She studied his face tensely. "What did the lab results show? Why did something go wrong this first time?" She leaned forward in her chair, anxiously awaiting his reply.
Albin flipped opened the file before him and read from a report: "Genetic abnormality of fetus causing spontaneous abortion at approximately the tenth week of development."
"So the accident had nothing to do with it? Or being under too much stress? Or working too long hours? What should I have...?"
"Kacie," the doctor interrupted gently as he closed the folder. "There was nothing that you, or anyone, could have done to prevent your miscarriage. It was just one of those times when cell division doesn't go quite right. I'm very sorry for your loss."
Sudden tears shimmered in her eyes and her body posture slumped. "Do you have any idea of how meaningless those words are to me?"
He looked at her compassionately. "Yes, I do. I guess I say them because they help to make me feel better. I come away from situations like this feeling like I should have been able to do more. I have some other words I want to say to you, which may not mean anything right now, either." He paused a moment, and then continued, "When you're ready, Kacie, I'll be here to see you through your next pregnancy."
"I want this baby back. I ache for this baby." A single tear trailed from the corner of one eye.
"Kacie, depression is very common after a miscarriage. Have you and your husband allowed yourselves to grieve for your child yet?"
Her head dropped, and she said nothing, twisting the rings on her left hand in agitation.
"You haven't told him yet." Albin sighed and sank back in his chair.
She shook her head. "I can't. I can't find the words. I'm afraid he'll blame himself, and the accident, no matter what I say. Or worse, that he'll blame me for working too hard, or for not taking care of myself, or..."
"Kacie, bring him here with you, and the three of us can talk. I can explain things."
She got to her feet and brushed away tears that continued to spill. "Thank you, Doctor Albin. I'll-I'll think about what you've said."
She turned and left, closing the door quietly behind her. She leaned back against it, eyes closed, as tears continued to slide down her cheeks. {Oh, God, I have to talk to somebody. Maybe Dr. McClanahan is in his office now.}
In a few moments, she was outside the oaken office doors, rapping quietly.
"Enter at your own risk!" a voice boomed from within.
She walked in slowly, closing the door behind her, not noticing that it hadn't latched tightly and was now standing slightly ajar. "I'm sorry to bother you, Doctor," she said in a quivering voice. "I just needed to talk to somebody..." Her words trailed off and ended in a hiccoughing sob.
McClanahan stood up and walked around his desk. He hesitated a moment before holding out his arms. She walked into them and cried.
"Your check-up didn't go well?"
"He said I'm fine." Her voice was muffled against his chest.
"What is it, then?"
"I just feel so empty," she wept, and he patted her back consolingly, murmuring quietly into her ear.
Peter looked at the medical staff directory in the lobby and located Dr. McClanahan's name. He strode over to the elevators and stepped into the first one heading up. He smiled politely at the few occupants already inside, and took a place at the rear of the compartment, standing lost in his thoughts. {I know that Pop told me that I had to be patient, but maybe McClanahan knows something that will help me figure out what's wrong with Kacie. She's never kept things from me before.} The elevator 'dinged' at his floor, and he stepped out, scanning office doors for the name he was seeking.
He spotted a door labeled 'Chief of Staff', E. McClanahan. It was ajar, and he approached it to knock. He froze at the sound of Kacie's tearful voice.
"You don't understand. I can't tell him. I can't."
McClanahan's baritone argued with her. "You can't keep hiding this from him. He's bound to be suspicious already."
Peter moved closer to peer inside, and stood as if carved from stone, blood frozen in his veins, as he saw Kacie in McClanahan's arms. Her voice was full of anguish. "How can I hurt him by telling him something like this? I know that he loves me, but he'll never understand."
"If he really loves you, he'll understand that sometimes these things happen. It wasn't your fault. He can't blame you."
"I can't tell him. I don't know how."
"If you don't tell him, I will. You can't go on like this. You look like hell. This is eating you alive."
"Don't you dare talk to him. I'll-I'll do it. I don't know when and I don't know what I'll say, but I will." With this admission came a fresh burst of tears, and Kacie burrowed her face against the doctor's broad shoulder.
Peter reeled back from the doorway and nearly stumbled into a wall. {Kacie? And McClanahan? Together? God in heaven...all those nights she said she was working late?} His heart thundered in his chest, and for a moment he thought he was going to vomit.
He somehow made his way back to the elevator and down to the lobby. Once outside, he hailed a cab. Crawling into it, he sat stiffly, staring sightlessly out the window.
"Where to, Mac?" the cab driver tossed over his shoulder.
"Just drive."