by Emerson Rose
“I don’t know, but I’ll try it.”
“Do you want to feed her, or should I get a bottle?”
I want nothing more than to curl up around my little pink bundle of love, but God, my head.
“I . . . I think I . . . no, King, I’m scared, something isn’t right. I’m having trouble seeing and I feel really weird.” I close my eyes again and clutch King’s thigh. I’m going to vomit, this feels like the morning after I met King, when I was hungover and the room was spinning, but this is worse, much worse.
“Okay, hold on. Let me put the baby down.”
Put the baby down, down . . .down . . . where is that again? I don’t know this place. Where am I? Where is he putting my baby? A zing of electricity begins in my feet and travels up my legs at the speed of light, bringing a wave of fear with it that I’ve never felt.
“King, King, something’s wrong, call—”
Chapter 28
King
She’s seizing. I’ve never seen someone have a seizure in person, but there’s no doubt in my mind that’s what’s happening.
“Gloria. Call 911 now.”
Damn it, what do I do? Juliette is crying. I startled her when I yelled, but she’s safe in her bassinette and I can’t worry about her right now.
I kneel on the bed next to Holland and roll her onto her side. Her body is jerking uncontrollably. I rack my brain, trying to think what you’re supposed to do when someone seizes.
“What’s goin . . . oh my God.” Gloria enters the room, already on the phone with 911, to find out why she’s calling them.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. Tell them she’s having a seizure and to come to 2112 Sweetwater Lane right away. And tell them she just had a baby two days ago.”
Holland’s body twists until her face is smashed into the pillow as she convulses. I slide the pillow out from under her and press the mattress away from her mouth and nose so she can breathe, but her skin is ashy and her lips are blue. Fuck, what is going on? After what seems like an eternity, her stiff muscles begin to relax.
“Holland? Holland, baby, are you okay?” Stupid question. Of course she’s not okay. I can’t even tell if she’s breathing. Check her pulse, check her pulse . . . I press my fingers against the side of her neck and wait until I feel a weak, slow beat, thank God. “Baby, please open your eyes. Come on, Holland, can you hear me?” I shake her gently and pat her cheek, but just when I think she might be coming around, her body stiffens again.
“No, no, no. This isn’t happening.” Gloria is moving around behind me, crying and talking to the 911 dispatcher while Juliette screams bloody murder in her bassinette. This is not how this day was supposed to go.
I keep Holland on her side and watch and wait. Five hundred years and three long seizures later, I hear the sirens of an ambulance coming down the street. My heart is overwhelmed with dread. I can’t lose her.
Gloria scrambles down the stairs to let the paramedics inside.
“Upstairs to the right, at the end of the hall. Hurry, please!” she yells.
Holland’s body is still and quiet. The seizures have stopped, or maybe she’s between them. I don’t know. Someone is kneeling beside me . . . the paramedic, thank God.
“Sir, how long has she been unresponsive? Does she have a known seizure disorder?”
“No, and I don’t know how long it’s been.” I turn my head parallel to Holland’s body and look at my watch that is on the arm holding her on her side.
“We got home thirty minutes ago. I brought her upstairs fifteen or twenty minutes after that, and we were only here for a couple of minutes before she started doing this.”
“Greg, she’s been seizing for at least ten minutes.” The paramedic next to me tells his partner.
“Not constantly, though. She’s had three episodes with a minute or two in between.”
“Okay, good, thank you . . . what’s your name?”
“King.” The man pauses, as most people do when I introduce myself. It’s a weird name.
“Okay, King, I’m going to need to examine her. Could you let me squeeze in there?”
“You have to help her, don’t let her die.”
“You’ve got it, buddy. I’ll take good care of her. Now, can you tell me a couple of things like—how old is she?”
“Twenty.”
“Is that her baby with the set of lungs back there?”
“Our baby, yes.” I watch his partner crawl across the other side of the bed and start an IV, but I can’t move. My hands ache from holding her in place.
“Oh okay, so ya’ll are new parents. That’s awesome. What’s her name?”
“Holland.”
“Does Holland have any medical conditions, asthma, blood clotting disorders, heart problems?”
“No, no. She’s healthy. She just had a baby, everything went fine until we got home today,” I say, prying my eyes from her face for a moment to let this guy know how irritated I’m getting. I realize he’s trying to keep me calm, but he’s pissing me the fuck off. I wish he would just shut the hell up and help her.
“B/P’s 187/98. She’s coming around,” Greg says to my friendly paramedic.
“Alright, let’s get her loaded up. We need to get her to the hospital. King, do you think you could let go of her for just a minute while we get her on a gurney?”
I grit my teeth when he puts his hand on my shoulder. She’s improving, though, so I stand and move out of their way while they slide her limp body onto the gurney. She looks so small and helpless. I wish they would just let me carry her downstairs.
“What hospital do you want us to take her to?” Greg asks.
“St. Mary’s, that’s where she delivered. Her doctor is Dr. Glock.”
“Do you want to follow us with the baby, King?” Friendly asks. No, I don’t want to fucking follow them. I don’t want to leave her side, but I don’t have much choice. I can’t leave Gloria here with Juliette.
Savannah rushes into the bedroom, jerking to a halt when she sees Holland being loaded onto a stretcher.
“What’s going on?” She covers her mouth with a trembling hand as the gurney makes a loud click when they lift it from the ground. I grab Holland’s bag from the floor where Gloria dropped it earlier and follow the paramedics with Savannah on my heels.
“How much do you know about babies?” I ask her.
“Uh . . . what? Why? Hey, what’s wrong with her?” She yanks on my shirt as we walk.
“I don’t know, Savannah. She’s having seizures and they’re taking her to the hospital. I want to ride with them, but I need you to take care of the baby for me. Can you do that?”
“Um well . . . yeah.” Everyone pauses at the top of the stairs as they adjust the gurney to fit around the corner.
“What about her mama? Can’t she watch the baby? I mean, I used to babysit a lot, but Juliette’s so new . . . and tiny and stuff.”
“Gloria isn’t stable, Savannah, she’s having some sort of breakdown. I can’t leave the baby with her. You have to stay with Juliette,” I whisper so Gloria won’t hear me.
Her eyes fill with tears, and she swiftly wipes them away. She glances at the paramedics and back at me with wide, concerned eyes.
“Yes, okay. Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll figure it out and I’ll call my mama and have her come and help me. Is she gonna be okay? Like, you don’t think she’s gonna . . .” Her voice trails off and I place my finger against her lips.
“Stop, she’s going to be fine. She has to be.”
“King?” Holland murmurs from the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey there, Holland, can you open your eyes for us?” Greg asks as I take the stairs two at a time to catch up.
“Hey, baby, I’m right here, I’m not leaving you. How are you feeling?”
She reaches her pale hand under the rail of the gurney, and I take it in both of mine as we roll down the sidewalk to the ambulance waiting in the street. Our new
neighbors are milling around their yards and on the sidewalk watching us, probably wondering what the heck kind of people have to be toted off to the hospital the day they move in.
Her eyelids droop.
“I’m so tired.”
Juliette cries inside the house.
“The baby, who’s with the baby?”
“It’s all right, Savannah’s here and she’s calling her mother to come help her.” Her body collapses back onto the stretcher and she sighs, closing her eyes again.
Gloria appears and announces that Savannah and her mother are going to watch the baby, like it’s all her idea, and that she will follow in her car.
“That’s fine, Gloria. We’ll see you there,” I call over my shoulder, climbing into the back of the ambulance. She turns to head to her car and hesitates before turning back around.
“I really should ride with her, you know. I’m her mother, after all.”
My fists ball at my side, and I look her straight in the eyes just before the doors are closed.
“She wants me, Gloria . . . me, not you.” She gasps and the doors close. Fuck, I should have kept my big mouth shut. She’s crazier than a rat trapped in a tin shithouse. I hold Holland’s hand and use my other hand to text Savannah.
I’m serious about Gloria. Don’t trust her around the baby. I may have just stirred up a hornet’s nest, so stay out of her way. Juliette has breast milk in the tan bag on the kitchen table. She’s hungry and stressed. See if you can feed her and calm her down while you wait for your mom. Holland’s awake. I’ll text you when we find out what’s wrong. Call me for anything.
“Eclampsia? What’s that?” Savannah asks when I call to give her an update.
“Apparently, it’s a disease women get when they’re pregnant. It usually begins during pregnancy, but she never had any of the typical symptoms.”
“But she’s not even pregnant anymore,” she says, and I hear Juliette squeaking in the background. The sound makes my chest ache, she’s two days old, and I’ve already left her in someone else’s hands. My dad was never there for me until I could be of use to him in the business. I will not be that Dad. Holland will always come first before anyone else on earth. She will always be my top priority, with Juliette being a close second. There shouldn’t be a hierarchy for love, but for me, there is no question. It’s God, Holland, Juliette, and everything else, period.
“The doctor says that sometimes it comes on after the baby is born. There’s no real cause, but it’s more prevalent in older women and teens.”
“Ah, okay. Well how is she now?”
“Better. They’re giving her medication in her IV to keep her blood pressure down. She’s resting. The seizures took a lot out of her.”
“Um, okay, well do you know when you’re going to be coming home? I mean, we can stay and all, but I have to work tomorrow, and Juliette’s gonna need more to eat.”
“I’ll talk to the nurses, but I think it would be okay to bring the baby down here. If you can stay a couple of more hours, I’ll be back to get her.”
“Okay, sure, no problem. Take your time. Mama and I are having fun, so no hurry.”
“Thank you, Savannah. You have no idea how much you and your mother have helped.”
“Anything for you guys. So . . . is Gloria there?”
“Yes.” She’s sitting across from me on the other side of Holland’s bed. She looks like any normal, attentive mother.
“Oh, you can’t talk, huh?”
“No, not right now.”
“Okay, we’ll see you later then.”
“I won’t be long. Take good care of my girl.”
“You too,” she says.
I smile and press end. Thank God Holland has such a good friend.
Chapter 29
Holland
After one week in the hospital and one week home, I think I’m getting the hang of this mothering thing . . . sort of. King, of course, surpassed me right away in the parenting department when he had to juggle a newborn and a sick girlfriend. He worked hard, balancing the baby’s needs with mine, giving me time to rest and time to bond with our princess. I fall in love with that man more and more every day.
“Here, let me take her so you can get some practice time in, Mommy.”
I shift Juliette from one arm to the other and smile up at him from the plush rocker in her nursery.
“I can do it later. She’s wide awake right now. I want to spend time with her.”
Truth is, I have never wanted to play the violin less in my life. Before Juliette and King, my life was all music all the time, but now that I have a family to take care of, I have no desire to play.
“You sure? You haven’t played in weeks.”
“I know, and I will. I’m just a little tired. Don’t worry, I’ll get back to it, I promise.” He hesitates, narrowing his eyes.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone for a few hours? I can cancel if you need help.”
“No, I’m fine. Go on, get out of here—but kiss me first.” King is dressed in a suit for the first time in weeks. He has a ‘business meeting’ this afternoon. I don’t ask for details because I don’t want to know. He looks so handsome in his black suit, with his dark waves combed back and clean cut face—irresistible, really. One of our agreements when we decided to keep our baby was that I wouldn’t give up going to Juilliard. The other was that he would get out of the drug business. He’s been working on his end of the bargain for months now, and I haven’t done a thing about getting back to playing. If I stay quiet about his end of the deal, maybe he will forget about mine. Anyway, the less I know, the better. As for Juilliard, King wants to live in his penthouse in New York during the school year and come back to Texas when I’m on breaks until I graduate.
All of that seemed like a good plan until this little bundle of sweetness looked up at me with King’s big brown eyes and stole my heart.
Having eclampsia scared the shit out of me. Hell, the whole experience of having a baby scared me so much that I’m thinking Juliette will be an only child. Being sick taught me that life is fragile and unpredictable. Anything can happen. You never know when your time is up, so I want to spend as much of it with King and Juliette as possible. I can’t imagine going to Juilliard or playing in the New York Philharmonic Orchestra now. There may have to be some revisions made to our original plan. I know King’s not going to like the idea of me putting school on hold indefinitely. He had to do some fast talking and probably donate a hefty sum of money to keep my spot open this year. He still thinks that my lifelong dream is to play the violin professionally, but Juliette and King turned my dreams upside down. The only dream I have now is to spend my life loving the two most important people in my world.
King bends to press his lips against mine, and without breaking the kiss, he kneels down in front of me and places his hands on either side of my face. Lost in the fog that surrounds us in these moments, I lace my fingers behind his neck and into his hair with my free hand and prepare to be swept away until a certain little someone begins to squirm and fuss. The fog lifts as we turn our attention to Juliette, and I swear she knows what she’s doing. As soon as she has us sucked into her baby euphoria, she stills and starts cooing. Stinker.
“Always stealing the show, aren’t you, little lady?” I snuggle her closer and touch my finger to the tip of her nose. “Look, she’s smiling.”
“She probably has gas.”
We watch her until she scrunches up her face and starts to turn red, followed by a squishy furrp. We burst into laughter. Ah, the joys of parenthood.
“That’s my girl. Told ya . . . gas,” he says.
“Yeah, guess so. When will you be home?”
I stand, and he follows me to the changing table.
“In a couple of hours. Shouldn’t take long. We’re meeting at the club and then—”
I hold up my hand, gesturing him to stop. “No, no, I don’t want to know. Just go and come back safe. I love you.”
“Yes, King, I’m fine. Ugh, go.”
He rolls his eyes before he disappears down the hall, only to poke his head back in a second later to ask me one last time if I’m sure I’ll be alright. Some things will never change.
I sigh and shake my head, listening for the door to close downstairs. When he’s gone and I’m finished changing Juliette, we head downstairs.
I look out the window and find myself wishing it were warmer outside. The porch swing looks inviting, but the March air is still too cool for sitting outside.
If we sat in the turret, it would feel like we were outside, but when I see the piano and my violin sitting silently in the sunlight, my stomach drops. I feel guilty not practicing or playing at all lately, but I’m busy, damn it. I’m supposed to be focusing on my baby, aren’t I?
Not according to Mama. She’s been over here every day reminding me of how many hours and minutes it’s been since I’ve practiced. She’s totally obsessed. One day, I wanted to throw my violin at her and tell her to go become a professional musician herself.
She actually brought it up to my bedroom while I was feeding Juliette and tried to swap me. I had to remind her that I was breastfeeding and she couldn’t exactly do that for me. That was a week ago. I told her I’d call if I needed her, and I don’t, so I haven’t.
Back upstairs, Juliette and I curl up in the center of our king-sized bed on top of the soft teal comforter. King decorated the house to suit me . . . no royal gold bathrooms here. Nope, just lots of open, airy spaces. He had the decorators use a soft color palette of yellows and greys throughout the first floor, and upstairs in Juliette’s room, a darker grey that we have added pink accents to now that we know she’s a girl. Our room is my favorite, though, with round top windows surrounding a window seat, crown molding and hardwood flooring, with a large, white rug in the center under our bed. The teal bedding was chosen with me in mind, and it ties in beautifully with the teal and silver wallpaper on the accent wall behind our bed. The room also boasts a fireplace with a mantel covered in my belongings and at first, empty picture frames. I’ve already filled over half of them with photos of Juliette and King.