A Moment for Us

by Corinne Michaels

  I walk over to the crib, touching the soft cotton bumper.

  I don’t know how long I stand here, but it’s long enough that eventually I notice the sunlight starting to filter through the blinds.

  It’s there that Josh finds me.

  His hand starts at the small of my back and then moves up to my shoulder. “How long have you been awake?”

  I close my eyes, the orange light the only thing I see. My heart is pounding, and everything in me feels as though it’s about to explode. But this is the first time since we got home that I’ve felt like he’s here with me, even though he hasn’t left my side.

  “A while.”

  “I was going to take this all down.” Josh’s voice sounds strained. “I kept planning to do it, but I couldn’t.”

  “We weren’t ready to face it,” I say, still not looking at him or anything really. “I don’t know I am now either.”

  He lets out a long breath, and then I feel his lips on the back of my head. “We have to leave soon. I’ll make sure this gets done.”

  The explosion I felt building slowly detonates. I whirl around, anger flowing through my veins. “Don’t touch this!”

  “What?”

  “She was someone to me! This is where she should be, and she’s not. Don’t take her away!”

  Josh blinks a few times and steps back. “I don’t know what to do here.”

  “You can’t just erase her. I still have her with me, and I can’t . . . I can’t fucking pretend anymore. I have to carry her around, knowing that she’s not a baby anymore.”

  “I know, and I hate it.”

  “I do too. Now she’s just a demise. How can I love something I never met? How do I feel the loss of her when I’ve never seen her, touched her, felt her in my arms? I don’t understand why this hurts so damn much. We won’t get to hold her, Josh. We won’t get to see her and say goodbye to her. Instead, I have to carry her until the end and then she’ll just disappear. Taking all her stuff away will do the same!”

  The words come out of me as the tears do. Days of pretending haven’t lessened the pain. It’s all here inside me, and I can’t hold it in anymore. No one can understand how this feels. To know that inside me is a child that isn’t alive. They said she won’t resemble a baby when she’s born. I will never get to say goodbye to her, not really.

  “That’s not what I’m doing. I’m trying to make it easier for you. I don’t want you to come in here and have it hurt.”

  “Do you think removing her crib will make it hurt less? That I won’t remember that her crib was once here every time I walk into this room? I will. I’ll always look at this room that will be our son’s and remember he should have a sister.”

  “And do you think I don’t feel that way? That this is easy for me?”

  “You make it look easy!”

  I’m not being fair. I’m not, but I’m so far past the point of reason that I can’t stop. He hasn’t mentioned her. He hasn’t talked about anything other than asking me a million times if I’m okay.

  “How do I make this look easy? I’m fucking broken, Delia. I’m trying to hold my shit together and be strong for you.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t want you to be strong. Maybe I need you to break down so I know that I’m not the only one hurting. You haven’t cried. You haven’t said anything about it other than to ask if I’ll lose our son.”

  He looks down at my belly and then to my eyes. “When did I say that?”

  I throw my hands up and start to pace. “All you do is ask me over and over if I feel him kick? Do I feel sick? Do I need to call the doctor?”

  “So, my being concerned for you is a bad thing?”

  “Yes! Yes, because I can’t stop it! I can’t stop it,” I say as I feel myself sink to the floor. Josh is there in an instant, pulling me into his arms, holding me as we both sit. I clutch him, needing his strength that I was so resentful of just a moment ago. “I can’t stop it because I don’t even know how it happened.”

  He and I stay like this, gripping one another as I cry in his arms, no longer able to keep my feelings inside. I repeat those words, over and over, until no more sounds come out.

  “How are you doing?” Dr. Locke asks.

  “We’re okay.”

  She looks to Josh and then to me. “I am here if you have questions, I know this is a very difficult thing to come to terms with.”

  I nod, still too raw from this morning to talk about it.

  Josh clears his throat. “How does everything look so far?”

  Dr. Locke looks down at the papers. “Bloodwork looks good. The antibiotics we gave you as a precaution did well. We’re going to have to keep a close watch on things, make sure that we don’t have any signs of that. I think you’re okay to return to work as long as you’re not on your feet too much.”

  “I already requested that, and my boss said it was fine.”

  “You what?” Josh asks quickly.

  “What?”

  “You should stay home, off your feet, where you can rest.”

  I clear my throat, doing my best not to snap at him again. He’s lost his damn mind if he thinks he’s going to dictate this to me. All I do is sit and think. I need some fucking normal again. I am falling apart and can’t lose my job and my house too. “No, I need to work and pay my bills, so . . . if the doctor says I’m okay, then I am going to work.”

  His back goes straight, and I can see the frustration in the lines of his mouth. This is so not going to be fun. However, Josh surprises me by not saying anything more.

  Dr. Locke, probably wishing she were in any room but ours, turns back to me. “I think you’re safe to do that, but if you have any concerns, you come in right away. You’re still considered high risk, but if you take it easy, it may be good for you to have some sense of normalcy.”

  “I agree.” I raise my brows, looking at Josh.

  “Sure,” he replies.

  “Okay, I’d like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby and listen to the heartbeat.”

  I lie back on the table, a sense of dread filling my chest. What if there’s something wrong again? What if she can’t find his heartbeat? What if, in the last seven minutes since I felt him move, something has gone wrong?

  My shirt lifts, and the warm gel hits my skin before the monitor presses against me. I don’t look. I don’t watch because, if this happens again, I won’t be able to handle it. Instead, I watch Josh’s eyes, which are studying the monitor.

  And then a thought that has no right to be here enters.

  What if they were wrong about her? What if she’s really okay?

  No. I know it’s not possible. I saw the ultrasound and know the truth. We lost her, and she’ll never come back.

  I fight back the tears because I’ve cried so damn much.

  Josh turns to me, his blue eyes find mine, and I reach for him, needing him to touch me, tell me I’m okay, and that we’re okay. It’s been a rough week, and I hate the distance that’s spreading between us.

  His fingers tangle with mine as the doctor speaks. “See this here?” She points to an area. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat, and everything looks great. He’s moving around in there like he should be.”

  The two of us exhale, and then Josh leans down and kisses my lips. “Thank God.”

  “You’re sure?” I ask Dr. Locke.

  “As far as I can see, you’re doing well and so is the baby.” She wipes my stomach. “I’ll have you come in each week so we can keep checking on him, but he looks healthy.”

  Josh’s hand tightens. “I’m glad Delia and the baby are okay.”

  She nods once. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Thank you.”

  He helps me up, and I brace myself for whatever fight is going to come from my wanting to go back to work. He may have let it drop in front of the doctor, but I know better.

  He doesn’t understand that I can’t afford not to have an income, and Josh forgets that he is living on h
is savings until the resort is up and running.

  Josh keeps quiet on the ride home. The tension in the car is palpable. When we get inside, he finally says something.

  “I don’t want you to go back to work.”

  At least I was prepared. “Why?”

  “Because there are too many variables.”

  “Do you like having a roof over our heads?”

  His head jerks back. “What?”

  “I have to work. I have to pay for this house, my bills, and all that. I know you’re helping, and it’s been great, but you’re not exactly in the financial position you were before. I’m working so that we don’t end up having to move in with my mother.”

  He runs his hands through his hair. “I have plenty of savings.”

  “That doesn’t change things. I want to make sure that I have vacation time once the babies—baby comes. I’d like to stay home with him for a bit. Not taking all my saved time now will allow for that.”

  “I just worry,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

  “I wouldn’t do anything to put us at risk.”

  Josh lets out a deep sigh. “I know. Can you at least take a few more days? Just let me feel a little more comfortable.”

  I catch my lower lip between my teeth and think about it. He’s not asking for a lot, but the longer I stay cooped up here, the less normal I feel. I’ve always worked, and while many people don’t enjoy it, since my promotion, I do. But he’s not asking for me to never work again, just take another few days.

  “I can do that. I’ll take three more days, and then I’ll go back.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 38

  Joshua

  “We brought you a casserole,” Mrs. Villafane says. “Kristy baked Delia a cake too.”

  I smile, forcing my lips into the foreign state. I can’t remember when the last time I truly smiled. Probably before we lost our daughter. “Thank you.”

  Delia comes up behind me. “Is that a cake?”

  “It is. Oh, you sweet girl, how are you?” Mrs. Garner asks.

  “I’m doing okay. One day at a time.”

  I open the door fully, letting them inside because it seems they were doing that anyway.

  Mrs. Garner presses her hand to Delia’s cheek. “I’m sorry, honey. I lost two babies before my last son was born. It’s such a hard thing to grieve.”

  “Thank you. Cake makes everything a little easier, right?” Delia tries to sound light, but I hear the sadness in her voice.

  “Cake is a magical thing,” she agrees.

  Mrs. Villafane points to the door. “Joshua, out in the car is a basket with more food. Be a dear and grab it for me.”

  I catch Delia’s grin as I do as she asks. When I get back in, the women have sliced the cake and are dishing it.

  “Now, I know this is a hard time, but if you need anything, we are always here.”

  “We appreciate it.”

  “Even if you just need someone to check in every few hours,” Mrs. Garner offers.

  A piece of cake falls from Delia’s lips. “No, no. That’s not necessary. Josh has been home with me.”

  “Yes, and it’s been great because I heard Jeremy caught those kids that tried breaking into the house.”

  “Which kids?” she asks.

  “Oh, just some teenagers.”

  Delia looks at me. “Told you it was nothing to be worried about.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” I toss back. And it goes for more than that.

  “I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. Garner.”

  “Me too, but as I was saying, I’ll come by every day and we can just sit together if you need some company.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s not necessary, I go back to work tomorrow.”

  Their eyes bulge, and they look to me. “You’re letting her go back to work? What if she falls? What if something happens to her?”

  “I tried to stop her,” I add in. “I wanted her to stay home.”

  I’m beginning to like these women a bit more. They brought food, dessert, and they’re on my side in this.

  “I’ll be fine,” Delia says quickly. “Josh and I have discussed it, and my doctor thinks it’s fine.”

  Mrs. Villafane waves her hand dismissively. “Please. Those hacks don’t know the first thing about babies.”

  “Considering she delivers them every day, I trust she does,” Delia says quietly.

  “Well, I could deliver them too, you know. I had five, and by the last one, I don’t even think I was needed there. The baby does the work, and the doctor is just there to catch it. Clearly, Josh doesn’t agree with the doctor either,” Mrs. Garner helpfully points out.

  “I don’t.”

  Delia crosses her arms against her chest. “It’s a good thing that I have my own mind and can decide for myself.”

  I wait for my new best friends to say something to sway her.

  Instead, it’s mutiny.

  Mrs. Garner pats her arm. “Don’t be upset, honey. We all just love you. If you think you’re okay to do this, then you should.”

  Delia nods once. “Thank you.”

  “I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  She huffs. “You also don’t want me to walk to the bathroom or go outside because of tripping hazards.”

  “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt,” I defend myself.

  “I appreciate that, babe, but I can’t be in a bubble.”

  I’d really fucking prefer that.

  We let it drop as the two ladies continue to chatter on, offering the newest pieces of gossip.

  Apparently, Bill and Fred have decided on a name for the baby, William Frederick . . . how original. And then Mrs. Garner tells me that she saw my mother.

  “Have you talked to her much?”

  Delia looks to me expectantly.

  “I haven’t.”

  “Why not? She’s trying.”

  “I didn’t realize you knew her well.”

  “We don’t, she was always a bit too uppity for me, but I’ve seen her spending time working at the youth center. It’s nice to see her making an effort, unlike your father who is still causing the gossips, not us, though, to talk.”

  I cringe internally. My father is a piece of shit. “Not really my concern anymore.”

  Mrs. Garner taps my arm. “Of course not. You’re nothing like him. You’re a good man who loves the woman he’s with. You’d never let any harm come to her, let alone be the one who inflicts it.”

  “Right.” Just don’t ask the woman I let die or the woman in front of me who is in pain.

  Mrs. Villafane picks up next. “It’s not like Josh would ever be so careless. He’s always there for the people he loves.”

  I clear my throat, uncomfortable with this. “I fail too.”

  “We all fail, but you’ve always been the hero.”

  “I’m not.”

  A part of me wants to wail at these women, show them that I’m not great. I wasn’t there when she lost the baby. I wasn’t there when she needed me most. I let her down, and one day, she’ll see that.

  Mrs. Garner nods. “Well, no one has ever died because of you not being there.”

  If they only knew.

  The walls are closing in.

  I can feel the oxygen being sucked out of my lungs. I stand here, shaking as everything around me happens quickly.

  Delia. She’s in front of me, arms out, yelling for help as the water rises around her. The car is starting to move, the current’s pushing her farther from me.

  “Delia!” I scream. My lungs fighting for air because I’m tired. I’ve been trying to get to her, but each step forward comes with a loss of ground.

  People behind me yell, and then a hand wraps around my arm, tugging me back. “I have to get to her! I have to save her!”

  “You can’t go out there, it’ll take you with her!” the man yells as two other people form a chain, locking hands and arms.

  I don’t care. L
et it take me because I can’t lose her. “Josh! Please! I can’t . . . I’m going to lose him!”

  Her cries tear at my heart, ripping a roar out of my lungs as I go forward harder. I need to reach her. I can’t lose her like this. Not when I know what it is to love her. She needs me, and I will do everything, even at the cost of my life, to get to her. I’ll go down with her before I let her drift away.

  “Delia! Look at me!” I yell as the car nudges farther down. “Don’t leave me, goddamn it! Don’t let go! Not again, baby. Don’t.”

  She nods, and I inch forward. For once, the current isn’t against me, it pulls me closer, but my hand, which was gripping the people forming the chain, weakens.

  “Hold on!” the man yells, and the wind and rain whip my face, making it hard to hear and see.

  I try, but then a strong gust hits us, the car starts to move, and I panic. I need to get to Delia. I have to save her. I can’t let another person die because of me. I will not fail her too. I will never allow another person to die because I loved them.

  I rush, the water coming higher, up over my head, but I don’t stop. I keep going, fighting, yelling, and kicking with all that I am to get there. I reach the window, but it isn’t her in there. She’s gone, swept away.

  Just like everything in my life . . . lost.

  * * *

  “Josh!” Delia is there, shaking me. “Wake up!”

  My eyes open, and I gasp for air. Her hands are on my face, and I’m covered in sweat. “What happened?”

  “You were yelling my name. You were . . . I couldn’t wake you.”

  It was a dream. Just a dream, but it was so fucking real. I could feel the water, the coldness seeping through my bones. My heart is pounding as though I were just back in that flood, fighting to reach her.

  “You’re okay?”

  She nods. “Yes, we’re here, and we’re fine.”

  I move my hands, taking her face in mine, pulling her lips to me. I need her. I need to feel her, touch her, know she’s okay. God, I lost her. I’m going to lose her because nothing I love is safe.

  Delia tries to pull back, but I move quickly, not allowing her to break away. Then she stops fighting. She kisses me with every bit of need that I’m feeling. The two of us, broken and lost in our grief, cling to one another.