Here and Now

1

"This can't be happening," she whispered in numbed shock. Stuff like this just didn't happen in her life. This was like the craziness of tabloid television!

Breathing deeply of the late spring air, Suzanne McDermott looked out to the Rancocas Creek and then stared at the diamond-studded wedding band in the palm of her hand. Secretly, she'd always thought it was too heavy and gaudy for her taste. The sunlight glinted off the raised gold setting and she registered a moment of surprise that after six years of constant wear the ring still shined brightly--unlike the marriage.

A thick lump formed in her throat and her chest ached with an unbearable heaviness. She had stuck by the rules. She'd played fair her whole life, but she didn't get to live happily ever after.

An image of her husband and her dearest friend assaulted her mind, and she groaned with a bitter, heart-rending pain. Betrayal. She honestly didn't know which tore at her the deepest--the man with whom she had shared her life and planned for a future and a family, or the woman who had shared her intimate thoughts since she was a child in seventh grade. She had honestly thought they were each other's best cheerleaders in life. The two people in the world that she'd trusted most had just ripped apart the foundation of her belief system, and she had nothing to hold on to any longer. She felt as though everything was falling away and she was sinking. No matter how she tried, she couldn't seem to wipe away a mental picture of Ingrid and Kevin together. How could her brain make sense of it when her mind continued to haunt her with fantastic scenarios of them making love, while she... she...

Looking down at her extended stomach, she felt fresh tears begin to surge up within her. Eight and half months into a pregnancy was one hell of a time to have a husband walk out on her for her best friend.

Rules? There are no damn rules now!

She wanted to scream, pull her hair out, and pull out Kevin's hair and Ingrid's too! She wanted to fight, to make them hurt the way she was hurting. She wanted to shriek her denial that everything she had dreamed about was never going to happen--for in that one horrid conversation her world had tilted crazily and she couldn't seem to find her equilibrium. But she couldn't, wouldn't harm the baby. Somehow, by some miracle in the universe, she had to keep it together. She could not afford a nervous breakdown. Not with a baby soon to be born.

Taking a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm down, she tenderly ran her fingers over her belly and mentally whispered, We're going to be all right, you and I. I don't know how, but we'll get through this madness.

Immediately her mind snuck past her best intentions and once more began to torture her with outrage. How could they go behind her back and betray her at a time like this? Sniffing through more tears, she looked out to the river and heard Kevin's voice in her head. He was sorry, and the timing couldn't be worse, but he and Ingrid had been having an affair for over a year. He had to be honest and confess they were in love and now they wanted to be together. She'd listened carefully, yet at the time thought she was having an out-of-body experience as he went on and on about how sorry they both were. None of it felt real. It actually was like one of those tabloid shows! Her life had been so sane, so perfect... or so she'd thought. A great husband, a beautiful home, financial security, a baby on the way. What more could a woman want?

The truth, maybe?

She'd told him to get out, to leave the farmhouse, the only piece of land left after he'd sold over 150 acres to a land developer. And the kicker was that she'd been so damn liberated and so sure the marriage would last forever that she'd signed a prenup six years ago. What a fool she'd been. Why hadn't she seen even a hint of this coming? Had she been too self-absorbed with the pregnancy? What was wrong with her?

"Arrrgh!" The yell escaped her lips and she felt better for it. Why was she making excuses? Why was she blaming herself? Kevin was the one who was self-absorbed. He was the one who had broken the marriage vows, though he still claimed to care about their unborn child. And now here she was, standing at the edge of the Rancocas Creek, her favorite place since childhood, a place where she always came for peace of mind.

It wasn't working. Not this time.

This time there was no easy fix. Her brain spat out the facts: Her husband had made it clear he wanted out of the marriage. She was pregnant. He wanted to marry Ingrid. She had signed away her security. She was alone in the world.

As if in protest, she felt the baby move.

Okay, she wasn't alone.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at her swelled body, encased in a blue knit maternity dress that looked like a gigantic sweatshirt. She felt so ugly, so unwanted, so pathetic. "I'm so sorry," she sniffled, wishing with all her heart that she could provide this child with a stable environment. At thirty-four, she was without extended family now. Her parents had died within a year of each other. First her father was killed in a car accident almost five years ago and her grief-stricken mother just didn't wake up one morning. There was nowhere to turn.

Kevin's parents were retired in Florida and even though they would be shocked, they would support their precious, spoiled son, just as they always had--even when he'd sold the family's land two years ago. His grandfather was kept alive by machines in a nursing home and didn't even know of the sale. The old man still thought the family farm was intact. There was no one to help her now. Maybe the worst part was she couldn't even turn to her best friend for support. Somehow, she had to handle this hideously nauseating drama herself.

Everything was heavy upon her, as if she were carrying the weight of the world, and she felt the muscles in her abdomen tense with resistence. Unconsciously, her hand caressed the side of her belly in response.

What was she going to do?

She wanted to go entirely numb. And why not? She felt abandoned by everything. She didn't believe in marriage anymore. She didn't believe in God anymore. She didn't believe in friendship. All of it, everything she had been taught, had backfired on her and she was left with the ugly lies.

Rubbing the moisture away from her eyes, she stared at the water, watching as the sun reflected off it and felt suddenly mesmerized by the bright dancing lights that seemed to move closer to her with the ebb of the tide. For a moment, Suzanne was almost blinded by the phenomenon and blinked several times to clear her vision. She glanced down to her palm and picked up the wedding ring.

Clutching the heavy band between her fingers, she looked back out to the wide body of water where she'd made every major decision in her life. It was here that she had decided to marry Kevin, and now it was here she knew it had all ended.

When you've lost everything, what are you?

A tiny thought flickered across her brain, as though struggling to pierce through her sorrow.

Maybe you're free.

Freedom didn't feel so good. She still had too much hurt inside of her that was begging for release. It felt like a volcano of agony bubbling right below the surface, white, hot, and unbearably powerful. Somehow, she knew if she didn't find a way to get it out she would explode, have a stroke or something. What she needed was some help--from anywhere!

Gathering all her sorrow, she felt she had to do something, even if it were merely symbolic. With every ounce of strength and willpower she possessed, Suzanne McDermott threw that wedding band, that symbol of a lie, as far over the sparkling water as she could. Screw love. The only love she knew to be true was what she felt for the child she carried beneath her heart. As she tried to follow the path of the ring, again the sun almost blinded her as it reflected off the surface of the water and for just a moment she thought she saw something, a large fish or--

"What the hell is that?" she whispered in disbelief.

With no more time to wonder, she jumped with fright. Only a few yards from her, a creature suddenly lunged out of the water, gasped for breath and splashed back down. Instinctively, she retreated and almost tripped on an exposed root on the embankment. Regaining her balance, Suzanne caught her breath and squinted back out at the water. Shielding her eyes from the bright sun, she tried to find the place where she had just seen... whatever it was.

There! A dark lump was floating on the water and she craned her neck to see better. All thoughts of her own miserable situation fled as she began to make out the form.

It was a body!

"Hey," she yelled, trying to quell the panic escalating inside her. "Hey! Are you okay?"

Immediately she realized what a ridiculous question that was and slowly stepped to the water's edge. She could now see it was a man. He was floating closer to her with the tide and her heart started thudding harder against her rib cage. He was alive. She'd seen him gasp for breath. He'd probably been swimming by and her ring had struck him and--

Wait a minute. People don't go swimming fully clothed... Stop wondering and react! If she didn't pull him out of there, he might drown, and with the way her luck was running, the last thing she needed was a dead man! With no thought for herself, Suzanne clumsily waded into the cool, shallow water until she could grab his boot.

She felt her sandals sink into the silty bottom and coldwater lap around her exposed legs. Ignoring the sensations, she pulled with all her might on his pant leg and, as his body turned over, he choked for more breath. It was evident to her now that his time was running out, so she did the only thing she could and grabbed the front of his white shirt. Her brain barely registered that the man's complexion was pale gray and as soon as the water cleared from his face, a wound at his temple began to bleed.

"Shit!" She didn't mean to hit him with her ring! She hadn't seen him in the water; the sun had blinded her for a split second just as she threw the damn thing!

Grasping his collar, she dragged him toward the shore. She felt every muscle in her body straining with herculean effort. She barely noticed one of her sandals being suctioned off her foot in the muck as she struggled.

When she finally had his torso out of the water, she let him go and knelt next to him. Panting, Suzanne turned her head and tried to see if he was breathing. She couldn't tell. Immediately, she crawled closer to him and went into action as every TV emergency show she'd seen flashed through her brain. After wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she slid her hand behind his neck and tilted his head back. Pinching his nose with her other hand, she gasped in a deep breath and then blew into his mouth. Over and over she gulped air and blew into his passageway, watching his chest rise with each exchange. Okay, his airway was obviously clear. She didn't need to do CPR... or did she? Damn, she always meant to get it straight in her head.

With one more breath into his mouth, Suzanne felt his body spasm and she lifted her face just as the man gurgled water and started coughing. She pulled back and turned his face away to let him spit out the river water. Relief spread over her entire body and she gasped for air along with him.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. "You'll be all right now."

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at her, before turning on his shoulder and coughing some more.

"What happened? What the hell happened?" he rasped out after several moments. "I'm alive?"

"Yes, very much alive."

"What were you doing?" He hung his head as he coughed more water onto the ground.

"Doing? You mean CPR?"

He gasped for breath to fill his lungs. "Kissing me."

Feeling a bit shocked, she sputtered, "I wasn't kissing you! I was saving your life."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, as he again glanced up at her and after several moments added, "Thank you."

He coughed a few more times and she could see the color returning to his cheeks. In seconds her mind registered that he appeared to be in his mid-thirties, had a long, lean build, an attractive face, and the most startling green eyes she had ever seen. His wet hair had glints of auburn that were highlighted by the afternoon sun. His expression appeared sincere, even though blood was trickling down the side of his face. And if she wasn't mistaken, he also had a slight Irish accent.

"You're welcome," she answered, then added, "though maybe I should be apologizing to you." Suddenly, she was distracted by the sensation of something warm seeping down between her legs.

"Why would you need to--" He coughed.

Before he could finish, she interrupted, "I think I may have hit you with my ring."

"Your ring?" he gasped, still catching his breath.

She nodded, trying to ignore the tensing of her abdominal muscles. "My wedding ring. I... I threw it into the water when you were swimming. Listen, I've got to get out of this mud." Focusing on getting to drier land, she was vaguely aware of the man staring at her.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" He turned on his side and wiped his bloody temple on his shirtsleeve.

"I don't know," Suzanne sputtered, as she shuffled on all fours to the grass. A strange cramping began at the small of her back and was wrapping around her hanging belly. Turning her head to the man who was now crawling toward her, she muttered, "But you need to see a doctor."

"I think you may need one more than I do," he breathed back, collapsing on the lush green knoll. "You're bleeding too."

"I'm what?" Startled, Suzanne grabbed up the front of her dress and was shocked to see bloody water trickling down her legs. "Oh my God, this can't be happening now! It's... it's too early!"

"Early?"

She looked at him as though he were either blind or just stupid. "I'm pregnant! But my due date isn't until the twenty-ninth!"

Charles Garrity stared at the strange woman next to him who was kneeling on all fours, gasping for breath, and appearing as though she was about to become hysterical at any moment. He looked back out to the river and couldn't see the railroad bridge. Wondering how far he had floated before she'd found him, he glanced around at his surroundings and, as his gaze fell upon a piece of red machinery, he felt his jaw dropping in awe.

"What is that?" he whispered, lifting his hand and pointing to it.

The woman raised her head and looked in the direction of his hand. "It's my car, what do you think it is?" she demanded impatiently while glaring at him. "Look, I need some help here. You think you can make it to the car and get my purse? I have a cell phone. I need to call nine-one-one and get an ambulance here right away. I am not going to have my baby in the mud!"

He glanced back into her frightened blue eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about getting help! I'm in labor here!" She again pointed to the large red metal piece of machinery. "Get my purse!"

"Your purse?"

"In the car."

"The car? That's an automobile?"

Still kneeling on all fours, she appeared exasperated as she lifted one hand and pushed the short curly blond hair back from her face. She then spoke to him slowly and deliberately. "Just... go... in... the car... and get... my... purse." She took a deep breath before adding quickly, "or help me to stand and I'll damn well do it myself!"

"All right. I get it. I'm not lame," he muttered, pushing himself upright. Once on his feet, he couldn't seem to find his balance and nearly fell back down.

"Oh, geez... what a pair we are. You're worse off than I am!" the woman exclaimed. "Here, help me up."

He turned to her and grabbed her outstretched hand. Using all his strength, Charles managed to get her upright as they awkwardly balanced each other.

Grasping the front of his shirt, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "Who are you, anyway?"

"Charles Garrity, ma'am. And thank you again... for pulling me out of the river." He didn't know what else to say to this confusing female and he certainly had no idea what to do with a woman about to give birth.

She nodded, threading her arm through his and leaning against him as she used her other hand to cradle her extended belly. "I'm Suzanne. Suzanne McDermott. Now let's just make it to the car so both of us can get some help."

Charles kept looking at the odd automobile. He'd paid almost five hundred dollars for a Ford Model T, but this fantastic machine in front of him was like nothing he had ever seen or imagined. He couldn't contain his amazement any longer. "You drove this?"

"Of course I drove it," she shot back, suddenly stopping and bending forward again, obviously in a great deal of pain.

Instantly, Charles reached down behind her legs and, with a grunt, he swept her up into his arms.

"No! Wait! You'll drop me!" she yelped, clutching so tightly around his neck and shoulders that he nearly stumbled again. The two of them swayed back and forth, teetering on the edge of a fall, until he righted his shoulders.

"Just stay still, ease up, and we'll make it," he gritted out between clenched teeth as he lurched forward, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other.

As they approached the machine, Charles took one last step and set her down as gently as he could next to it. She leaned over the hood and breathed deeply, as though she too was exhausted by the effort.

"Thanks. Okay, could you grab my purse? The cell phone is in it."

"Cell-phone?"

"My portable telephone?" She glanced up at him and impatiently waved her hand to the interior. "Just open the door and give me my purse, please."

Portable telephone? What the hell was she talking about?

He pulled on the metal latch and stared in wonder as the door opened easily and exposed the luxurious interior. There were rich leather seats, a control panel that was absolutely fantastic, and large windows all around. A leather-encased lever between the--

"Look on the floor." She interrupted his survey.

He did as he was asked, running his hand over the thick pile carpeting. "I don't see it," he yelled back to her.

"Look in the back, behind the driver's seat."

Again, he did as asked, still marveling at the expansive room and comfort of this incredible vehicle. Where had this woman gotten such a thing? "There's nothing here," he said, coming back out to see her now leaning against the front fender, with arms cradling her belly, as though willing the baby to stay put.

"Shit, shit, shit! I ran out of the house without it," she gasped. "Now what am I going to do? How in the hell are we going to get help?"

Although startled by her language, he offered, "Ma'am, I'll help any way I can."

He watched as she stared at him.

"Okay," she quickly directed. "Get the keys and go into the trunk. There's a large, blue bag in there."

He simply stared right back at her. "The keys?"

"On the seat. I know I left them there."

He looked back into the car and saw a ring of keys on the driver's seat. Leaning in once again, he scooped them up and hurried to the rear of the vehicle. When he turned the key in the lock, the whole panel swung up and he quickly leaned back to avoid the metal lid. Still marveling at the construction of this exceptional machine, he spied the shiny fabric bag and grabbed the web straps. "Got it."

Bringing it around to the front of the vehicle, he placed it on the hood.

"Thank heavens I had enough sense to pack this thing last week," she muttered, opening the bag and rummaging through it. She took out something white and handed it to him. "Here, open this and use it on your head."

It was made out of a shiny white material he had never seen. Unfolding it, he touched something that had the softness of fabric, yet wasn't. "What is it?"

"What's it look like? A diaper."

"A diaper?"

"Why do you repeat everything I say? Yes, a disposable diaper. Just stick it on your head."

"My head? Stick a diaper on my head?"

"Ohh..." She waddled the three feet separating them and grabbed the thing out of his hands. Flipping it open, she pulled on some tabs and then wrapped the thing around his forehead, roughly patting the sticky tabs onto his wet hair. "There, that should hold for a while... at least to stop the bleeding. Now, you're going to have to drive us to the hospital."

"I am?" Pushing the damn diaper against his wound, he glanced away and hated to admit that he was intimidated by the sheer complexity of the machine.

In spite of everything, Suzanne couldn't hold back a giggle as she looked at the soaking wet man standing in front of her. He did look ridiculous. "Yes, you are. You have driven a car before, haven't you? Damn, that would just be my luck... dripping wet, filthy, in labor, with a wounded man who can't get me to a hospital!"

"I've driven an automobile," he insisted, straightening his backbone.

"Good," Suzanne answered, picking up the maternity bag and attempting to walk toward the back door of the SUV. She felt like her legs weren't working correctly and she had to waddle. Waddle! How much more bizarre and embarrassing could this get? "Let's get out of here. I want a doctor around when my baby arrives."

"Here, let me help you," he said, wrapping his arm around what was left of her waist and assisting her. When they managed to get her onto the backseat, he stood panting.

Suzanne looked up at the man with a glazed expression on his face and a baby's diaper wrapped around his head. The two of them must truly be a sight and she almost laughed out loud at the mental image. The poor guy seemed frozen and quite unsure of the entire situation. She felt like she was instructing a child as she patiently began rattling off instructions. "Close the trunk and then get in the driver's seat. C'mon, let's go!"

He nodded and closed the door. She watched through the windows as he slammed the trunk and hurried to the driver's side. He opened the door and stared at the seat.

"Get in," she commanded, as another contraction captured her in a vise of pain.

"You mean I don't have to--"

"Get in!"

He did as he was instructed and then didn't move.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Oh please, do not tell me you don't know what to do!" she gasped.

"Well, I've never driven an automobile like... well, like this before," he grumbled.

"Okay, what kind of car have you driven?" This was not possible! How could her luck be this bad?

"A Model T."

"What?"

"A Ford Model T."

"Oh, gimme a break here."

He swung around in the seat and glared at her. "Look, I'm trying to help. You could try too. Just tell me what to do!"

Suzanne held her lower abdomen with both hands and grunted through the next contraction. "Okay, just listen, we don't have much time. Put the key into the ignition and fire this thing up!"

"Where's the--"

"On the side of the steering column, there, on the right," she said, pointing as he fumbled for a moment then sat back once the key was inserted. "Okay, now turn it... toward the dashboard."

A wave of relief swept over her as the engine cranked and the motor began humming.

"This is astounding," he said with a breath of awe.

"Yeah, I'm astounded. I'm the textbook definition of backseat driver here," she muttered, hugging her belly.

"Huh?"

"Forget it. Just push down on the big pedal on the right." She watched as he did what he was told and the engine raced.

"Gently!" she shouted over the roar.

"Okay, okay. Now what?"

"I meant put your foot on the brake, shift it into reverse, and back outta here."

"Put what into reverse?"

Suzanne groaned with the realization that this man really didn't know how to drive a modern car. "That lever in the middle--right there at your side. Push the black button on top with your thumb and shift the stick back to where the red R is. That's reverse. Then use the gas pedal again to go." She grabbed a baby blanket from the bag and was stuffing it between her legs as the car was swiftly thrust backward.

"Stop! Hit the brakes, the brakes!" Suzanne yelped, pressing one hand against the back of the front seat.

The car immediately jerked to a halt, throwing her back against her seat.

"I'm sorry," he said, his face reddening as he adjusted the diaper at his temple. "Okay, how do I go forward now?"

Righting herself, she muttered, "Maybe I should drive. I don't need to be treated for whiplash too."

"No, really. I can do it," he insisted. "Just tell me."

The tone of his voice wasn't any real assurance, but what other choice did she have? Resigning herself to the situation, she sighed. "Fine. Just remember you have a very pregnant woman back here, so lighten up on the lead foot, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Now, put the gear shift into drive--the D."

"Okay. R is for reverse, D is for drive, you say? Okay. That makes sense."

He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, rather than her, of his driving skills.

"None of this makes sense, Charlie... none of it! How could you not know how to drive a car? Where have you been living? In a cave?"

"I told you I know how to drive, just not one like this where there's no clutch. Now, be quiet so I can concentrate."

Suzanne's mouth hung open at the statement. Now was not the time for an argument. Now she had to get to a hospital. The car moved forward in slow, broken lurches, at speeds of only ten miles an hour, and she found she just couldn't shut up.

"You know, you can go faster than this. You're going to have to go faster than this or I'll be having the baby on the backseat!"

He must have hit every single rut on the back country road. Suzanne grunted, gasped, grabbed his shoulder, and pleaded through it all. When they finally came to the main road, he stopped the car even though there were several times when he could have safely merged into traffic.

"What's wrong? Why aren't we going?" she demanded.

Charles Garrity stared at the unbelievable spectacle before him. Automobiles of every color and size whizzed past him with more speed than he'd ever imagined. White-knuckling the steering wheel, immense dread spread throughout his already tense body. Something was wrong. Very wrong, for this was no place he'd ever been before. Not in his day and age...

"Where the hell am I?" he demanded.