by Lori L. Otto
“We adopted her when she was four. Maybe when she was born, it was identified, but… we didn’t know,” Jack adds.
“And she could just go through life without anyone knowing?”
“Well, she did.”
I set down Luca’s bottle and hug him into my chest. “Don’t they test for these things when babies are born?”
“With as many tests as Luca’s been through, I bet you would know if he had any sort of defects. We can call the doctors.”
“And the girls?”
“We get them tested,” Jack says. “But we don’t panic. And we don’t do anything to scare them.”
“You think Isaiah’s results are in the studio?” Emi asks. I nod. “I’ll go.”
“I’ll help,” my father-in-law offers.
“If she has them, they’ll be in one of the file cabinet drawers on the north side of the building. Most likely the bottom drawer.”
While they’re upstairs, I hand off the baby to Will and call the NICU doctor who’d been in charge of Luca’s care while he was there. He’d given me his cell phone for emergencies, and while he may not consider this an emergency, I know I won’t sleep without knowing.
“Dr. Williams,” he answers.
“Good evening, Dr. Williams. This is Jon Scott, and I’m sorry for bothering you at this time of night, but we just got Livvy’s autopsy results, and… her heart problem was caused by a congenital heart defect. I just have to know if you tested Luca for this when he was born. If you saw anything strange…”
“Jon,” he says, sounding friendly and assuring. “Luca is… perfect. Yes, we ran the gamut of exams on him, and heart tests were a part of that. He has no arrhythmia, his heart is a good size, it’s working just like it’s supposed to. I’m very sorry to hear that about Livvy, but rest assured, Luca is fine.”
“You wouldn’t run any more tests… just to make sure?”
“There are no more tests to run. We did an EKG, an echocardiogram, a chest x-ray, pulse oximetry… nothing showed anything irregular.”
“But Livvy never showed signs of a defect, either… that we know of.”
“Listen, his pediatrician can run tests every year, if you’d like. Whatever will put your mind at ease.”
“That… would, yes.”
“Okay. But for now, please know that your little boy is doing very well… he was growing like he should and showing all signs of catching up to other babies his age.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Talk to the pediatrician at his next appointment.”
Will and Shea are both waiting for me to say something. “He’s okay?” Shea finally asks.
“So far, yeah.” She hugs me, relieved.
I consider calling the girls’ doctor, but I hear the internal elevator returning from the third floor. Jack and Emi step out, holding a file folder.
Jack shakes his head. “His was a heart attack. Not cardiac arrest.”
“But does that mean he didn’t have a defect?” I ask.
Emi looks at her husband. “I don’t think we have any way of knowing that from this. It’s not his cause of death, though, and that should bring you some peace.”
“No. It really doesn’t. Luca’s okay,” I tell them. “I need to call Dr. Avalon.”
“Jon,” she says, stepping toward me and taking the phone. “You would know if they had something wrong. She can’t tell you anything more tonight. We can set up appointments tomorrow… but the office is closed right now. Let’s try to have dinner, enjoy our time together and not worry the girls,” she stresses again.
“Okay.”
“Diaper,” Will interrupts, heading upstairs with my son.
“You’ve got it?”
“Hell, yeah, I’ve got it,” he says, slipping into baby talk. Shea and I look at each other and laugh.
“Get Joel and the girls on your way down!” I call out to him.
After dropping off Edie and Willow at school and before Emi and I start painting the following Tuesday, we swing by the girls’ pediatrician for an appointment we’d set up. Dr. Avalon is waiting in her office with two folders laid in front of her on the desk. We both take the seats across from her, and I fold my hands in my lap, not knowing what else to do with them. I’d been fidgeting all weekend, nervous about what we’d hear today, and couldn’t wait to know, one way or another.
Emi reaches over and takes my right hand, though, linking her fingers with mine. I meet her eyes and smile, appreciative of the support she’s always so quick to give when I know she needs it just as much as I do.
“You two look worried.”
I nod. Emi responds to her. “We want to be able to prepare and plan if the girls have any sort of genetic heart… things.” She shakes her head and covers her mouth as her eyes tear up. I can see the fear in them.
Dr. Avalon stands up and gives my mother-in-law two tissues that she’s pulled fresh from the box. “Let me put your minds at ease-both of you. Edie and Willow show no signs of a congenital heart defect of any kind. They were tested when they were born, and they’ve never exhibited any symptoms. I see no reason to make a special appointment for them now, Jon,” she says, looking at me, “but we can do some extra tests at their next yearly exams. Again, I don’t think they’re necessary, but I know you may want more than that right now after everything you’ve been through.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“I’m understanding about that,” she says, “but I don’t understand why I didn’t get to see the newest member of the family today. I thought I’d get a special bonus visit with him.”
“He was sound asleep with Granddaddy this morning, and we thought it was best to keep him on his routine,” I tell her. “Emi and I are in the middle of a painting project for my brother and sister-in-law.”
“Shea? Her baby’s due this week, right?”
“This week,” I confirm.
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“We can’t, either.”
“Well, I’ll make some notes in the girls’ files, so next summer, we’ll run extra tests. For now, don’t worry about anything. Let the girls be kids. And most of all, don’t let them know you’re worried about anything like this. Don’t scare them.”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Is there anything else?”
“That’s it for us. Thank you for your time.”
We both shake her hand and make our way out of her office and into the street where a car awaits us for what is hopefully our last day of painting.
Chapter 31
Will bursts out of the maternity room into the hallway where we’re waiting in the birthing unit of the hospital, his face red, his lashes matted with moisture and his hair a perfect mess. “It’s a boy!” We all laugh at his announcement, since we all knew that already. “Charlie Hadley. He’s perfect. Holy shit. He’s just perfect. Eight pounds, six ounces, 19 and a half inches. Holy shit. Did I say he’s perfect?”
“Three times now,” Max says. “You’ve also cursed twice, so two bucks to his swear jar.”
“He’s in the other fucking room,” Will argues, pointing behind him. “Shea did great. She was a rock star.”
“She do that to your hair?”
“Maybe, but I deserved it. That’s what she said, and I’m sure she’s right, after what she just went through.” He laughs, his smile full of wonder like I’ve never seen on him. It’s a beautiful sight. “I should probably go back in there.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But let us know as soon as we can see them. And tell Shea congratulations.” I give my brother a big hug, so proud of him.
After he returns to the room, we all sit back down in chairs that line the wall.
“The girls didn’t want to come?” Emi asks.
“They wouldn’t come to the hospital,” I tell her. “I couldn’t bribe either of them. I don’t know if they’re sick of it, or scared of what might happen, but… they were both adamant, and I didn’t want to
push them. Steven said he and Kaydra didn’t mind watching them for us. And Kayd couldn’t keep her hands off Luca.”
“I’m glad they could help out,” Jack says. “They’ve been traveling so much recently.”
“Yeah. Steven almost didn’t recognize me with this,” I say touching my beard.
“You ever going to get rid of that?” he asks.
“I don’t know. It’s not really… grizzly enough yet.” Jack cringes and I laugh. “Once Luca starts pulling on it, I promise you, it’ll come right off. It won’t take much of that to convince me.”
“I mean, if that’s all it takes,” he says, reaching over and tugging on the short hairs. I smack his hand away.
“You know, I don’t get noticed in the street as much… and I like that,” I admit. “If I put on my glasses, I may as well be someone else. No one bothers me at all. If you could go incognito sometimes, wouldn’t you?”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Emi says, stroking her own chin. I smile. “Do you think Will and Shea have everything they need at home?”
“We did a run-through yesterday.” I nod. “They need more diapers. They have plenty to get started, but they’ll need more in… what, two weeks’ time? They just have no idea yet.”
“Jacks and I will stop and get them some more on our way home today and take them over tomorrow. Their concierge will let us in, right?”
“Of course. I’ll let them know.”
“I may take a few extra things. Clothes. I can’t help myself.”
“I’m aware. I see the new things appearing in Luca’s closet all the time.”
“So… Charlie’s eight pounds six ounces.” Callen comments.
“That’s twice as much as Luca was. More than,” I recall.
“How much is Luca up to now?” Max asks.
I smile and sigh. “Six pounds 10 ounces. But, hey, he’s 18 and a half inches, so… that makes him sound like he’s almost as tall, right?”
“We shouldn’t compare them,” Emi says. “I did that when Trey was little, and it drove me nuts. And then he caught up, and then he outgrew both of these guys,” she explains, pointing to my youngest brother and his boyfriend. “So, don’t compare. You just can’t predict these things.”
“I know. And hey, now Will can give me Charlie’s hand-me-downs for Luca,” I say with a laugh. “I think he’ll love that, after having to wear my hand-me-downs all his life.”
“He is gonna love that,” Max agrees. “He hated you for that.”
“And, yet, it had nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah.” Max swallows. “He hated Mom for that. But you by proxy. It was a loving-hate.”
“Yep.”
After a couple hours of waiting, Shea is ready for us to meet her newborn son. When I enter the room, it’s such a stark difference from the experience Liv and I had just two months ago. In the birthing unit, labor, deliver and postpartum care all happen in one room, so all the comforts of home for Mom, Dad and Baby are available here. The room is warmly decorated with modern touches. It’s a comforting place to be. Anyone in a room like this would feel cared for and well attended to.
I can’t help but think of Livvy, her body on that cold, hard, metal operating table, where no attention was paid to her comfort in the final moments of her life. While everyone else surrounds Shea’s bed, I take a deep breath, look up at the ceiling and turn on my heels, making my way back into the hallway before the tears fall. I will them not to, but I have no power over them at this point.
Such a stark difference. Why couldn’t my beautiful Olivia have had this fate, too? Why couldn’t we have had the luxury of a cozy room and access to the gynecologist who had been with her throughout her pregnancy–the one who knew Livvy so well and may have been better equipped to recommend the right care for her that night? What would she have told us to do? Not get the shot? Don’t do the C-section? Was there another decision that we could have made? Why weren’t we offered that?
All I know is that we made the wrong choice. I believe that there was a way for both of them to live–that some option was there that would have allowed them both to live. I’ve thought about this thousands of times since she left me.
“Hey.”
I don’t want to look up at Will. I don’t want him to see me crying about Livvy on such a special day of his life. I keep my head in my hands, my hair threaded between my fingers.
“I know you’re happy for me.”
“I am,” I choke out, then gasp in air, unable to mask my crying.
He puts his hand on my knee. “I wish, more than anything, Jon, that it could have been this way for you and Liv. You know how much of an effort went into Liv and Shea planning their pregnancies,” he says with a laugh. “They practically planned the rest of our lives for us, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes, this is the best day of my life,” he starts, “but it still isn’t the way we envisioned this. It’s not what we planned–what Shea planned. She wanted to do all of this with Liv by her side. I don’t know if you had a chance to look at her, but the reason her eyes are puffy and her nose is red has nothing to do with giving birth a few hours ago. She’s been crying about her best friend for the last 45 minutes… and I’ve been trying to assure her that she will be a perfect mother. That she will have her own natural instincts. That she didn’t need to have her here to raise Charlie, but that she’d remember all the lessons Livvy taught her over the years–consciously or not. That you’re still here and you have so much wisdom to share with us. That Jack and Emi, the people who taught Livvy all she knew, are willing to step in as grandparents to our son. That your girls will forever remind all of us ‘that’s not how Mama did it’ as long as we’re all alive, you know?”
“I do know that,” I nod, finally lifting my head to look at him. I wipe my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “I’ve heard that more than I want to in a lifetime already.”
“I know this isn’t an easy day for you. I didn’t think it would be.”
“Thanks.”
“But if you don’t get your motherfucking ass in that room and meet your godson, I’m going to be so fucking offended that I might just give the honor to Callen. Poor kid is the only one who has no title now… I feel sorry for him.”
“You’re not giving him my title,” I say as I stand up, smiling weakly. “But you know what? I can give Luca a third godfather. He can never have too many people looking after him.”
“Sweet. That takes the burden off of me.”
“So, I guess… Coley’s his godmother?”
Will puts his arm around me and nods his head. “Yeah… if her sister lived in the States, it may have been her… but she couldn’t even get time off for the birth. Coley’s been there for her like a sister.”
“She’s a good choice,” I tell him. “He’ll get the straight and narrow from me and… a little bit of the wild side from her. Visual arts from me, literary arts from her. Man. You covered your bases, didn’t you?”
“That was the exact train of thought we went through,” he lies. “So, can we go see Charlie?”
“Let’s go see this little boy. Who does he look like?”
He stands behind me with both hands on my shoulders and pushes me through the door. A crowd is around Coley, who’s holding the baby. I go to Shea first, noticing the puffy eyes my brother mentioned, and give her a hug. She holds on for a long time, but neither of us says anything–nor do we need to.
I kiss her on the cheek as we break apart. “No more tears today, okay? Not from either of us. Let’s make a pact.”
She shakes her head. “My hormones are all over the place, Jon, so… no.” She laughs at me. “No deal.”
“Well, I’m going to try to hold up my end of the bargain then. I’m so happy for you guys.”
“Thank you.”
“Jon? Want to hold him?” Coley asks me as she walks to my side of the bed.
“Absolutely.”
Charlie’s wrap
ped tightly in a blanket and sleeping soundly when she hands him over to me. I know less than two pounds separates them, but it feels so different holding him than it does holding my son. His face is fuller than Luca’s. He has more hair–a crazy amount of hair, actually–straight and all over the place. Picking up one of his tiny hands with my finger, I realize how pudgy his little digits are.
He’s a beautiful baby boy and he looks like the picture of health.
“I thought babies were supposed to look like their fathers or something, Will. Where are you in this little guy?”
“You’re one to talk. Two out of three of yours looked nothing like you.”
“Hey!”
“The hair. Look at his hair…” my brother says.
“Oh, definitely that, poor thing… but… nothing else.”
“Just because he’s my color,” Shea scoffs. “But give it time. He’s just a few hours old. He just looks like a baby to me. Plus, I love Will’s hair.”
“Will’s got plenty of it. Gets that from his dad, I think,” I comment, because both of my brothers have incredibly thick, full hair. Max keeps his in control by keeping the sides cut short, but Will constantly misses hair appointments for weeks at a time. Shea has trimmed his hair at home more than once out of frustration with him. I think he just likes the extra attention from her.
Charlie will definitely have a unique look, with his mom’s mocha skin and his dad’s straight hair. As attractive as his parents are, I bet he’s going to be the center of attention when he grows up. Watching him sleep, I wonder how it will be for Luca, standing next to him. Will my boy catch up to him? Will he fill out? Grow taller? Will he always be in Charlie’s shadow? Will there be animosity between them?
Realizing I’m comparing them, I kill the thoughts immediately. They’re newborns. We’re going to be raising them together; they’ll be as close as brothers–like Trey and Max.
I can only hope our boys’ friendship can be as strong as theirs. I wonder if it’s something we can foster, or if it’s something that has to happen naturally. Trey and Max were never not friends. From the moment they met, they were the best of friends. I’m sure Trey had dozens of friends, but Max’s social circle was limited. He never went on playdates. Didn’t go to daycare when he was young, so when the two of them played catch with Jack for the first time, I remember that he didn’t stop laughing the entire time. He’d catch a ball and giggle. He’d throw a ball and burst into a fit of laughter. He’d drop the ball and chuckle as he ran to chase it. And it was contagious–Trey was entertained by him, and he laughed until his stomach hurt.