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.Then the doctor gave us new odds," Luke continued dully, closing the door left open by his departing son."There was a reasonable chance that the drugs might put Lindsay in remission.However, if she took them, then she could not—or should not—have the baby.Without the chemotherapy there was almost no chance that she would survive for long.With the drugs, the baby would die or be horribly deformed.""Oh, Luke…" Blythe said, tears clogging her voice, "I'm so sorry…""After I saw how the cancer started to take over, I begged her to have an abortion and seize the chance that she might get well with chemotherapy.I told her that perhaps by some miracle—we could have another child together," he said, meeting Blythe's stricken gaze, "or at least we could still hold out the hope for adoption of a second child after she went into remission.""Did Lindsay agree?" Blythe asked."Yes… but in the end we lost all the bets," Luke disclosed in a monotone."She had a five-month abortion, chemotherapy, and died anyway." He gazed at Blythe with a haunted expression."The baby was a girl," he said finally."For weeks after Lindsay's funeral I had a series of ghastly recurrent dreams in which a newborn infant was left abandoned in a desert… or dying alone in the woods… or falling off a cliff into the sea."Blythe's pulse quickened as she tried to suppress a sharp intake of breath.The baby floating in Valerie's crystal ball!She had thought after her last session in Valerie's office that perhaps the unborn child represented the mysterious William to whom the eighteenth-century Blythe had dedicated Ennis Trevelyan's lonely seascapes.Now she wondered if that baby, lost in space, was a glimpse of the doomed infant in Lindsay's womb."Each time the dream recurred," Luke continued, "I'd wake with a start.I'd sit bolt upright in bed with my heart pounding, trying to catch my breath in that bedroom across from Richard's.Then I'd start to blubber like a baby.After a few weeks of this I moved out of earshot of Richard's room, into the room with the Barton Bed.Even so, I was afraid I'd frighten Richard when those tides of sadness overwhelmed me." In Luke's glance she now saw undisguised despair."Every time I laid eyes on my son, I thought of his unborn sister, and the fact that we'd lost Lindsay in the bargain," he disclosed, his voice hoarse with emotion."After we buried her, I knew I was seriously beginning to fall apart, and if I were unstable as a single parent, that would hurt Richard even more.So despite everything my wife and I believed in, Blythe, I sent my barely eight-year-old son away to school.""Didn't you try to talk to someone about… the dreams? Your doctor? Even Valerie?" Blythe asked gently."Wouldn't they have understood the terrible grief you were going through?""I told no one about the dreams… or my reactions to them.I might well have, but I just kept lecturing myself, 'Get a grip, man!' After that I avoided all thoughts of babies and the sight of children—my child, to be specific.I suppose I thought it would keep my devils at bay if I kept clear of… reminders.And the plan worked.I haven't had the dream since."But I have, Blythe mused.Or some strange version of it."Oh, God, Luke," she sighed, sympathetic and exasperated in equal measure."The way you deal with some things is so… English!""Of course," he acknowledged with a bitter smile."One year became two, and I simply became accustomed to the relief that resulted by my remaining aloof from Dicken." He cast Blythe a beleaguered gaze."I asked Chloe to take care of everything regarding Shelby Hall.""Even when Dicken stuffed his roommates' underpants down the Johns in an obvious bid to get your attention?" Blythe asked evenly."He told you about that?" Luke asked, and then shook his head in self-disgust."Just the other day, in fact," she answered quietly."Well, bastard that I am," Luke continued, "I have told myself for two solid years that I was sending Richard away and keeping my distance from him for his own good… so he wouldn't see what a weak, pathetic man his father had become.""Grieving for the loss of your wife and baby was not pathetic!" Blythe insisted fiercely, thinking of the raw waves of anguish that overwhelmed her without warning in the months following Grandma Barton's death."You'd been dealt an unbearable double tragedy!""And then last May you walked into my life," Luke continued as if she hadn't spoken, "and for the first time since that nightmare began, life had possibilities…life felt good again.Then Dicken ran away… and I was forced to see that—" Luke pulled up short.In a voice laden with shame and regret, he added, "The appalling truth was, for the last two years I was simply making it easier on myself."This soul-searching admission once again rendered Luke unable to speak.He turned to gaze out the window for the second time.Meanwhile Blythe's thoughts were galloping ahead of any words she could form to comfort him.Her stomach was in increasing turmoil, and she was sorely tempted to blurt out her strong suspicion of her own pregnancy—if only to offer him something tangible in the way of solace.Just then, however, there was a knock on the door."Excuse me, sir," Luke's housekeeper announced, poking her head into the room [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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