Saving Katie Baker Read Free

walked back inside and went to return the box to its hiding spot, but paused. There, next to its home, was a photo of her and her husband on their honeymoon. She remembered that day: it had been full of dancing and playing under the waterfalls at the tropical beach resort. Best honeymoon ever, and you couldn’t tell in any of the photos that a life had begun to grow inside of her. She hid it really well. Katie traced her husband’s face in the photo and lingered.
    “Oh, how I miss you,” she said before stepping off the chair and grounding herself again.
    The energy wasn’t in her to walk up the flight of stairs that led to what used to be their bedroom. Tonight, she didn’t want to sleep alone in the king size bed—the bed they shared before the accident. It still felt so lonely, after almost two years. Katie just couldn’t sleep there right now. She grabbed a quilt off of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders as she let herself sink into the cushions, something that had become more of a habit lately than Katie would like to admit.

CHAPTER
2
    S ounds of glass collapsing and the smell of burnt rubber. The tires screamed out as metal slammed against itself. This couldn’t be happening! Blood drizzled warm down the side of her face. She felt a pain in her chest, as she looked over at her husband once the car had finally come to a halt. He sat motionless.
    “Babe, babe? Oh my god! Babe, please. No. Wake up, babe. Say something. Oh god.” There was nothing. No response. It was then Katie felt the very first contraction. Everything else after that point grew dark.
    Katie woke to crying down the hall. Relieved to not relive the rest of her nightmare, she stretched her shoulders back, reached her arms up over her head towards the ceiling and as usual pondered joining a morning yoga class to help stretch out her always tight limbs. One of these days , she thought to herself as she went to gather her daughter.
    “Good morning, sweetie,” she said.
    The little girl reached up her chubby toddler arms to her mother and clung to Katie’s neck out of the crib. This made her mornings totally worth it, and she was not a morning person. Micah was always so ready for morning cuddles as she slowly began to take in the new day. Katie walked to her daughter’s closet and chose one of the many pink cotton knit dresses for her to wear today, along with a fresh new diaper. “It’s about time you start using the big girl potty,” she said as she placed the new diaper on her daughter.
    It was a brand new day, with no mistakes in it. Katie hoped this one would end better than the previous. It has to , she thought to herself. It just has to.
    Katie sat Micah down at the table and handed her a pink sippy cup full of milk while she began working on breakfast.
    “Oh Mea” said Micah as she pointed to the red and blue oatmeal box that sat next to the wine near the stove.
    Katie’s husband used to praise her homemade oatmeal. It became part of her and Micah’s daily routine ever since he had passed away. She would rise, push start on the coffee pot and boil water. All without having to think much about it. It was easy and repetitive, and was especially needed in that first year without him. Some days Katie felt a slave to the pattern but easy and quick mornings were worth it.
    Today, the coffee pot seemed to taunt her with each drip, coming much slower than usual. She begged it not to die since she didn’t want to shop for another one. Katie stood in front of it, waiting impatiently for a morning must-have.
    Katie picked up her cell phone, still attempting to control her frustration with the morning coffee, and rang her friend.
    “Jill, hey, it’s me.” This was also a part of her daily habit: she woke up, started breakfast, and called her one and only contact (besides her father) on the cell phone. She wasn’t sure why she even owned a cell phone, as she stood talking right in front of the vintage telephone that hung near