- Nerves of Steele,
Will of Iron and Dreams of Gold
- Part 4
- by SteeleChic
1999
Guilt flooded Laura momentarily but she pushed it aside. Turning
to face him she answered a question with a question, "What
are you doing home?"
"I left the work up of the Kenaway case on the desk,"
Remington responded, his voice a monotone of thinly veiled anger,
"You didn't answer my question. What do you think you're
doing?"
"I thought I'd read over some notes, maybe help with the
paper work, see if I can get any insights," she answered
defensively, "I'm bored - put me down!" she demanded
as he lifted her into his arms and carried her back towards the
bedroom.
"No," he told her, "So you thought you'd disobey
Doctor's orders, not once but twice, by getting out of bed and
doing some work?"
"No," she returned smartly, "I was going to do
the work back in bed."
"Laura, it's only been five days," he reminded her.
"The longest five days if my life," she argued, "There's
only so much daytime TV, old movies and reading I can handle."
"Laura, the point is that you relax and not get agitated
or excited over work," he tried to explain to her, "Your
blood pressure, remember?"
"Oh, and I'm sure fighting with you is doing wonders
for my blood pressure," she shot back sarcastically,
"Can't you see I get just as agitated not being able to
work as I do over a case?"
His voice softened dramatically. If she had meant to make him
feel guilty, she had succeeded, "I see that now," he
said, a little hurt by her comment.
"I'm sorry," Laura sighed, hugging him fiercely, "It's
just that I'm going stir crazy in here and my hormones..."
she trailed off.
"I know," he told her, "You never were very good
at doing what you're told but you have to do this one thing,
if not for yourself then for the baby."
"I know," Laura realized, the impact of what she'd
done finally hitting her, "I can't believe I put our baby's
life in danger." Tears welled in her eyes.
"Not to mention your own," Remington added, cupping
her cheek gently, "Sshh, just get some rest. I promise I'll
think of a way to make it better for you, OK?"
Laura nodded wearily. Her darn hormones were so out of kilter,
crabby one minute and en emotional wreck the next. She hated
fighting with Remington, but they never stayed mad for long.
Placing a loving kiss on her forehead he stood up, "I have
to go," he said, "But I'll be home soon, I promise."
"Yes, go," she understood, "See you later."
A few hours later, the telephone rang. Lifting the receiver absently,
Laura answered, "Reming-" she caught herself instinctively
about to say Remington Steele Investigations, "Um, I mean,
hello?"
"Laura? It's me," Remington greeted her, "I just
called to -"
"To what?" she interrupted, her annoyance piquing at
her perceived lack of his trust in her, "To check up on
me!?"
This time Remington didn't rise to the argument. He was determined
to try and be more understanding of her wayward hormones. He'd
had enough trouble himself, staying in bed for two days with
a broken leg, let alone ten weeks.
"No Laura," he said softly, "I just called to
say I love you."
Laura swallowed guiltily. Damn her hormones and her quick temper!
"What, you're switching on me?" she asked brightly.
"I beg your pardon?" he returned, confused.
"I thought you quoted movie titles," she explained,
"That was a song."
"Oh," he said with a smile, "No, I really did
just call to say I love you and I'm sorry about before."
"Oh, well, I love you too, and I'm sorry for jumping down
your throat just now," she told him sincerely.
"I'll be home in about an hour, OK?" he said.
"Mmm-hm, see you soon."
Over the next week or so, Laura was entertained at least once
a day by a steady stream of guests. Mildred dropped by every
couple of days to eat lunch with her, her mother had visited,
Frances had come by, once alone, ostensibly to talk pregnancy,
and then several days later she brought her children, Mindy,
Danny and Laurie Beth, to visit their aunt, even Donald, her
brother in law, had stopped in with flowers on his way home from
work one afternoon.
When she wasn't being visited by one of her family members, she
was on the phone to Daniel, Murphy or Bernice, all busy asking
after her.
It was two weeks since she'd been in hospital when, all of a
sudden, something intrigued Laura that had thus far not crossed
her mind. She mentally berated herself for not thinking of it
sooner.
"Some detective you are Laura," she muttered to herself
as her mother called out a greeting.
"Mother," Laura forced through gritted teeth, "This
is the third visit this week. How are you?"
"Oh, I'm fine, Laura dear," Abigail said, "Look,
I've brought you some flowers from my bridge club."
"How nice!" Laura gushed with false brightness.
"And how are you and my grandchild doing?" Abigail
asked.
"Fine Mother," Laura answered.
"Are you sure?" her mother wanted to know, "Because
you look a little pale. Do you want me to open the curtains more?
You know you really should see this day we're having, beautiful
weather for this time of year..."
And so it went on. The incessant chatter about meaningless things
that didn't really interest Laura at all and, no matter who the
guest was, it was always the same.
"Laura?" her mother's voice broke her reverie, "Laura,
are you listening to me?"
"Actually Mother," Laura lied, "Now that you mention
it, I am kind of worn out today."
"Of course, dear," Abigail said, "I'll leave you
to rest then."
"Can I just ask one question?" Laura began, "How
is everyone getting into the apartment?"
"Oh, simple darling, Remington's been leaving a spare key
under the mat," her mother told her.
"Oh," was the only reply. Just as she thought. "Well
could you leave it on the table on your way out? I don't want
any more disturbances today," she finished innocently.
"Of course, darling," Abigail agreed, "See you
soon."
"Goodbye Mother," Laura put her head back and closed
her eyes for a minute, sighing softly. It was time for another
chat with her husband. This was getting way out of control.
At first the visitors were a welcome distraction, something to
break the monotony of being home alone, but now it was driving
Laura absolutely mental. Everyone was tiptoeing around her like
they were walking on eggshells, false brightness, incessant small
talk, continuous fussing.
They were treating her like an invalid, with the best of intentions,
but in a way that, to Laura, felt nothing short of condescending
and she couldn't stand it. Even Remington was guilty of this.
In the past week or so they'd had none of their usual sparring
and dynamics, he never spoke to her about work, and it had left
their relationship strained. She felt shut out of her normal
life, like she wasn't really there any more, and it was driving
her crazy. It had to stop.
Early that evening, Remington arrived home. If he noticed the
front door key on the table, he didn't say a word, coming immediately
to greet Laura and spend some time talking as they usually did.
He sat down beside her on the bed and kissed her warmly, "How
was your day, darling?" he asked.
"Fine," she answered, "How was yours?"
"Oh, fine, fine, the usual stuff," he responded, "Did
you have any visitors?"
"Just Mother," Laura told him guardedly, noticing his
lack of elaboration.
"Oh? And how is Abigail?" Remington inquired.
"The same as she was three days ago," came Laura's
tart response.
"Is something the matter Laura?" he asked.
"I'm getting a headache," Laura answered truthfully,
"But it's nothing major. We need to talk."
"Oh," he said absently.
Her headache was making her irritable and her question came out
snappier than she'd intended, "Have you been sending a stream
of people by to make sure I'm doing what I'm told?" she
demanded, "I know you've been leaving the key under the
mat, so all these visitors can hardly be accidental," she
accused.
"No, Laura, it isn't like that at all," he defended.
"No?" she all but shrieked, finally at breaking point,
"Then what is it like?"
It sounded as if she was angling for an argument so Remington
made an effort to keep his voice soft, he knew how important
it was to keep her calm.
"I've been trying to keep you entertained," he explained,
"You were bored by yourself so I organized our friends and
family to keep you occupied."
"Well it isn't working," she snapped. Dammit, why wasn't
he gearing up to argue with her? Why did he have to be so sweet?
Of all the times for him to be icy calm, she didn't need it to
be now. She needed to fight with him so that she felt human again.
She kept at him.
"All anyone does is ramble on with small talk, trying to
keep me cheery and away from serious conversation, they don't
treat me like me anymore. And you," she paused, "You're
just as bad. You won't ever tell me about work or what's going
on with the agency. You don't know what it's like to be here,
day in, day out, it's not you who's prevented from doing everything
you love. Has everyone forgotten that I have a brain?" she
cried, her frustration getting the better of her, "It's
still me, Laura, and yet everyone treats me like I'm not really
there in life anymore, I feel so locked away from the real world,
it's driving me insane!" Hot, angry tears spilled over and
ran down her cheeks but she dashed them away fiercely.
Her passion touched him as he reached out to catch a tear with
his thumb, "I know. You're a beautiful, intelligent, strong,
active and independent woman," he said softly, "I'm
sorry. It must be so hard on you. I can't possibly know what
you're going through, but I have an idea. Want to hear it?"
She nodded, eyes glistening as she looked up at him.
"How about if I stay here with you for the next eight weeks?"
he suggested, "If you have to go through it, I'll go through
it too."
"You can't do that, the agency -" she began, but he
interrupted.
"The agency will be fine," he assured her, "We've
hit a quiet patch, Sarah can handle the phones and the research,
Mildred can handle any cases that come along and if she can't,
well, she can bring work home for me to help her with. What do
you think?"
"You'd do all that for me?" Laura asked.
"Laura," Remington sighed, "Don't you know by
now I'd do anything for you? I love you."
"Funny how for so long I couldn't get you to say those words,
now I can't seen to get you to stop," she joked, "Not
that I want you to." She leaned towards him, her face upturned
for his kiss.
"One could say the same about you too, you know," he
teased, drying her tears by dropping a kiss on each cheek before
meeting her lips with his own, "Now how about dinner?"
he asked.
"Mmm," she nodded, wincing at the movement.
"Laura?" he asked in concern.
"It's just a headache, it's nothing," she told him,
"I'm fine. I could use an aspirin, though."
*******************
Dinner, as always, was a delight but straight after, Laura decided
to turn in. The baby had been particularly active that day and
she wanted to try and sleep off the headache. After she had dispensed
with his concern, Remington decided to sit up at the dinner table
and finish off some paper work.
A couple of hours later, Laura woke up with a start. Her head
was pounding and she felt violently ill, sharp pain stabbed low
in the left side of her stomach, too low to be the baby. Rubbing
at her eyes with one hand, she reached for the lamp with the
other and switched it on. Her vision swam, darkened, lightened
and faded to almost nothing as the startling realization hit
her - she couldn't see!
A wave of nausea hit her as she tried to get up, "Oh, God!"
she choked out. Head for the bathroom or head for Remington?
"Remington!" she cried weakly. Something was wrong,
something was very wrong!
"Remington!" she tried again as she staggered down
the hallway, "Help me."
As she rounded the corner, his shadow floated into her minimal
vision, "Oh, God, Remington," she sobbed, clutching
the door jamb with one hand and her stomach with the other.
"Laura, what - !?" he stood abruptly with a clatter
as she collapsed to her knees in the doorway, her eyes wide with
terror.
"Something's wrong," she screamed in panic as he lunged
to catch her, "I can't see! Something's wrong!"
To Be Continued...
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