Belle Pointe. Karen Young
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I wasn’t here with you, I wouldn’t have anything to do.”
Anne managed a weak smile. “Tell that to somebody who doesn’t know you have three kids under six.”
“And they’re with their nanny, so don’t go worrying about them. You just worry about getting yourself on your feet again. The sooner you’re up and healthy, the sooner you can try again.”
Anne didn’t have to reply to that. Marcie’s cell phone buzzed. “It’s Monk,” she said, looking at the caller ID. She stepped outside the room, but Anne could hear bits and pieces of the call, but she had little interest. She was again gazing out the window when Marcie came back into the room.
“Well, looks like the two of you are in the same boat,” Marcie said with a determinedly cheerful smile. “Buck’s basically okay, but his knee took a bad hit. Also, he’s got a nasty concussion, which is the reason he hasn’t been up here checking on you.”
“Frankly, I don’t want to see him, Marcie. It’s because of his recklessness that I’ve lost my baby.”
“You can’t be sure about that.” Marcie moved closer and took one of Anne’s cold hands in both of hers. “Didn’t you say you were spotting at the hotel before you even got into the car?”
“Yes. And I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t.”
“Oh, hon…” Marcie sighed and squeezed Anne’s hands. “Before I had my first child, I had a miscarriage, too. It happens. I was an emotional wreck, too. I cried for weeks. Even now, today, I think about that baby and wonder what he would look like, what personality he’d have. So I can understand your heart is breaking. But this is a time when you need Buck and he needs you. He’s suffered a loss, too. You know how these jocks are. Even when they’re dying inside they don’t whine, they don’t cry, they don’t get emotional. I understand you want to crawl in a hole and pull your grief in with you, but right now, you and Buck need each other.”
“Maybe that’s the way it is with you and Monk, Marcie, but Buck isn’t going to grieve over losing this baby,” she said sadly. “I actually think he’s going to be relieved.”
Marcie stared at her in amazement. “You can’t believe that.”
Anne tucked her hands beneath the blanket and wearily turned her face to the window again. “I’m not good company right now, Marcie. Please…just—” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Will you please go out to the nurses’ station and tell them I don’t want any calls and I don’t want to see anybody?”
Marcie studied her in silence for a long moment. “Yes, of course. If that’s what you want. Your doctor has been pretty effective in keeping quiet that you’re here, so if your stay is short, you’ll probably be gone before the media figures out a way to bug you with a visit.”
Out in the hall, the hospital intercom paged a doctor by some anonymous number. Anne looked wistfully out the window. “Don’t you wish they could figure out a way we could be anonymous in this business, Marcie?”
“Most of the time, we wives are anonymous. It’s the players who can’t even go to the bathroom without somebody rubbernecking.” She bent and picked up a jacket from the small settee. “Look, I’m not wishing Buck any grief, but maybe it’s not all bad that this accident forces him to hang around the house awhile. The two of you can use the time to work through your problems.”
“There’s only one thing wrong with that plan, Marcie,” Anne said quietly. “Since I’m no longer pregnant, Buck considers our problem solved. You’re a good friend and I’m grateful you’re here tonight. Thank you for that.”
“Well, what are friends for, darlin’?” Then, with a resigned sigh, Marcie crossed her arms. “Okay, I can tell the nurses that you don’t want any other visitors, but you have to see Buck.” She held up a hand when Anne opened her mouth to argue and repeated, “You have to see Buck…for this reason. If I go out there with your no visitors message, the whole hospital would soon be abuzz with the juicy news that the wife of the St. Louis Jacks star pitcher, who was in the accident with him and has just suffered a miscarriage, has barred him from her room. How long do you think it would take that to reach talk radio and the six-o’clock news? They’ll have a field day with it, Anne. And it won’t stop here in St. Louis. Doggone it, they’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. You know I’m right.”
“I hate living in a fishbowl, Marcie,” Anne cried. “I hate it!”
“It’s not for wimps,” Marcie agreed. As the wife of one of the team managers, she knew firsthand how hard it was to have a private life. For every move a player made, he had to keep in mind that there was someone watching.
Anne sighed deeply. “I guess I have to see him.”
“You do.” Marcie leaned over and kissed her cheek. “One look at that guy’s pretty face and, trust me, you’ll feel a lot better.”
On Sunday mornings, Franklin Marsh enjoyed making breakfast for his wife. He was frying bacon for breakfast when he heard the phone ring. They’d both been anxious since learning of Anne’s accident sometime after midnight. Thinking it was early for calls, he quickly removed the skillet from the hot burner, turned off the stove and by the time he reached the bedroom, Beatrice was already talking. He knew instantly by the look on her face that it was Anne.
“Yes, he’s just starting breakfast, Anne. Oh, it’s so good to hear your voice. We’ve been so worried. How are you?” With a hand on her heart, Beatrice sank down on the edge of the bed to listen. They’d both been holding their breaths waiting to hear from his daughter.
“It was such a close call, Anne, but thank God you’re okay.” She paused, nodding slowly. “Yes, he’s right here.” Reluctantly, she handed the phone to Franklin. “She wants to speak to you.”
Franklin took the phone and sat down on the side of the bed beside Beatrice. “Hey, Annie-girl. You gave us a good scare last night, love.”
“I know, Dad, but I’m all right. Is this too early? Did I wake anybody?”
“Oh, no, we’ve been up awhile, both of us. Are you sure you’re okay? Marcie told us about…everything.”
“Uh-huh. I’m just…” He heard a catch in her voice. “…just so sad.”
“Of course you are. We’re both as disappointed as we can be. I know how much you wanted a baby. Buck must be hurting, too. How’s he doing?”
“He’s okay. I don’t know if you’ve heard the details of the accident yet. It’s already all over the news here.”
“And by the time I get to work, it’ll be the talk of the town here,” he predicted. “Tallulah’s favorite son doesn’t do anything that’s not reported up one side and down the other.”
“I wanted you to know some details since the media will distort it somehow.” She drew a shaky breath. “Buck was speeding, which won’t be a surprise to anybody. He swerved to avoid a deer that just appeared out of nowhere. It’s kind of murky, but I remember the car went careening down a steep embankment. I had my seat belt buckled, but Buck didn’t. He has a concussion and his knee is injured. I haven’t seen him yet so I don’t know how bad it is.”
“Uh-oh, that could mean big trouble for the Jacks if he’s out any length of time.”
“I guess.” He heard her take another unsteady breath and after a moment, she added in a different tone, “He should have thought of that before being so reckless.”
Franklin met Beatrice’s concerned gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay, Anne?”
“I will be, Dad. Don’t worry. I…I just haven’t been able to…to…” Her voice caught on a sob. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if you would like some company.”
Surprised, Franklin again looked at Beatrice,