Chapter Eight
Despite their best efforts to the contrary, neither Ryan nor Gillian found a decent night's sleep on that tense September night. Strange, fearful dreams sprung from the depths of their subconscious minds, bringing to fruition the terrors that couldn't be vocalized.
Wrapped in the comfort of an old t-shirt of Ryan's, Gillian brushed her teeth and climbed into their bed. It seemed larger than she'd ever remembered it being, swallowing her up with the empty space.
Meanwhile, amongst the clickings and beepings of the hospital machinery, Ryan dozed off in a fold out chair at his brother's bedside. A sympathetic nurse, stepping in to check Braden's vital signs, took pity on the crumpled young man, and slipped a pillow behind his head.
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The baby's room was decorated beautifully, just the way he and Gillian had planned it. The bassinet was placed in the corner, next to a variety of stuffed animals. Ryan had been drawn here by the baby's piercing cries, they continued now, getting stronger and louder, as he searched the room in desperation. The child was gone.
"What are you looking for?"
Ryan's back was turned, but he recognized the voice immediately.
"Go away Dad, please. I can't talk to you now. I'm looking for a baby. My and Gillian's baby."
Patrick laughed heartily, a deep, rough sound from the back of his throat. "You lost a baby, your own child? I always knew you'd be a pathetic father, that is if you ever found a poor bitch stupid enough to let you knock her up."
Ryan whirls around, stung by his father's harsh words. "Go to hell."
He laughs again. "Too late, Ryan. I'm already there, and someday, you will be to."
Patrick gestures towards the rocking chair, where Gillian sits, rocking back and forth, her eyes glassy, staring straight ahead. Ryan rushes to her and grabs her shoulders, willing her to break from her catatonia.
"Gillian," he says, shaking her. "What did he do to you?"
Suddenly, she slumps forward. Ryan lifts her limp body up to see her face, and screams out in pain, as blood drips from her mouth. "No, Gillian, no…"
Ryan awakes, startled, and takes a moment to remember where he is. "I'm in Pine Valley, Mom and Dad are still dead, Gillian's at home, and she's still pregnant. Thank God." He breathes out in relief, running his hands through his hair. "And Braden's still in a coma."
He looks over at his brother, who hasn't moved a muscle since being placed in the I.C.U.
at 6 o'clock the previous evening. Ryan glances at his watch-- 4:32 a.m.
"I need to get out of here for awhile," he says as he stands, trying to massage the kinks from his neck, and walks out.
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Gillian pads softly down the stairs, her hair mottled from hours of tossing and turning, and her terry cloth robe tied loosely around her waist. Fumbling in the dark, she finally located the light switch on the kitchen wall, and flipped it on. She was almost positive that there was a half-finished carton of Rocky Road ice cream somewhere in the freezer, and she was going to find it.
Armed with the Rocky Road under one arm, and a bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup in the other, Gillian settled onto the sofa, and turned on the television via the remote control.
Finally settling on a Home Shopping Channel, Gillian watched in horror as young, semi-attractive women paraded in and out in all manner of gaudy jumpsuits, some even featured glitter and knick-knacks festooned across the bosom.
Wide eyed, she licks the remains of the ice cream off her spoon, and lays her head down on a sofa cushion. "I just need rest my eyes for a moment…just a little while." She sighs, pulling a blanket up over her legs, and fading from the blare of the tv set.
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Queen Gillian gazed down from her throne. Her loyal subjects feared her more than death, a thought which made her smile, satisfied. But something is not quite right, and she can't seem to put her finger on it.
Clapping her hands together, she shouts out brusquely to the servants gathered at her feet. "Bring me Grandmama, I must speak with her! It is of the utmost importance!" They scurry in different directions, crashing into each other. "Bumbling fools." Gillian mutters under her breath.
Within moments, Eugenia has been summoned, and she bows before Gillian, a weary expression on her face. "Yes, your majesty?"
"Grandmama, I cannot shake the feeling that I have misplaced something, perhaps while traveling, and I want you to tell me what it is, as I can't recall. My jewels are all in their proper places, as are my gowns, yet here I sit, on my throne, ruling over Pine Valley, knowing nothing but the emptiness in my heart. What is wrong with me?"
Tears form in Eugenia's eyes. She knew that one day this time would come, but she knew not what to say. "Gillian…excuse me…your majesty," she corrects herself as Gillian nods her head, "You are feeling the burdens of your conscience, for you forsook true love for wealth and power, and now you must pay the price."
"What is this thing you speak of, true love? I can send one of my subjects into the town, and he will purchase it for me." Gillian sits back, glowering smugly at her Grandmother.
"Oh, no, dear, you are mistaken. True love has no price. It comes from inside--in here," Eugenia puts her hand to her chest.
"Once upon a time, long ago, it was within your grasp, in the form of the handsome peasant boy, Ryan Lavery. He gave you love, but you threw it away for the throne, and that precious crown of yours. I warned you, but you chose to marry King Chandler, instead."
"King Chandler? Scott?"
Eugenia hangs her head, and bows quickly as the King enters.
"No--his Uncle."
Adam Chandler sneers devilishly at Gillian, who lets out a blood-curdling scream.
*****************
On the couch at Linden, Gillian awakes to find the sun shining in through the windows, and the TV still chattering away. The now empty container of ice cream sits nearby, along with the discarded spoon. She turns off the TV, and stands quickly, planning to dress and leave for the hospital as soon as humanly possible. A wave of morning sickness brings her to a halt, and she sits back down again.
"Ryan probably hasn't had a decent breakfast yet, maybe I could pick up some blueberry muffins on the way."
She rises, slower this time, but is distracted by a faint ringing. It occurs to Gillian that she hasn't seen the telephone since Ryan took out his frustrations on it yesterday afternoon.
"It's gotta be in here someplace." Retrieving it from a nook behind the sofa, Gillian finally answers on the sixth ring.
After conversing briefly, she says goodbye, slouching down onto the floor, and burying her face in her hands. Gillian wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. The only feeling she could recall was the dull ache inside her heart, as her world slowly faded to black.
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