Bree was…pregnant? I dropped my cell phone on the ground and Reese strutted towards it and gave it a sniff. I have expected (and hoped) that Bree would put another quarter in the pay phone and explain things better to me.
Janel shuffled out of the bedroom at that time and asked, “Why was that on the phone?”
“I-I’m not sure,” I murmured, “Must have been a wrong number.”
Janel wrapped her arms around my waist from behind and whispered, “Can you disappear from your apartment tomorrow?”
I had planned from the moment I heard Bree was pregnant that I was going to leave. Yet I asked, “Why?”
“I’m having friends over to help me pick out my dress,” hearing something about the wedding made my eyes flit to the calendar. Today was May 6th. So that meant I had about a month to try and fix things. Janel must have noticed my distant eyes because she questioned how I was, “I’m fine. And yes, I can disappear for tomorrow.”
She pecked me on the cheek, “Wonderful.”
The next morning I left the house as soon as I could, yet making sure Creeves would be gone for work by the time I walked over.
The house seemed so dark when I arrived even though it was a cloudless warm day. I knocked on the door praying to the lord that Creeves wouldn’t answer.
I knocked again, thinking that if Bree was home, she’d sprint to the door to answer.
This time I turned the knob and the door opened effortlessly, “Bree? Hello?”
Then I heard her shaken voice, “Pat is that you?”
“Bree, where are you?” She sounded so far away.
I walked down the hallway, eying each possible way Creeves could catch me. It took me two tries before guessing the right door, and the scent of blood rushed along with the wind, “Jesus Christ Bree!”
I rushed to the bathroom’s closet and grabbed a towel, “Where’s the cut??” I lifted an arm and looked, but she ripped it out of my hand and curled away into a fetal position, “It’s not me,” she murmured before releasing another sob. I stared at the now red floor in confusion, “Then whose is it?”
Bree seemed to shudder from those words, but I asked again, “Whose is it?”
She flipped herself around, eyes full of anger and hurt, “It’s my baby’s. He killed my god damn baby,” this made her erupt into sobs. I couldn’t believe what Creeves had done this time. I quickly opened my arms and Bree accepted them, the blood on her now staining my white shirt; I didn’t care though, “What a sick, sick bastard,” I whispered, “killing an unborn child.”
“I don’t…even…care…that…I hurt,” She said between sobs.
It was at this time I shook my head, “This is it. C’mon we’re going to the doctors,” I began picking her up, but something stopped me, “Pat I can’t leave,” I ran my eyes along her as she spoke, soon noticing the chain attached to her ankle, “He didn’t want me to get help.”
“Oh my God,” I placed her back on the floor and stood up, “This is just god awful. How could a man do this?”
“He thought I would try to get help,” Bree carelessly shrugged and I snapped, “Bree you’re acting as if it’s alright for him to do this.”
She shrugged again, “I’ve been bad so I think it’s alright.”
“Bree,” I begged, “Be reasonable, please. No one should do this to another person,” I pulled out my cellphone, “I’m calling my doctor, okay? I’ll try to get him to make a house call.”
She managed a small nod before curling back into a ball.
“Hello, this is Dr. Anderson.”
“Hey, Dr. Anderson, this is Patrick LeBlanc. Would you be able to make a house call of some sort?”
“Hmm, whatever is wrong with you? You sound fine to me.”
“It’s not me but for a…er friend.”
“Ahh you mean that woman who gave you the note?”
“Yes, and she can’t leave her house.”
“Very well. Please give me her address.”
I asked Bree what her address was and repeated it to Dr. Anderson, “Okay Bree he’ll be over here as soon as possible.”
She remained in her curled position without any response, “Oh dear lord Bree,” I picked her up and placed her in my lap, her arms wrapping around me to help hold herself together. I leaned against the bathtub and Bree laid her head on my chest. It was silent for a moment before Bree asked, “Do you still love me?”
“Why would I not Bree? Of course I still love you,” I kissed the top of her forehead.
“Even though I’m crazy?” she mumbled.
“That’s what I love about you.”
After that Bree fell silent and I believed her to be asleep, only for her to cower, “Someone’s here.”
“Relax, it’s just the doctor. We’re in here!” I called out to Dr. Anderson, who soon appeared in the doorway, “My God, so much blood. What in the world has happened here?”
“Her husband beat her,” I blantantly stated, “He’s who broke her arm too.”
Dr. Anderson put his glasses on his face, “Now where did he primarily hit you?” He quietly and kindly asked Bree.
She removed her one arm from my waist and pointed to her stomach, immediately asking, “Do you think she’s dead?”
This question made the doctor’s eyebrow raise, “You were pregnant?”
Bree nodded and Dr. Anderson whistled, “Well that explains all the blood. And no, I don’t think the baby lived through the beating. Now breathe deeply for me.”
Dr. Anderson continued the evaluation, his expressions giving bad signs.
“So do you know what’s wrong with her?”
“Well she is suffering from internal bleeding. But…miraculously, the baby’s alive.”
“What??” Bree and I both asked in shock.
“She’s badly beaten, but alive.”
“Oh my God,” Bree murmured before crying tears of relief, “Oh yes. She really is?”
“Well I’ll have to deliver her now considering the injuries.”
“I…can’t,” Bree nodded sadly to the chain around her ankle, yet Dr. Anderson smiled, “Your friend here let me know in advance of your predicament.”
The doctor whipped out a saw and my eyes bulged. What if he cut a toe or her whole foot off? But I trusted Dr. Anderson and allowed the saw to get close to Bree.
The whirring began and I heard the grinding against the metal and I couldn’t help but turn my face away.
“Alright, I best take her to the hospital now as soon as possible,” Dr Anderson lifted her from the bloodied floor, “Wait,” Bree murmured to the doctor before turning her face to me, “Can you take care of the baby?”
I didn’t think about it for a second, “Of course.”
“Thank you so much,” and with that she passed out and Dr. Anderson was gone.
I wasn’t surprised at all when the doorbell rang one day and there was a baby carrier with a small baby inside, a letter laying in its lap.
I carried the carrier into the living room and opened the letter:
I’m proud to present to you Julianne. She was brought into the world at 6:47 pm on May 23, 2020. Please note that she is EXTREMELY fragile (notice the pink cast on her one arm). But I have faith that you will take very good care of her.
See you soon,
See me soon? When? I eyed the infant, with the wispy pieces of black hair on top of her head. The cast was monsterous on her tiny arm and she still had a few bruises from Creeves beating Bree and the unborn baby, “Jesus Christ,” I breathed, “How did you live?”
As if she was answering Julianne opened her eyes and I was greeted by the same exact blue I met thirteen years ago and my heart seemed to melt.
The moment was ruined by Janel, “Where’d the baby come from?”
“Oh she was just outside the door. Very random, no?” I quickly hid the letter from Bree.
Janel walked over and took a closer look at Julianne, “Huh, funny. She looks just like you.”