Left Behind

The sun reflecting from the snow blinded Sam while driving through the farm country. Taylor stuck her head out the window and threw up. He couldn't afford another distraction on his way to the city clinic. He could hardly keep his eyes open enough without them watering. He didn't have to ask her if it was morning sickness when the scrambled eggs caught the side of his car. He pulled over where she opened the door and finished unloading breakfast.

Sam was relieved to make it down the winding hill and into the sooty city streets where his eyes could focus. His phone buzzed after pulling into the parking space at the clinic. A text from Doctor Reed spelled out for him to go to the front desk and let the receptionist know of the pair's arrival. The ten-story hospital loomed in the background where his wife was discharged. There was a stab to his heart that he should have been driving his wife home when he left the car. Instead, she was going to stay with her mother, indefinitely.

Taylor walked inside ahead of Sam, but she didn't look thrilled with the idea. She zipped her ratty coat up, as if she could hide her baby bump and the heroin marks on her arms. When Sam walked in, he looked over at Taylor but said nothing.

He limped over to the counter while she stood back, arms folded. A rainbow of people in all kinds of colored coats and skin tones sat in plastic chairs. Some looked like they were taking naps, others stared at the walls. They all looked like they'd been there since yesterday. There was one young brunette in jeans and a sweater in a corner with her child playing over some building blocks.

The receptionist with long nails, frizzy hair, smiled wide. "Hello. Are you Sam?"

"Yes," Sam responded. "And this is Taylor..." She walked forward. It was then he'd forgotten her last name and just left it out.

"Hi Taylor," The receptionist said. "Dr. Reed said to just knock on his door." She stood and pointed to a door on her right between the counter and all the tired folks in the waiting area.

Sam caught a glimpse of her name tag. "Thanks Abby."

Taylor followed Sam's lead until she bumped into him at the doctor's door. He looked over and detected scowls on faces who had been waiting patiently. Sam was about to knock on the door when Doctor Reed stuck his head out. He was black man in a white robe, early forties with close cropped hair and silver-grey beard.

"Sam. It's good to see you. And this is Taylor, I presume?" He ushered them into his office. "Sam has told me so much about you."

Taylor snorted a laugh, "Yea, I bet."

"You look tired, Sam." Dr. Reed studied Sam's bloodshot eyes. "How's Sarah and the baby?"

Sam looked away. "Another miscarriage. We thought..." Sam choked on his words. Tears stung his eyes. "We thought this one was going to make it. We had...had hope."

"I'm so sorry. She, I mean Sarah, is she okay?"

"She's leaving the hospital to spend time with her mother."

Sam glanced over at Taylor, folding her arms and pretending not to listen.

Dr. Reed hugged Sam. "Will you be in church tomorrow?"

"I don't want to be anywhere right now." Sam turned to leave. "Are you done with me for now. Taylor needs our help."

Dr. Reed nodded. "I will call you."

Sam turned back. "I'm sorry I snapped. I just need some rest. Do you think you can get her admitted to the hospital?"

"Yes, totally. I'm going to make some calls."

Taylor chimed. "Yea, I need a place to crash. But my boyfriend will get us a place when he gets back from New York city."

Dr. Reed seemed surprised. "Is he the father?"

"The one and only."

Sam shook his head and couldn't close the door fast enough. He held hope her boyfriend would stay clear of Taylor. As he limped toward the exit, he glanced over at the faces who looked at him as if he must have cheated the system to get Taylor in first.

He was just glad he could finally put some distance between him and the real world. He would have crawled out the door to get away. He knew the clinic would do everything they could to free her from her drug habit and get her under strict care for the baby. He also knew she had a penchant for disappearing.

Just as Sam fumbled for his key near the car, his phone buzzed. This time it was a call from his wife's cellphone. He sank into his car, closed the door, and answered.

"Hey Honey. You doing okay?"

"Well, I'm in kitchen cleaning up after a huge mess. That's not like you Sam."

"Wait, no. You shouldn't be doing anything like that. You just got out of the hospital."

"My mother's been helping me. And what's with my stretch pants?" My mother was upstairs and found them on the floor in the baby room of all places. She getting some clothes for me as well."

Sam's chest tightened. "Well, I don't know, I wanted to help find things for you to wear. I must have dropped them when I rushed you to the hospital."

"It's just weird Sam. Honestly, I never liked those. You would have had to dig deep for them."

"Okay, yes." His stomach churned. It caught him off guard. He wasn't so sure he ever lied to her before. He tried to fix it. "Actually, I was going to give it to someone who was at the shelter, along with other things you don't use."

"I guess, but you should have told me so."

"Sarah, you don't have to do this. You don't have to go to your mom's. I can take care of you."

"Don't. Don't do this to me or yourself. I need time. We need time."

She'd hung up before Sam could tell her, he loved her. At some point, he'd forgotten to breathe. He took a deep breath and exhaled, then started the engine.

One thing he knew for sure was how quickly things could spiral out of control, even with the best of intentions.
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