For What It's Worth, page 27
Becca put her pen down on the secretary table, wiping a tear from her eye as she watched snow start to fall through the gray sky just outside the big picture window. It looked calm, peaceful. She dropped her head and ran a hand along her large stomach.
Ten weeks. She had to keep him safe inside for 10 more weeks.
Groaning, she pushed herself up off her chair and gingerly made her way over to the kitchen, trying not to sway too much in the process.
"Becca," Liz said in a worried voice, hurrying from her bedroom to her friend in the kitchen. "What are you doing?"
Becca grasped the sink tightly with both hands and glanced back at Liz, the movement making her head spin just a little.
"I'm getting some water," she replied, with a hint of agitation. "It's really strenuous."
"Honey, you don't look so good," Liz said, dismissing her last statement and grabbing a glass from the open cabinet to fill up. "You need to lie down…"
"I'm sick of lying down," Becca mumbled miserably, and she was. She'd felt like she'd been on bed rest for months. The last four weeks had been almost unbearable but necessary. Earlier in the month, Liz had found her passed out in her bed and, in a panic, immediately called her father. He was stunned to find out the patient his daughter was so upset about was John and Wilma’s Rebecca.
Becca's blood pressure had skyrocketed, and Dr. Redd told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to stay in bed. If it didn't go down, he'd make her go to the hospital and deliver the baby, the only sure way to cure "preeclampsia." That thought absolutely terrified her. Thankfully, her blood pressure had fallen in the following 24 hours and remained steady. So, she was on bed rest.
It made her crazy, but she knew it was worth it when she felt the baby move.
Liz handed her the water.
"You can come with me," she suggested, tentatively. Becca narrowed her eyes at her.
"No, thank you," she said, taking a long drink.
"Becca, it's Thanksgiving," Liz said quietly. "Eli isn't here, and…and my Mom and Dad will be there. He'll make sure you're OK…and, and your parents…"
"Liz, I said 'no,'" Becca said, pulling out a kitchen chair and taking a seat. "I don't want to see them."
"Becca…"
"Listen, you don't want to upset me, right?" Becca challenged. Liz nodded, sitting beside her. "Then you understand I cannot take even one night with my mother."
"I'm sure she's worried about you…" Liz started.
"No, see, no," she said, starting to get animated. "That would mean she cared, and she doesn't care."
"Of course, she does."
"No, Liz," Becca said, tears in her eyes. "She made it very clear that I would get no support from them, and I won't. I'm never stepping in that house again."
Liz sighed and shook her head.
"Fine, then what do you want me to tell them?"
"Just tell them I'm working tonight," Becca said with a sad little smirk.
"But..."
"They won't know any different," she said, worry suddenly replacing the sadness in her eyes. "Your Dad didn't say anything…"
"No," Liz said, certain he hadn't. "Doctor, patient privilege."
Liz studied Becca as she acknowledged her with a weak nod. There were circles under her friend's eyes, and she was pale. Despite her pregnancy, she even looked thin in her features, but her eyes were still as determined as ever. Liz knew better than to fight with her.
"OK, then," she said in resignation, with a nod of her own. "I'll be home early, but I called Penny…"
"You didn't have to…"
"She's coming over after her shift," Liz continued, ignoring Becca's interruption. "You won't be alone for long."
"I'm never alone," Becca said, with a real smile this time, patting her stomach. She reached over and pulled Liz's hand, placing it just above her belly button, where Baby Wanger was blissfully kicking away.
Liz gave her a sad smile and let her hand linger there a moment, fighting the worried tears in her eyes as she felt the baby kick.
"OK, Momma," Liz said, standing, trying to make her voice sound as positive as she could muster. "Then let's get you back to bed before I leave."
35
IN DREAMS
December 1968
…I have no control. I don't like having no control. The only thing I can do is keep our baby safely growing inside me until it is time for him to be born. I'm doing all I can to give you that much. I refuse to let you down…
Jesse furrowed his brow again; just as he had the first half-dozen times, he'd read Becca's latest letter.
What in the hell was wrong? Something was, he could feel it. Her words were desperate. It looked as though she'd written them quickly like she'd wanted to get them on the paper before she lost her nerve to write them at all.
He ran one hand along the base of his skull and closed his eyes, straining his head back to loosen his stiff neck. What sleep he'd been able to grab lately came in the form of awkward positions -- against the side of a fox hole, on top of a crate while sitting on the ground, and sometimes lying directly on the uneven Earth itself. It felt like a million years since he'd been where he was now, in his tent on a cot in his temporary home.
The engineers were close, so close, to completing the necessary work to begin the construction of a makeshift airstrip that could land large, heavy freight planes loaded with supplies.
Securing enough land around the perimeter had been daunting for his comrades. The Army Corps had a small window to get the work done while the infantry held back the enemy.
It was almost a blessing that he'd had so much work and so much distraction recently. He hadn't heard from Becca in a month. It was really only a week or so longer than usual, but it was almost too long. He lived on her letters as his fuel to survive, and he was running on fumes.
He glanced down at her words again.
I refuse to let you down.
How could she possibly let him down? She'd done nothing but give him the world, promise him the moon, since they'd finally come clean with their feelings for one another. What could she possibly think could happen that he would be upset about?
He fumbled in his breast pocket and pulled out her picture again. A slow smile crept across his face, as it did every time he looked at her photograph. She looked so beautiful -- young, healthy, happy -- so full of life. He sighed. This was what he'd initially wanted to avoid -- causing her any worry or pain because of him. Instead, here she was, pregnant with his baby -- worried about him and worrying about the baby.
"Dammit," he whispered, slowly lying down on his back on the cot and holding her picture up in the dim light. He studied her face for a short while until his tired eyes turned blurry, and he fell into a restless sleep…
Jesse clutched her to him, as he had 100 times before, feeling her naked body against him as they lay together in his bed in his apartment. Slowly he ran his fingertips up her arm and over her shoulders, gently tugging on her, urging her to turn to him. She sighed, turned to face him, and smiled that brilliant smile of hers.
"Are you OK?" he whispered.
"Yes," she said, still smiling, her eyes searching his.
"Are you sure?" he asked again, not convinced, as his fingers lightly traced her jawline.
"Yes," she said softly, reaching up to bury her hand in his hair and pulling his mouth to hers. They kissed long, slow, and deep like they did ever so briefly the first time they'd kissed. Not with the fast, hard, unbridled passion when they'd been together before. This was languid, just soft enough, as though they had all the time in the world. And as it always was, it was as amazing as he dreamed it would be.
He smiled against her mouth as his left hand roamed lower, searching for the bump that housed their baby. He gently ran his hand over her round, smooth stomach.
She put her hand over his, and they smiled into each other's eyes for a moment. Then she scooted out of his embrace.
"I have to go," she whispered, still smiling, but her eyes were beginning to water. Suddenly she wasn't naked anymore. Rather she was standing by the bed in a simple, pale blue dress.
He jerked to a sitting position, covers over his naked waist, his heart suddenly thundering in his ears.
"Go? Where?" he asked, fear creeping into his voice. "Where are you going?"
"I have to go," she repeated, tears in her eyes. "The baby needs me."
"The baby? What?" he asked, wanting to move but somehow frozen in place. He watched her as she started to somehow…fade away. "But…the baby's not here yet. Where are you going?! Becca?!"
"I love you," she whispered, tears in her voice as her form faded further from his sight.
"Becca, no!" he said, reaching out to the empty room, feeling as though his heart was bleeding out around him. "Don't leave! Becca!"
Jesse tossed around on the cot, kicking to free himself from whatever imaginary force was trying to hold him in place. He was gasping for air, his eyes trying to force themselves open and free his mind from the nightmare he had fallen asleep into. He was kicking hard, and in his sleep, his hand found the metal side of the cot. Gripping it, he pulled hard and flipped his body right out of the tough green canvas and onto the dirt floor below with a hard thud.
"Becca!" he gasped as he scrambled to his elbows and knees in the dark, eyes now wide open.
His breathing was ragged, shaky as he frantically attempted to take in his familiar surroundings, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. His heart was pounding.
Jesse took a few more deep, ragged, audible breaths in an attempt to move past the hellish dream and reestablish an even heart rate. He closed his eyes. God, he could actually feel his arms around her, then just as clearly, he could see her walking, no…fading away.
His whole body shuddered as he shook his head, opening his eyes just enough to glance at her latest letter sitting on the crate next to his cot. He folded it and put it back in his nap sack, where he kept almost all of her letters. He patted his shirt pocket and frowned.
Where was her photo?
"Fuck! No, no, no…" he whispered fiercely, fumbling around in the dim light, still on his hands and knees on the ground. His heart was speeding up again. He ran his hands over the top of the cot, over the crate, almost knocking the barely lit oil lamp off the top of it. After a couple of panicked moments, his fingers felt the matte paper's familiar texture in the shadows far under his cot. He grabbed the picture, falling back on his knees as he pulled it out from the dirt under him. He quickly brushed it off and checked for tears or scratches. Thankfully, he found none.
Jesse slapped the photo against his chest and hung his head, feeling like he was losing his mind. Of course, it had just fallen off him in his sleep. He hadn't lost it. He hadn't lost it, and he hadn't lost her. He hadn't lost her. He wasn't going to lose her. She was fine. The baby was fine. Everything back home was fine.
"She's fine, man," he said quietly to himself, trying to convince himself. "Don't sweat it. Don't sweat it…"
After a moment or two, his breathing evened out, and he tucked the photo safely back in his pocket, right next to that first letter she wrote to him. Going back to sleep now, though, was a lost cause.
He heaved himself into a standing position and took a deep breath, straightening his arms, palms down, trying to pull himself together. He exited the tent, hoping to find some solitude and peace in the moonlight hanging over the endless cluster of trees surrounding their makeshift base.
Jesse looked to his left and saw a familiar figure standing alone, not 50 paces from him. A thin trail of smoke was dancing in the reflection of the lunar light next to Joe as he looked heavenward.
"No sleeping tonight?" Jesse said quietly as he came to stand by his friend.
"Hey," Joe said, glancing at him, then he nodded to the moon.
"Think they'll make it up there?"
Jesse's eyes followed his. The ongoing NASA Apollo missions that were attempting to orbit the moon were a good distraction on Armed Forces Radio for the soldiers every once in a while. There was another mission planned for the end of the month.
"Dunno," Jesse said, with a little shrug, not having given it a whole lot of thought.
"If they finally get their shit together, we'll never hear the end of it from the Air Force guys," Joe said with a small smile, putting his cigarette to his lips then quickly pulling it away again.
Jesse smirked then nodded as he raised his eyebrows at Joe, his eyes shifting from his friend's profile to the cigarette in his hands.
"When did you start smoking?" he said, with a nod toward the smoke rising next to him.
"Right now," he said, smirking, lifting his hand as he looked at Jesse. "This is my first. Want one? Looks like you need it…"
"Hell, yes," he said, as Joe offered the brand-new pack of cigs to him. Jesse dug one out, then dug out his lighter in his pants pocket, lighting up the cig and taking a deep drag. He let it out slowly.
"Why can't you sleep?" Joe asked, looking to the sky again. He was confident he knew the answer. What kept any of them up at night in the middle of a war?
Jesse took another drag before answering. He wasn't about to go into details about his dream, a wonderful dream he'd had countless times since he'd found out she was pregnant but had never once ended in the horrible way it just had. Yet, he thought he might just be able to talk to Joe about what he thought may have triggered it.
"I…I got a letter from Becca," he said pensively, making his friend worriedly whip his head around to face him. Then Joe grinned.
"Finally came to her senses and dumped you, did she?" he said, earning a shoulder shove from Jesse.
"No," he said, with a little grin, appreciating Joe's attempt at humor. "But something's…off. I mean, she's more…worried…she's usually pretty strong, but she just…something's bothering her."
Joe looked at him like he was crazy.
"Love of her life's In Country, and she's carrying his baby?" Joe said in a matter-of-fact voice. "You're wondering why she's stressed?"
Jesse sighed as he shuffled his feet.
"I know, but…"
"Jesse, she's pregnant," Joe said, taking a small, almost non-drag on his own cigarette. "I've got a ton of sisters, and they've all been pregnant. It ain't pretty. Look, I know she's your Wonder Woman, but she's probably a hormonal wreck right now."
Jesse looked at Joe, somewhat dumbfounded but very appreciative. The man had a point. That was probably all it was -- and he was overreacting.
"Yeah," he said with a nod, flicking the end of his cigarette to the ground, taking his frustration over not being with her right then out on the butt, grinding it under his boot. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"Believe me, I'm right," Joe nodded, then turned and offered Jesse the rest of his cig. "These are disgusting, by the way."
"Nah, you're just not doing it right," Jesse said, taking it from him. Joe grinned, then his face turned serious again.
"We've got a job to do," he said quietly, clapping Jesse on the shoulder. "Gotta focus on that. Day-by-day, remember?”
Jesse swallowed and nodded in understanding. He gave Joe a little grin as the smoke from his exhale drifted back across the moonlight in the sky.
36
LET IT BE
Liz stood up from the beaded chair and walked across the room, snapping off the TV. She glanced at Becca dozing on the couch, then walked over to the big picture window, looking up at the moon. They'd made it. Apollo 8 had orbited the moon, the first humans in history to accomplish that feat. It was a great day in the American space program.
The much-anticipated Christmas Eve broadcast from the spacecraft had just ended, leaving Penny and Liz with tears in their eyes. Becca had laid on her side, on the couch. She watched one of the biggest news events of the year unfold from the confines of her living room with half-closed eyes. She remembered what a buzz there had been in the newsroom when NASA had decided a few months back to orbit the satellite a few months earlier than expected.
She didn't think then that she would be anywhere other than the CBS studios, watching it all play out, being in the middle of history.
Instead, she was barely awake most days. Sluggish didn't begin to describe how she felt. The baby was moving around, taking in the nutrients from whatever food she could force herself to eat. She lived with a dull ache in her head all the time. Yet she kept willing her body to cooperate, and some days, she felt like it was listening to her. She'd have good days -- days when she could walk around the apartment a little and even fix herself some breakfast or lunch if Penny and Liz would let her.
She hadn't been out of the apartment in weeks, though. Even she knew she'd never make it back up the six flights of stairs again if she tried in her current condition.
Still, she wasn't about to give up. Their baby needed about six more weeks. He needed his Momma to hold her own for six more weeks, then he would be ready to make his debut. And she would be fine. She was young and, until now, healthy. She'd bounce back. She knew she would. Her body would have no choice. The baby would need her. Jesse. Jesse would need her. They'd need her as much as she needed them.
She'd push her body to do what it needed to do, come hell or high water, because the alternative just tore her heart apart. The thought of losing their little baby to preterm birth then possibly losing Jesse to the war was completely unbearable.
Becca knew she'd never survive that, so she controlled what she thought she could -- she could keep their baby safe, no matter how hard it was. She reasoned that it was nothing compared to what Jesse was facing every day. If he could be a warrior for them, she could be, too.
