Kelly Jamieson - Lost and Found

“There must be a mistake.” Krissa’s husband’s voice broke the ponderous silence in the doctor’s office. “You’ve made a mistake.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Edgar repeated. Did he really think saying that would make them feel any better? “The tests were repeated and the results were the same.”

“Bullshit,” Derek said. “You…”

“Derek.” Krissa murmured his name and he stopped.

Krissa reached for Derek’s hand and his fingers tightened around hers. She drew in a long, quivery breath. She glanced at him, his face hard, lips pressed together, eyes staring across the doctor’s office, apparently at the framed certificates on the bland beige wall. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back.

“So what do we do now?” Derek’s voice was thick, unfamiliar.

“Well, at this point there are a few options,” Dr. Edgar said.

Krissa’s throat tightened. They’d talked about the “options” already. Over the last two years, they’d talked about every conceivable option.

Now they knew for sure where their problem lay, their options were reduced. But they still had options.

She squeezed Derek’s hand reassuringly.

“Yeah, we know the options.” Derek gave a jerky nod, rose from his chair and walked abruptly out of the office

“Thank you, Dr. Edgar.” Krissa stood too, and followed Derek with an apologetic glance over her shoulder at the doctor.

Derek strode down the hall, and she focused on his broad back as she tried to keep up with him, followed him out of the clinic and into the parking lot.

The sun burned her already-stinging eyes as she stepped outside. She swallowed past the obstruction in her throat and dug for her sunglasses in her purse.

Derek’s long legs and obvious agitation carried him faster than Krissa could walk in her narrow skirt and heels, and she scurried across the parking lot toward him.

“Derek, wait.”

They’d come in two cars, Derek from his office and her from home, so she could go to her client meeting after their appointment with Dr. Edgar. She panted, paused with her hand on his arm while he unlocked the vehicle.

“What?” He yanked open his door and slid his long body into the driver’s seat.

Krissa’s chest squeezed painfully and she tried to take a deep breath. She hurt everywhere…hurt for Derek. And for herself, too.

She stood there beside the open door of the car. Derek looked straight ahead, held the keys in his hand. The summer sun had heated the interior of the car to sauna temperature, and sweat glistened on his forehead. He ran a finger inside his collar, his tie snug against his throat.

“Wait,” she said again, softly, putting her hand on his shoulder. The fabric of his suit was warm, soft, lightly padded over the muscle and bone of his broad shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He stared straight ahead. “Of course I’m okay. I’m fine.”

Her throat ached. He must be feeling so crappy, now that he knew what was wrong.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” She tightened her fingers on his shoulder.

She watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“It’s not okay,” he growled. His head dipped. “It’ll never be okay. Don’t even say it’s okay.”

Breath seeped out of her, leaving her hollow and aching. What could she say? What could she possibly say to make him feel better?

“I love you, Derek.”

He nodded, still didn’t look at her. “Love you too, baby.”

“We’ll talk later. At home.”

“Yeah.” He started the car, turned up the air. She felt the hot gust even outside the car.

“Okay.” She stepped back and let him close the door. He reversed out of the parking spot and sped away.

Krissa pressed her hand to her mouth and watched his car pull out of the parking lot onto Ocean Drive. Should he be driving right now?

A mother carried a baby in a car seat past Krissa and into the clinic. Did that mother even know how lucky she was?

A man walked out of the building, studying a prescription. Probably something that would make him better, whatever his problem was.

Nothing would fix this problem.

And now she was supposed to go meet with a client? My God. Her world had just been shaken as if a six-point-O tremor had rocked the San Andreas Fault just behind those mountains over there, and she had to go talk about employee rewards and incentives.

She turned, searching for her car, momentarily unable to remember where she’d parked it. She pushed her hair back off her face, her silk blouse sticking to her back beneath her suit jacket. She started walking, blindly, heels clicking on the pavement.

She paused, blinked, looked around her. Lord, she’d walked right past her car.

She sat in the car for long moments, her head feeling like a bubble.

It was good to have an answer. To finally know. They’d talk. They’d figure out what they were going to do next.

She blew out a breath, pointed the air conditioning vent directly at her hot face, and drove to her meeting at Phoenix Insurance to discuss her plan to help improve their staff morale.

He wasn’t answering his cell phone.

Krissa clicked off the phone and dropped it onto the counter.

After her meeting at Phoenix, she’d gone home, changed into shorts and a tank top, then made dinner. She had no interest in eating, but still she’d prepared one of Derek’s favorites—beef bourguignon, with little potatoes and a salad. The beef slow cooking in the oven filled the house with the rich aroma of herbs and red wine…but he still wasn’t home to eat it.

Where the hell was he? He hadn’t mentioned any client meetings tonight. She glanced at her watch again and sighed.

She wandered across the kitchen, terra cotta tiles cool beneath her bare feet, and stood at the sliding glass doors onto the deck. She stared at the Pacific Ocean. Evening sun glinted off the waves, whitecaps dotting the intense stretch of azure from foamy shore to hazy horizon.

The time when she needed him, when they should be together, bolstering each other, reassuring each other, Derek had done another vanishing act. Poof. Krissa swallowed painfully and leaned her forehead against cool, smooth glass. She needed him. Needed to know he was okay. Needed to know they were okay.

The phone rang.

She turned and ran for it, almost tripping over the table. “Derek?”

“Uh…no. It’s Nate.”

Krissa blinked. “Nate.”

“Yeah. I gather Derek’s not there?”

“Um, no.” Her mind was spinning. Nate…omigod. She’d completely forgotten Nate was arriving tonight.

“He was supposed to pick me up at the airport,” Nate continued, amusement coloring his voice. “Where the hell is he?”

“I wish I knew.” Her heart thudded slowly in her chest. “I’m sorry, Nate. I was expecting him home for dinner and he hasn’t shown up yet. I completely forgot about you.”

“Well. Thanks so much.”

“No…I’m sorry. I just…” What to tell him? Her mind was a big empty space, full of nothing but pain, longing and fear, with no room for remembering details of daily life like Derek’s old friend arriving to stay with them.

“I’ve been calling his cell phone and he’s not answering,” she told Nate. “He must have forgotten, too.”

“Nice.” Now a touch of annoyance edged his voice.

“I’m really sorry. Look, I’ll come get you. It’ll take me twenty minutes to get there.”