Carrying a box of Oreo cookies in one arm and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked ice cream in the other, I plopped myself on the couch and turned on the TV. I would clean my wounds with sugar.
It will get better.
This too shall pass.
But I couldn’t stop that little voice in the back of my head, the one that was so faint yet so present. The one that kept whispering to me that not all marriages were meant to last forever.
* * *
To my surprise, I heard the garage door open at three in the afternoon. Somewhere between a daytime soap opera and an old episode of Desperate Housewives, I must have dozed off. Wiping the sleep from my face, I glanced behind the couch to find Bruce walking in.
“Where’s AJ?” I asked him. “Why are you home so early?”
“I don’t like to fight, Stephanie.” His calming voice soothed the pain in my chest. He strolled over to the couch and sat down bedside me. “I left work early so we could talk.”
I wrapped my hands around a pillow as a way to shield my heart from getting hurt any more than it already had.
“Bruce . . .”
I said his name, and a wave of exhaustion crashed over me. He wanted to have this conversation now, but in my head, I’d been having this conversation for the past two years. I swallowed slowly before looking at him.
“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, if you don’t love me like you used to, we can learn to co-parent together. I don’t want to be in a marriage if you’re only with me because of our son.” I shrugged, knowing I had officially admitted defeat. There wasn’t any fight left in me. I had run out of fucks to give. “We can learn to coexist together. AJ will be our only priority.”
Bruce rested his arms on his knees. “I think you’re just a bit hormonal.”
The verbiage slipped out of his mouth, and my eyes narrowed a little as I considered what he just said. It took a second for the words to register in my head. And then a few more seconds to contemplate whether killing him was worth going to jail for.
I saw red. Blood, crimson, fire engine red.
“I am not hormonal!” I cried. “Stop making me feel like I’m crazy. I’m not fucking crazy, Bruce! I know what I feel and what we had, and this isn’t it.”
“Steph.” He reached a hand out for mine, but I swatted it away.
“No! I can’t do this anymore, Bruce. I can’t sit here and hope for a better tomorrow. I quit. I quit us, the fighting, the never-ending bullshit. I fucking quit.”
“Okay.” He lowered his head.
“Okay? Okay!” I threw my hands in the air, more frantic with each passing second. “That’s all you have to say? Okay! Look at me,” I demanded. “Look at us! Is this even normal? I’m fucking hysterical over here and you blame hormones. I’ve been crying since God knows when and your only response is okay? Fucking okay?” I trembled with rage.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This wasn’t a good idea. I should go get AJ.”
I scoffed and forced myself to swallow all the pain down inside of me. As I had before, I would brush it all under the rug. No one would see the imperfections in my marriage if I didn’t show them. Besides, a person could only argue for so long before throwing their hands up and admitting defeat. What was the point in talking when he had his priorities set? I wasn’t a priority, nor was our marriage.
“Of course. Please don’t let my crazy worry you. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” Fine. Fine. Fine. I lied through my teeth. The way I hurt, I’d never be fine.
“What do you want?” he said when he was a few steps away from me. His eyes were narrowed as he looked down at me.
“Honestly?” I sucked in all the air my lungs could contain. “I wish I could go back in time and not marry you.” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I said the words hoping they would hurt him the same way I was hurting.
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t react. He simply grabbed his keys and walked out of the house.
I closed my eyes and wished this would all disappear. I wished he would disappear.
I wished I would disappear.
12
Present
“Mom?” AJ called out for me. It was the weekend after the Fourth of July. I had spent most of the day catching up on laundry while How I Met Your Mother reruns played on the TV.
“In here!” I called back, folding a fitted sheet for the eighth time.
He walked into the living room. “Mom, I’m not feeling too good.” He looked lethargic, his eyes glassy, and without touching him, I knew he had a fever.
“What are you feeling?” I rose from the floor and rushed to him. My palm touched his forehead. Fevers in children were expected, but I was a panicky mother and AJ was all I had.
“I’m just really tired, Mom.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll call Luke.” I tried to keep my voice calm while my heart hammered in my chest.
I darted down the hallway and grabbed my phone off the charger. I hated that my hands trembled as I dialed Luke. The phone rang in my ear while I hurried to the medicine cabinet in my bathroom and pulled out the children’s Tylenol and a thermometer.
“Hey, Steph,” he said on the third ring. There were perks to dating a pediatrician, and this was one of them.
“Hey,” I said, filling the dosage cup with the required amount of Tylenol. “AJ is complaining about being overly tired. He has a fever, and he looks off. Should I just monitor him?” I rushed back to AJ, who was now sleeping on the couch.
“What’s the temperature?” Luke voice grew serious, and I knew that his eyebrows had furrowed. He always did that when he stopped being the Luke I knew and turned into Dr. Dixon.
“Hold on one second,” I said, putting the phone down and hitting the speaker button. “AJ.” I gently slid my hand under his shoulders. “Can you sit up for me?” I lifted his back off the couch. “I need to take your temperature.”
AJ groaned and didn’t open his eyes. Instead, he opened his mouth for me and lifted his tongue, so I could insert the thermometer. I had never seen him like this. Looking down at the digital thermometer, my heart raced.
“Oh crap,” I said as the numbers continued to climb.
“How bad is it?” Luke said on the loudspeaker.
The thermometer beeped. “Shit.” I’d never seen it this high.
“How high is it, Stephanie?” Luke’s voice was serious on the other end of the line.
“105.6.” My hands trembled as I slid the thermometer back into its plastic case.
“When did it start?” he asked, and I could hear him rustling on the other side of the phone.
“He only complained about it now.” My mouth grew dry as I fussed with the cap of the medicine bottle. “He was fine this morning. He was playing out in the yard and everything.” My chest grew tight and my eyes filled with tears. “He has no cough, no runny nose. It came out of nowhere.”
“Give him Tylenol, and then get him in the car and bring him to the emergency room.” Luke’s voice was clear and sharp. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Why?” I said, trying to hide the panic that grew inside of me. His dosage of Tylenol sat on the table beside me.
“His fever is too high, and we need to bring it down.” I heard a door shut on his end. “The last thing we want is for him to have a seizure.” His words made my heart sink. “I’ll meet you there, Stephanie. Hurry.”
That last word made my heart stop.
Some moms had super inner strength while others cried frantically until their husbands took over. I was both the fighter and the worrier. I slipped my feet into tennis shoes, pulled my purse high on my shoulder, and then locked my arms around AJ’s frail body. “Come on, buddy.” I kissed the top of his hot head. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”
A part of me wanted to call an ambulance. He looked lifeless and couldn’t even hold himself up. But waiting for an ambulance would only take time,
and Luke said to hurry. I poured the Tylenol down his throat, then strapped him into his booster seat before climbing into the driver side. Before I turned on the car, I inhaled slowly and tried to calm my erratic heart rate. There was no need to drive like a lunatic. I needed to get my son to the hospital safe and sound.
Backing out of my driveway, I put the car in drive and headed toward St. Michael’s Memorial Hospital.
Within twenty minutes, I pulled up to the emergency room entrance. Luke was already there pacing the sidewalk. When he spotted my car, he waved me down. “I can’t park here,” I said, rolling down the window.
“I know.” He rushed to AJ’s door. “I’ll take him in while you find parking. Meet me inside.”
I nodded and silently thanked the Lord above for putting Luke in my life. I watched as he unbuckled AJ and took him in his arms. He looked like a toddler cradled against Luke’s broad chest, and when the door shut, my heart sank.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not yet.
I didn’t know how I’d parked the car, or where, or how I got inside. I only remembered running through the emergency room doors and down the long corridor some nurse pointed me toward. I pulled back the curtain divider with a shaky hand as my breath came out in spurts.
AJ was already in a hospital gown and lying on the bed when I arrived. Luke was talking to the doctor, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened intently. He looked over at me, and our eyes connected. I watched as his lips pursed together.
“What is it?” My hands coiled around AJ’s and swallowed the golf ball inside my throat.
Slowly, Luke walked over to me. “We don’t know yet.” His left hand held my shoulder and he looked over to the doctor beside him. “Dr. Burton, this is Stephanie, AJ’s mom.” Luke said making a quick introduction. I shook Dr. Burton’s hand. “I just explained everything to Dr. Burton. He’s going to run some tests and we should know more soon.”
I nodded, hoping the tears that threatened to fall wouldn’t drip down my face. I couldn’t fall apart now, not this very second, not until I knew for sure what was wrong with my baby boy.
Luke took me in his arms, but before my head could touch his chest, AJ suddenly went rigid, then every part of him began convulsing uncontrollably. “What’s happening?” I shouted, fear coursing through my body.
Luke shoved past me and rushed to AJ. He lowered his bed and pressed a button behind his headboard. Luke worked frantically to hold AJ in place as his body trembled violently. There was no stopping the tears that dripped down my face, the fear that consumed my soul. There was no stopping the screams that came from my mouth or the haunting thought that I would lose my son in the same hospital I lost my husband. Luke and Dr. Burton turned AJ on his side and held his face in position.
“What’s happening!” I cried out. My hands gripped my chest as I desperately tried to keep it together. “Please tell me he’s okay! Luke!” I screamed as I gasped for air.
“He’s seizing!” Luke shouted over my painful cries. “His fever is too high.”
“Oh, God, no.” I covered my face. My sweet baby boy, my heart, my everything. I couldn’t watch. I had to pull my gaze away from his shaking body.
“Stephanie, try to stay calm,” Luke said.
I folded my hands under my chin and silently prayed. Please, God, you already have Bruce. You can’t have AJ, too. Please, I need him. When my back hit the wall, I counted my breaths. Make it to ten, I thought as a doctor and two nurses joined Luke.
One, inhale, exhale.
Two, inhale, exhale.
Three, inhale, exhale.
I made it to six before I peeled my eyes open, and Luke stood in front of me.
“Steph,” his hands laced around the upper part of my arm. “He’s okay.”
My vision blurred. I swallowed and forced myself to breathe. Unable to utter a sound, I nodded.
“They’re taking him up for an X-ray. His lungs don’t sound clear and he’s wheezing. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He enveloped me in his arms. His lips pressed to the top of my head, comforting my scared heart. “I’ll walk you over to admitting. They’re going to need him to stay overnight.”
I didn’t remember signing the forms. I didn’t remember handing any documents over to the receptionist. All I remembered was that Luke was by my side the entire time. He was my anchor, my rock. I was on autopilot, and Luke was my savior.
We sat in the waiting room for what seemed like eternity, but only twenty minutes later, a different doctor appeared at the door.
“Hi. I’m Dr. Preeti, and I work alongside Dr. Burton.” The petite Indian woman introduced herself.
“Is he okay?” Luke asked.
Slowly, I forced myself to stand, my legs shaking in the process. Afraid to look at the doctor, I kept my head lowered. All I could think about was that Bruce had been brain-dead after having an aneurysm. When I decided to unplug him, I said my good-byes and went home with AJ gripped to my hip. I spent that entire night Googling brain aneurysms. I knew what caused them, the varieties, and the deadliest. For hours I researched, and I swore the next time I would be prepared. I knew everything there was to know about brain aneurysms, but I didn’t know anything about seizures. Would it be the same outcome?
My heart rate picked up and the room spun. Quietly I prayed under my breath before the doctor spoke, “Please, God, don’t take him from me.”
“He has bacterial pneumonia,” she stated. Her eyes were dark brown, but I could see compassion in them.
My heart sank.
“By the looks of his X-ray, he’s had walking pneumonia for quite some time now,” she added.
“What?” I shot my head up. Pneumonia? “He had no symptoms. He didn’t even have a cough!” I don’t know where I found the strength, but my voice grew louder. Luke extended his arms and held me. “Can I see him?” My voice cracked.
“Of course,” the doctor replied. “We’re taking him back up for a CT scan, so we can have a better look at his lungs, and then we’ll start him right away on antibiotics. We’ll need to keep him overnight for observation, but as soon as he’s in his room, I’ll come get you.”
When she walked away, my knees buckled under me. “I can’t do this again.” I shook my head, and Luke pulled me close to his chest. “I can’t lose him. I can’t go through this again.”
It’s going to be okay.” He guided me to sit back down. “I promise you, Steph. He will be okay.”
Rendered useless, I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. AJ needed to be fine. He needed to. I wouldn’t survive without him.
At some point Luke stepped away to get coffee. He handed me the Styrofoam cup. “Drink this. You need your strength.”
“How could I have missed this?” I said, hugging the cup.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Stephanie.” He sat beside me and placed a hand on my thigh. “This happens.”
“This does not happen to me.” I stared at the carpeted floor of the waiting room and replayed the last few weeks with AJ. “I should have seen the signs. There had to be signs.” I shook my head.
“Not always,” Luke added. “AJ is an active kid. He probably felt pain in his chest but thought it was normal.”
My phone rang inside my purse and reality hit. “Crap,” I said under my breath, and handed my cup to Luke.
“What is it?” Luke asked as I dug through my purse for my phone.
“He was supposed to go to his grandparents’ house for dinner tonight. I assume that’s my father-in-law calling.” I pulled the phone out of my purse to see Alistair’s number flash on the screen.
“Answer it,” Luke said
“And tell them what?” I sighed dramatically. “That their grandson is in the same hospital where their son died?” The phone stopped ringing, and I tossed it back into my purse.
“There’s a lot about you I don’t know,” Luke said calmly. “But the one thing I do know is that you take on everything alone when you don’t have to.” He entwin
ed our fingers together. “I understand you’re a single mom, but you have in-laws who want to help. Let them. Let them be there for you. Let them be there for AJ.”
I hesitated, debated, and contemplated what Luke said, and in the end, I realized he was right. It shouldn’t be about me, but about what was in the best interest of AJ. Ten minutes after my father-in-law called, I called him back.
“Hi, Stephanie, dear.” His voice carried depth and weight. He sounded like an older Bruce. “Sue wants to know what AJ would like for dinner.”
“Actually . . .” Tears slowly trickled down my cheeks. Luke gripped my hand, letting me know he was there for me. “AJ is in the hospital.” I could feel my throat closing up. “He was complaining that he wasn’t feeling well, so I rushed him in and they just admitted him,” I said in one breath. “He has bacterial pneumonia, and they’ll be keeping him overnight.” My voice broke with every word. “I’m sorry, but he won’t make it to dinner tonight.”
“Are you at St Michael’s Memorial?” Alistair said calmly.
“Yes.” My voice was barely a whisper.
“We’ll be right there.”
Unable to say anything, I hung up the phone and covered my eyes with my hands, letting the soft sobs escape.
“What can I do?” Luke asked.
“You’re doing everything I need you to do.”
* * *
I didn’t know if it was the sight of a familiar face or the comfort of seeing my father-in-law storm in like a frantic grandparent, but when Alistair and Sue walked through the waiting room, I sighed with relief. Luke and I both stood to greet them. The tears dripped down my cheeks when Alistair’s arms laced around me in a vice grip.
“There, there,” he said. He released me and held my arms. “He’s going to be fine.”
I nodded, unable to speak at the fear of more tears. From the corner of my eye, I watched as Sue and Luke stood awkwardly staring at each other. “He was fine this morning,” I finally said.
The Perfect Life Page 13