Take Care, Sara

was that? One more time. Did you say—did you say you’re pregnant ?” His eyes met hers, brighter than normal and focused intently on her.
    Nodding, eyes stinging with happy tears, Sara smiled. “Yes. Tell me you’re okay with this.”
    Cole exhaled noisily, averting his face. His posture was stiff and he hadn’t moved his hands from his hips. He seemed to be struggling. Sara felt her joy dim. It was scary and new; they didn’t have a clue how to raise a baby, but they’d learn. No one was ever really ready to have one, mentally or financially. If Cole was completely against this, Sara didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t take that.
    “Cole? Are you not glad about this?” she whispered, dropping her purse to the floor. She rubbed her arms, cold in the stillness of his response. “I know it’s unexpected and business has been a little slow and…” Sara trailed off as he strode toward her, his eyes on fire and his jaw tight.
    “How can you ask such a thing?” he said harshly, stopping before her. Cole’s body heat radiated off him, warming her with his nearness.
    She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “You’re not saying anything. What am I supposed to think?”
    “I am so happy,” Cole said slowly, cupping her face in his rough palms. “So happy. You have no idea how happy I am.” He took a shuddering breath, pressing his cherry Carmex-scented lips to her forehead. “So happy,” he whispered.
    Sara cried, loving Cole more in the moment he knelt before her and pressed his cheek to her flat stomach than in any other moment she could remember. “Love you, baby.”
    “Love you too.” She brushed his soft hair back from his forehead, loving the texture of it, loving him.
    He looked up at her. “I was talking to the baby. You know, love you, baby .”
    With a snort, she pulled away. “Of course you were. What were you attempting to hang up when I walked through the door?”
    Cole stood, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing.” He looked guilty.
    Sara sighed, moving toward the living room. “What is it, Cole?”
    “I won it,” he announced, a slight scowl on his face.
    Eyebrows lifted, she looked at the 10 X 13 picture resting on the couch. “So everything you win must go up on the wall?”
    “No. Just the cool stuff.”
    The ‘cool stuff’ was a close-up photo of a vintage red Ford truck from the fifties or sixties. It sat in a field of grass, shining with the glint of sunlight on it and blue skies behind it. The body was rounded in a way the newer trucks had gotten away from.
    “I thought you were a Dodge boy?”
    “Well. Yeah. But look at it! And I won it.”
    Sara smiled at Cole. “I like it. Not above the couch, but I like it.”
    “So you’re saying I should put the wedding picture back up?” Cole laughed at the look on her face, grabbing her wrist and spinning her into his arms. He kissed her nose, saying, “We are going to be the coolest parents ever .”
    Sara blinked her eyes and the sink full of dishwater came into view; a sink full of water and dish soap for two plates, one cup, and a fork and a spoon. The soap smelled like apples and the bubbles make a fizzing sound. Some things were hard to adapt to, even the lack of dirty dishes. She would give anything to have a sink full of dirty dishes if it meant he was still in her life. With a sigh, Sara quickly washed them and set them in the strainer, wondering how such a small task could so completely wear her out. The effort it took to get through each day wore her out.
     
     
     

4
     
     
     
    It was Tuesday. Three weeks exactly from Tuesday the 29of November. That was the date she’d been told to be there, to talk to Dr. Henderson, to do what had been chosen for her to do. It was a countdown of dread for Sara. She would never be ready to talk about what he wanted to talk about. It was unequivocally impossible for her to do what had been designated as her duty long ago.
    Her feet unconsciously moved in the direction of the art room she hadn’t entered in months. Sara stopped by it, running a hand over the rough wood, closing her eyes at an onslaught of sorrow. She couldn’t bring herself to open the door. It reminded her of him. Everything in this house did. But she couldn’t forget. She didn’t want to forget. Maybe part of the reason she couldn’t let go, the reason Sara refused to let go, was because if she did, she feared she’d lose him as well. She couldn’t say goodbye to him.
    Sara