One Final Breath

by LK Collins

  “What the fuck happened?” I immediately ask, knowing that if she’s calling me something’s wrong.

  “It’s Jack,” she says through a sob, and I shoot off the couch grabbing my car keys as I bolt out of my house.

  “What happened?” I yell at her again.

  “I don’t know…I don’t know how it happened.”

  Anger and fear consume me. My hands are shaking as I try and stick the key into my ignition. “Where are you?”

  “North Puget Hospital.” Hearing that’s where they are makes my head spin, and I peel out of the driveway, racing across town.

  “Is he okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” she sobs, “He’s…in…surgery.”

  “Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” My vision becomes blurry as I slam the gas pedal down, needing to get to my little boy.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she should be sorry. Hell, she should be more than sorry. This is her fault; this is on her.

  “Surgery!?” I question her, needing to know why and how.

  “Uh huh.”

  “How?” My voice is harsh—angry.

  “He cut his hand, making a sandwich.”

  “Jesus Christ, Charlene. What was he doing make himself food? He’s only six fucking years old.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, we were out all day. We’d just gotten home, and I was taking my bags to my room and trying things on when it happened.”

  “See, this is exactly why he belongs with me. You had him out shopping again, and you told me you wouldn’t be!” She doesn’t respond, and I know that’s why, even if she doesn’t admit to it. “Jesus Christ, he’s a little boy, how many times do I have to tell you he doesn’t deserve to spend all his time with his mom at the mall.”

  “I know, it won’t happen again.”

  “You’re damn straight it won’t, ‘cause I’m going to petition the court for full custody.”

  “No,” she wails.

  “Yes, I am. This is all on you. I don’t know what’s gonna have to happen to make it clear to you that you have to put him first and stop shopping. It takes over, and you neglect him. If you don’t see now that you have a problem and need help, I don’t know what it’s gonna take. Jack needs to be first in your mind.” Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I hang up on her. My blood is pumping as I grip my steering wheel and slam my SUV into park. I rush inside the ER and spot Char standing against one of the walls, chewing on her fingernail, and it takes every bit of restraint inside of me to not lay into her even more. Walking up to the desk where an older gentleman looks up at me through a pair of wire-rimmed glasses he asks me, “How can I help you?”

  “My son, Jack Stovich, was just brought in here.”

  “Do you have any identification, sir?”

  Pulling out my ID, I hand it to the man as Char comes and stands next to me. “Looks like he’s in surgery. If you want to have a seat, the doctor should be out shortly to speak with you.”

  “Is he okay?” I ask, still not even knowing what the fuck really happened.

  “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to speak with the doctor.”

  Glaring down at Char as I take a seat in the desolate waiting room, she sits in the chair next to me, tears streaming down her face, and I know she feels bad. But I can’t console her right now. She’s responsible for this.

  Sitting in silence for what feels like an eternity, we wait for an update, and finally a doctor comes out, “Stovich?” she calls out, and we both hop to our feet as the doctor approaches us.

  “How is he?” I ask.

  “He’s doing okay. He’s very, very lucky. The surgery went well, and I was able to repair the cut tendon in his right hand. Thankfully it was just nicked, so he shouldn’t have any issues with it after it heals.”

  “Shouldn’t?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir. These types of hand injuries can be touch and go. But I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. Jack is a brave boy, and as long as he keeps out of the kitchen, he should be just fine.”

  Char nods, and the doctor says, “He’s just waking up; do you guys want to see him?”

  “Please,” I practically beg the woman as we follow her back.

  Walking into the room, my heart breaks. Jack’s tiny body is so small lying in the large hospital bed. His eyes are closed, and I rush to his side, taking in the sight of his injured hand while gripping his other. Char stands opposite me and kisses his forehead, waking him up. His groggy eyes look up at her, and he gives her a smile.

  Seeing him awake and smiling makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.

  “How are you feeling, buddy?” I ask, and he turns his head focusing in on me.

  “Daddy. I’m tired.”

  “I’m sure you are, but you’re going to be okay.”

  “Am I still going to be able to be a fighter fire?”

  “Yeah, you’ll still be able to be a fighter fire.”

  He blinks heavily, and I pull the chair up, sitting down as I zone in on my little man. My pride and joy, my everything. Thank God he’s all right. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him…and I pray that I’ll never find out.

  Chapter 7

  Faye

  “Get your backpack on,” I tell Braxley as we get out of the car at his school. Glancing around, I find myself lately looking for Thane, and for the past few days, I haven’t seen him. But I guess that should come as a relief to me, not a bother.

  “Remember to ask Mrs. Leeper if you’ll have your spelling test this week.”

  “I will, Mommy.”

  As we begin to walk up to school, I hear someone call Braxley’s name from across the parking lot; it’s Jack and Thane. The boys run to each other as Thane, and I slowly make our way together. He’s got a tiny grin on his face as I study him and my thoughts are cut short when Braxley asks Jack, “Whoa, what happened to your arm?” I could say the same thing, glancing down at him. His hand is bandaged.

  “Oh my God, Thane, is he okay?”

  “Yeah, it really looks worse than it is.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He was with Char and apparently he was trying to make himself a sandwich for dinner with a paring knife and sliced right down to the tendon.” My hand flies over my mouth visualizing poor Jack hurt like that. He must’ve been so terrified. I can’t imagine what they’ve been through or how scared Jack and Thane must have been. It has to be the worst feeling in the entire world.

  Wanting to do something to help, I can’t stop myself from wrapping my arms around Thane’s neck and hugging him. “I’m so sorry; you should’ve called me.”

  He holds my body close to his and says into my ear, “I wanted to, but I feel like an ass for the other day.”

  The bell rings, and the boys both look at us in shock. “Oh no, we’re late.” They dart off as their class has already entered the building, and we both wave, saying, “Bye,” in sync, but they don’t hear us.

  “Please don’t feel bad, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  “No, you should’ve. I crossed a line, and I’m sorry.”

  “Remember what you told me?” He looks at me a tad confused. “You told me to not be sorry for anything. You should do the same.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “How about I get you that cup of coffee I owe you?” He agrees with a grin, and we head towards our cars. It feels really good to be around him again.

  “I’ll meet you there,” I holler and he winks. I pull out of the parking lot first, but Thane is close behind me, and what lately has been a huge battle in my mind, going back and forth about the feelings I’m having towards him, for some reason right now feels right.

  After I park my car at the Starbucks, I wait for Thane to park. Then he gets out and chuckles at me as I try and open the door to the cafe, stopping me, so I have to release the door and enter first. There is no one in line, and we both order our usual. But as I go to swipe my card, he hands the barista cash. “Are you serious?” I sc
old him.

  “What? You didn’t think I would really let you pay, did you?”

  He hands me my coffee, which I take out of his hand and very dryly respond, “Thank you,” with a smirk on my face.

  “You should do that more often.”

  “What?”

  “Smirk like that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Chai Tea Latte, for Thane,” the barista calls out.

  He takes his drink, and we find a table by the fireplace. His phone buzzes, and he pulls it from his pocket glaring at the screen. He ignores the call, but his face tells me that he’s bothered by whoever it is. “Everything okay?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, it was my lawyer. I want to petition the court for full custody, and he told me to think on it before I jump that far. I already have primary custody, and since she let Jack get hurt, the judge will likely rule in my favor. Regardless, I can’t trust her with him, Faye. My gut is telling me to do it.”

  “I’m not defending her, Thane. But she is his mom and the only mom he’ll ever have.”

  “I know, and she also has a really bad shopping addiction that rules her life. To me, it’s no different than if she was an alcoholic. It’s caused us a lot of problems, and pretty much ruined our marriage. She needs help for it.”

  “Does she not want help?”

  “Now she does. But up until he hurt himself, she’s fought me on it, acted like nothing was wrong with her. But when she has Jack, her mind is preoccupied, and she just carts him around from store to store and isn’t a good mom. They had been out all day when he got hurt. The poor kid was fucking starving and trying to make himself a sandwich for dinner when he cut his hand.”

  “I think you gotta put Jack first, Thane.”

  “I do…I always do.”

  “Then if she is agreeing to get help, start there and see it through. But don’t jump to conclusions and take away all of her rights. Look at Braxley, he’ll never see his dad again, and one day that’s gonna really affect him, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. You…you have a choice.”

  He looks at me and slowly nods, his eyes are as clear as day. His stare flips and turns my stomach, and I find us drawing closer and closer together. Then his phone buzzes again interrupting our moment and I back away. Frustrated, he rubs the back of his neck. “So, you really think I should give her a chance, even after he got hurt?”

  “If she will get the help she needs…then I’d say yes. Children are always a parent’s number one priority, but when someone like Char has a problem, their priorities can get clouded. Show her that so she can get the help she needs to fix it. I really think you’ll thank yourself down the line.”

  “Jesus, you make a lot of sense, Faye.”

  “I’ve been through a lot in life.”

  “Unfortunately, you have. How’s Braxley doing with things? I’ve never really asked.”

  “He’s okay. I think he’s at that age where he doesn’t really understand that Ben is really gone. You know?” Thane nods and places his hand over mine. I swallow, looking down at the gesture.

  “Do you and Jack want to come over and have dinner tonight?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  “Great.”

  He looks at me, his eyes are so consuming, and hidden deep within them is a resemblance of Ben, a resemblance I guess I’d overlooked until now. Maybe that’s why I feel so drawn to Thane in the first place because he does remind me so much of Ben. Staring back at him, I get lost, and as I close my eyes…I can feel Ben here with me.

  ***

  “I hope you’re not bailing on dinner, ‘cause I just left the store,” I tell Thane as I answer his incoming phone call.

  “No way. But I kinda need a favor.”

  “Who ‘kinda’ needs a favor?” I tease him. “You either do, or you don’t.”

  “Fine, I do. This might sound a little crazy, but I just got a call to take a client to LA today, and with things the way they are between Char and I, I don’t want to call her. So, do you think you could pick Jack up from school if I’m late getting back?”

  “Of course I can, I don’t mind at all.”

  “Thank you, I’ll probably be back before he’s out, but just in case.”

  “It’s not a big deal. We are already having dinner together, so the boys will love it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll email Mrs. Leeper and let her know. Also, I meant to ask you earlier, did you ever get your garage door fixed?”

  “No, I’ve just been parking in the driveway.”

  “Okay. I’ll look at it again today. Sorry I dropped the ball.”

  “Thane, would you stop apologizing? My garage door is not your responsibility. I shouldn’t have asked you in the first place.”

  “I’ll stop apologizing, but I’m gonna look at it tonight.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m gonna head to the airport. I’ll text you and let you know how things are going later on.”

  We hang up, and I love how easy it is to talk to him. We have our banter back and forth, and it’s all in good fun. He’s such a good guy, and I’m really looking forward to dinner. ‘Cause when I’m around him, the pain is less, which is a huge relief, and even though it’s only been a week, I’ve missed him.

  Chapter 8

  Thane

  “Daddy!” Jack exclaims as Faye calls me into her home after I knocked on the front door.

  “Hey, buddy, how was your day?” I ask him, giving him a hug.

  “It was so good. Mrs. Leeper let me be the line leader again ‘cause I can’t pass out papers with my hand.”

  “Ahh, that’s great, how’s it feeling?”

  “Good.”

  “Ready or not, here I come!” Braxley calls out from the other room, and Faye opens a lower cabinet in the kitchen gesturing Jack inside. He runs and climbs in. She closes the door, right as Braxley rounds the corner. “Where is he?” he asks us, and we both shake our heads like we have no idea.

  Braxley wanders off, and I can hear Jack giggling from the cabinet, so I know it won’t be long until he’s found. “Thanks for picking him up,” I tell Faye.

  “Are you kidding me? It made it easier than trying to break the two apart. They are practically joined at the hip.”

  “They really are.”

  “Found ya,” Braxley hollers, yanking open the cabinet, and Faye jumps out of the way, then they run out of the kitchen together.

  “How was your flight?” she asks me.

  “It was good, smooth—quick—the way I like to fly.”

  “I don’t know how you do it,” she tells me.

  “Do what?”

  “Fly for a living.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask her, confused.

  “I don’t know what it is about flying, but I’m not a fan, and it’s not because of 9/11 or anything, I’ve been that way my entire life.”

  “Well, you’ve never flown with a capable captain then, have you?” I raise my eyebrows to her and watch the tint in her cheeks rise a pitch.

  She shakes her head then opens the oven and says, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

  “Can you come outside real quick? I bought you something today.”

  “Thane, what did you buy me? You don’t need to buy me anything.”

  “This I had to. I can’t wait to show you; it’s totally romantic.”

  “Hey boys, we’re gonna run out front real quick.”

  “Okay,” they call out together.

  “No playing with knives or anything,” I warn them, still leery from what happened to Jack.

  Walking out front, it’s starting to get warm and feels nice to not need a coat. I unlock my car and open the back. As she peeks inside, both sides of her mouth turn up into a huge smile. “You bought this today?”

  “Yeah, I had a couple hours to burn in Cali and thought, ‘I need to get that woman a new garage door opener.’”

  “It’s so sweet of you, but you gotta
stop buying things for me.”

  “Would you stop it? I’ve bought you a few meals and some coffee. Plus, it’s the least I can do, you saved my ass today.” Her hair blows in the wind, as a breeze rolls through. “Just accept it, would ya?” I tell her, as I take out the opener and we head back in.

  “All right! Thank you, it’s very sweet of you, Thane.”

  I smirk at her as we step foot back inside. The boys are still playing hide and seek. Braxley flies in front of us and hides in the same cabinet Jack did earlier.

  “You want a beer?” she asks me, and I nod.

  “How can I help you?” I ask her cracking my beer open on the side of her counter top. She’s laughs a little with a bottle opener in her hand, and I hand her my cap.

  “Really? My countertop?”

  “What? I didn’t hurt it.”

  “You know I used to think you were a gentleman.”

  I sip my beer leaning back, watching her, thinking about what she’d look like with no clothes on. My stare makes her nervous as her cheeks get red again, and she says to me, “Why don’t you take the salad from the fridge and get the boys?”

  “Sure thing,” I tell her, taking out the huge bowl of salad, setting it down, and calling the boys. It’s not but a minute later, and they fly into the dining room like it’s a race to see who can get to the table first, moving a million miles a minute and flopping into their seats at the table.

  “How do you guys have so much energy?” I ask them sitting down too.

  They both bounce in their chairs ignoring me, laughing, and I ask Faye, “Did you give them candy or something?”

  But she doesn’t respond, and as I look at her she’s motionless, her shoulders are slumped forward, and her head is in her hand. Something’s not right. “You okay?” I ask, getting up, and when she looks at me, tears are in her eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, grateful that the boys haven’t noticed she’s upset. But she doesn’t answer, she turns away from me, shutting down, and I don’t like it. At this point, I want her to know she can open up to me. I touch her shoulder, and she shakes her head, brushing me off, “It’s nothing.”

  “Faye, you can talk to me.”