Heather shoved the envelope into Ashley’s hands. “I make it impersonal.”

“All right.” Sure she might be sick, Ashley lifted the unsealed flap and drew out a single sheet of paper, little more than a slip torn from a pocket-size notebook.

I got an earlier flight to Dubai. It will give me time to think these weeks I’ll be gone. Meanwhile, take care of yourself and the baby. I.

Relieved, though sad that Ian had chosen to run rather than stay and work on his marriage, Ashley tucked the note back into the envelope. “He’s all right. He just left for Dubai early.”

Heather heaved a sigh of relief.

“How long will he be gone?” Ashley asked.

“I think a month.”

“Are you—will you be all right staying here alone, or do you want to come home with me? I’d welcome the company.”

“I need to be here.” Heather clasped her hands in front of her belly. “I can’t Skype with him on my laptop. It’s too small. I need the big monitor so I can see every detail. We always Skype at the end of the day wherever he is, as long as I’m not working. I know he’ll call in as soon as he gets to his hotel. He always does.”

And if he didn’t?

“Do you want me to stay here? I have clinic in the morning, but I can drive out early.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I’m on call tonight and need to sleep now.” Heather wrapped her arms around Ashley. “Thanks for being here, for shopping with me, for not calling me a slut. I’m so awful.”

“Calling you names won’t change anything. What’s done
is done. You know it was wrong and you have to face the consequences. I’m here to listen and give you advice if you ask for it, and make sure you and your baby are healthy.”

“You’re such a good friend. Please don’t abandon me even if I’m so awful.”

“I won’t.” Ashley hugged her friend. “I should go home and feed the cats. Please call me if you want me to come back or you want to come out. I wish you would. I don’t like you being alone.”

“I’ll call. Right now . . . right now I need to think.”

“Call me if you want me to come back.” Slowly, Ashley backed away from Heather. She didn’t want to leave, despite having to clean the house, grocery shop, and review patient files.

She descended the steps and left the house for her Tahoe. The empty space in the driveway shouted to her about how Ian had departed, must have driven himself to the airport either in Roanoke or perhaps down to Johnson City, Tennessee. However he departed, he had gone, run. Because he didn’t care enough to stay and fight, or because he cared too much and feared the direction the fighting might take? Ashley understood his need for time to think apart, and yet expected something different. She would have told him to stay and get counseling.