A Perfect Storm on Thanksgiving

Postpartum. That's what Doctor Reed warned Sam about with his wife. Although the last miscarriage was a stillborn birth, she was exhibiting classic signs. What to do about Sarah? Sam should be the one keeping an eye on her, meeting her needs. He wanted to bring her home from her mother's house. Guilt churned inside him until it burned. He should have been focused on her, instead of the pregnant girl Taylor he befriended from the shelter.

Sam pulled into his mother-in-law's driveway, wondering if it would be the perfect storm. He knew it meant low pressure systems coming together to create mass chaos. His mother-in law's guilting of him for endangering his wife-meant he might go down with the ship. After pulling into the driveway, he breathed a sigh, knowing his sister-in-law Kate would be there with her husband Jack and their two children, Miya and Mark. Just maybe they would be all buffer he needed.

Rita's house was in a cul-de-sac, a large two-story house with plenty of empty rooms. The lawyer father passed away with a heart attack at a work desk full of pending litigation for clients. One could say he worked himself to death and left his wife plenty. As Sam stumbled from his car and found the door, he imagined her coiled behind the door ready to strike.

When Sam rang the doorbell, it reverberated through the house. Rita answered the door wearing bloody red lipstick contrasted with her pasty appearance. Her sharp tongue seemed ready to strike like an adder.

"Hello, Sam. Come in. You're late. We're on dessert."

"Great. I love dessert first."

Rita rolled her eyes.

Kate and Jack's kids came running to the rescue. "Uncle Sam!" They cried in unison. They latched to him and led him to his seat at the table in the spacious dinning room with a chandelier for lighting above the gathering where a large turkey was the centerpiece.

Sam felt his mother-in-law's eyes drilling the back of his brain. He sat next to his wife until she stood. "I'm going to heat your plate in the microwave."

Sam reached for her hand as he sat down, as she pulled away. It was the first time he had felt her skin on his since the night she miscarried. It was a static charge. Electric.

"Dr. Reed stopped by the house for a visit day before," Rita said, as she sat down and nibbled on a wing.

Sam nodded, as Kate spoke up from the other side next to her husband Jack. "Sarah said you were at the Rescue Mission help to serve dinners." Sam always loved her perky and glowing look when talking.

Jack chimed in. "I think what you're doing is important. I wouldn't have minded helping. I'd like to see your operation some time."

Jack wouldn't mind tasting the food your serve," Kate offered.

Jack rubbed his son's waxy brown hair. "Your mother told me she has more of me to love, and besides someone has to make sure the food won't spoil."

Sam was in a cloud over his wife. All he could think about was how Sarah went into the kitchen. He excused himself from the table.

Everyone smiled, but his mother-in-law looked like she was sitting on nails.

As Sam entered the kitchen, the microwave dinged. Sarah was loading dishes in the dishwasher.

Sam brushed up next to her. He breathed in her floral fragrance, reminding him of how the scent of her still lingered in their bedroom. With his stomach in knots, he put a hand over her shoulder and squeezed. "I missed you, honey. I can't live in an empty house without you. I'm lost without you."

Sarah turned, and they embraced. The softness of her breast and her arms pressing his backside awakened a passion in him once dormant. Tears filled her eyes. "Your foods getting cold again."

The sight of her wet blue eyes caused his eyes to water. He fingered his eyes. "Please, Sarah. We will be a family. God has a plan. We just need to be together."

Sarah nodded and wiped her nose. "Okay."

"So, I can pack you up and take you home?"

She nodded, "Yes." She turned and pulled his plate from the microwave.

When Sam turned around, he watched her mother, who held a cup in her hand. "I need some coffee," she said with a scowl.

Sam took his plate with a deep breath and shuffled back into the dining room. Even though he walked with a handicap, in that moment he felt as if he could float, maybe sprout wings.

Then a voice in his head asked, "What harm would it do to tell his wife about the pregnant girl he met?" After all, Taylor might be willing to give her baby away. They'd be saving a baby. He would go down that road, even with the caution signs.