by H. J. Bellus
“Squirrel,” I teased
“Unky! I just reset the password last night,” she squealed, obviously disappointed in my answer.
“I remember. Pop-Tart. Now let me pass, squirt.”
Mac was passed out in the bed of Cree’s truck, nestled down in blankets and pillows. Cree worked and Annie colored in her journal on the greasy workbench. Annie was dressed in a tutu and water boots, with streaks of grease across her forehead. I watched her color for a few seconds then wipe her little dirty arm across her forehead, just like Cree did when he worked. The two were undeniably a pair.
I couldn’t wait to see my baby girl in only a matter of weeks. As I watched and heard Cree trying to change the oil on the 7810 tractor, I realized something was wrong. Cree was cussing like a sailor and throwing tools all over the shop. What the hell?
“Uh, what’s going on?” I asked.
“Milly is in bitch-o-matic mode! That’s what’s fucking wrong.”
“Everything okay?” I asked, half scared of his response, and hoping Annie was tuned into her coloring.
“Will be in about seven days,” he replied.
Then I realized what bitch-o-matic mode meant. I just chuckled and handed Cree his beer while I took over the duty of changing the oil. Cree perched himself next to Annie and started coloring with her while sipping his beer.
“You ready to be a dad, cuz?” he asked between sips.
“Without a doubt,” I replied instantly.
“Things will never ever be the same. Your heart will be divided into two and grow three times larger, all at the same time.”
“I can’t wait, man.”
“Seriously, it’s the most magical thing you’ll ever experience.”
“Yeah,” I replied.
I looked up at Cree as I finished my job, and Annie was now sitting in his lap coloring. Her crazy dark brown hair was strewn in every which direction. She took one hand and wiped her nose with it, and then elegantly slathered the snot on Cree’s pant leg. True love.
“Even Annie told me her unky was gonna make a good daddio,” Cree said, laughing.
“Well, that’s all that matters, right?”
Mac started wiggling around in the truck bed, so I grabbed my Annie from Cree and he went to get his black-haired tank of a son. The door flew open and entered the “Black Sheba.” Cree had called Milly Black Sheba on a couple other accounts when they weren’t seeing eye to eye, and I could now see the pissiness in her eyes and body language she definitely earned the title. This whole Mother Nature thing was fucked up.
“Hey, guys,” she offered in a defeated, downtrodden tone.
Cree wasted no time in kissing ass. He strode straight across the shop and hugged her while holding Mac. I think the squeeze of her ass was too much because she sucker punched him in the gut while muttering some curse words at him.
Then she turned on me. “Where’s Lacey?
I’m pretty sure that was a question, and I’m also pretty sure Milly scared the shit out of me at in that moment.
“Um, working. Doing her last client. She’s gonna take a couple weeks off before the baby comes,” I answered.
Milly pulled out her phone to check something. “She texted me an hour ago saying she was heading home.”
“Knowing her and her pregnancy brain, I’m sure she saw a squirrel.”
“Kinda weird, Tripp. She told me she was loading up in the Jeep. Anyway, you guys want to eat dinner when dumbass shows up?”
“Milly, let the man finish his work since I’m tending to my kids,” Cree said.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Milly said as she hugged Cree, offering an apology.
I sat Annie back down on the workbench so I could finish changing the oil. Annie kept her little fingers locked around my neck.
“Password,” she demanded.
“Pop-Tarts.”
Thirty minutes had passed and no Lacey. Greyson had just walked into the shop. That little shit, where is my girl?
Tripp: Where are u?
5 minutes later
Tripp: Where are u?
5 minutes later
Tripp: I’m coming to find you.
Worry and desperation finally settled in my chest. I had been a worry wart this whole pregnancy. I tried to play things off, but under all my armor, I’m scared fucking shitless for my Princess, our Rose, and all of our healing hearts. I needed my extremely pregnant pretty girl to walk through that door.
Greyson’s phone rang, snapping me from my dreams and nightmares.
“Sup,” Greyson answered. “Really? How bad? Is the fucker dead?” he continued. “He hit another car?”
Greyson dropped his iPhone, letting it hit the grimy floor. It shattered to pieces, just as my heart did with his words. My world disappeared in that second. My life flashed before my eyes as the iPhone made its final decent to the ground. It lay shattered and broken, as my world was about to become.
Greyson just stared at me. He didn’t talk. Cree passed Mac to Milly and grabbed the phone.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded to whoever was about to destroy me.
Cree listened and then threw the phone to its final death.
“Milly, take the kids in the house and call for Willow.”
“Cree, what’s wrong?”
Cree took Milly’s face in his hands and pressed his face to hers. “Milly, do it now,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her lips.
“C’mon, Momma,” squeaked Annie.
Cree turned to face me and the silence before the storm settled over the shop. I was frozen like a statue, with only fear and dread flowing through my veins.
“Tripp, get in the truck,” Cree demanded.
He wasn’t asking to be questioned or resisted. I followed his demand without saying a word. Once settled in his truck, everything changed. Cree didn’t sugarcoat shit. Once we were on the road, and I was secured in the truck, he told me.
“Lacey has been in an accident. Cody hit her.”
No words came. No questions came. Only tears flowed as my world was taken from me.
“Cody walked away, but Lacey didn’t,” Cree continued, pausing every once in a while for my reaction. No reaction came. “He hit her from behind and sent the Jeep rolling. They’re worried about the baby,” Cree finished as we pulled up on the remnants of the accident.
Lacey’s black Jeep lay crumpled like a tin can out in a meadow filled with sunflowers. Bright yellow sunflowers engulfed the black piece of metal. Ironic, because I always secretively compared the beauty of sunflowers to my Lacey. It was only a mile and half from the shop where I had been socializing, while my Princess fought for her and Rose’s life in the middle of a field of sunflowers. Cree had to slow down to get around the wreckage and the cops.
Fuck! She begged me to take the top off the Jeep that morning. My gut told me it was a bad idea, but I gave in to her like I always did. My hands removed a layer of protection from Lacey and the asphalt. A brown crumpled container caught my attention. It was a tub of Rocky Road ice cream splattered on the road, along with a bag of fried burritos mixed with blood and flesh. That’s when my statue finally cracked and I fucking lost it.
My fist punched out the window of Cree’s truck, sending glass spraying everywhere. Complete rage took over my being. Cree tried to calm me down and that’s when we both saw baby Rose’s car seat. Lacey was so damn proud of that thing. She had Milly teach her how to install it and had been driving around with it for weeks.
“I begged her to have a baby. I fucking pleaded with her and now it’s gone. All gone. Everything.”
“You don’t know that, Tripp. Lacey’s a fighter.”
“You know what, golden boy? Things don’t work out in my world. I don’t get happy endings like you, so don’t fucking tell me she’s a fighter.”
Cree pulled up to the hospital and my body flew out of the truck in search of my Princess and Rose. The emergency room was quiet and that shot chills up and down my spine.
<
br /> “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lacey Fitzpatrick.”
“Are you Tripp?” she asked. And then continued with, “Oh wait, she was begging for a guy named douchebag.”
“Yes. That’s me,” I said.
My shoulders slumped in relief because my spitfire was asking for her douchebag.
“I’ll let the doctor fill you in,” the nurse replied as she led me to Lacey.
When she tugged back the curtain, my heart stopped and danced all in the same beat. My Lacey was lying in the bed with a bruised and cut face, only recognizable from her tattoos and crimson stained hair. She was hooked up to all sorts of gadgets and monitors. Her eyes were glued to the baby heart monitor. The rhythmic and steady beat of Rose’s heart filled the room.
My body took me to her side because my brain couldn’t comprehend a thing. I grabbed her hand and brought it the short distance to my lips. I’d never let go of my Princess.
“Tripp,” she breathed out as she revealed her whole face to me. Her eyes were practically swollen shut from crying and all the bruising from the impact of the wreck. Her beautiful face was so hurt.
“We’re going to lose her,” she whispered up to me.
I couldn’t lie to my girl, so I just shook my head no.
“I went to buy us ice cream and burritos and all of a sudden, the Jeep started rolling. I held her, Tripp. I clutched her with my arms. I promise! I protected my Meatball the whole time. I know I cuss and do inappropriate things, but I want her. I protected her.”
Lacey’s whispers were gone and she was now bawling uncontrollably, hysterical at the idea of not being able to protect her Meatball.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re here and our butterflies are here. It’ll be okay.”
The words barely left my mouth when Dr. Wyman walked in.
“Let’s see how our Meatball is doing.”
Dr. Wyman went about his business of checking Lacy. He was intense and very serious, but kept up the small talk for Lacey’s peace of mind. All I could do was hold her and kiss the one piece of her hair that wasn’t blood soaked, because I was too afraid to put any amount of pressure to her battered face.
About five minutes in, all hell broke loose. Lacey let out a blood curdling scream of anguished pain and the baby’s monitor went wild. Dr. Wyman went pale and called for a nurse and an OR room stat.
Lacey’s screams didn’t stop. She was in so much pain, and I could only fucking watch as the pain ate her body alive. I needed to hit something, punish it and demolish everything in sight, to help take her pain away.
“Tripp, it hurts. It’s ripping. Something is ripping from my body. Just like that day—it’s being ripped away from me,” Lacey barely finished her sentence before another wave of pain hit her full force.
Milly was now on her other side. She grabbed Lacey’s face, and was nose to nose with her. Lacey violently yelled through the pain and then clung to Milly.
“I’m losing Rose,” Lacey admitted through her sobs.
Nose to nose, Milly let Lacey have it only in a way Milly could. It was a soul sisterhood acting out right in front of me. I was too scared to do anything or help Lacey, so thank god for Milly.
“You. Are. Not. Losing. Anything. Today. You. Dumbass. Fight. Remember fight, because your baby’s coming today. Remember those words.”
Milly exposed her tits to the ER. What kind of fucking tactic was she resorting to? Was she planning on nursing Lacey?
“I was planning on your dumbass coming over tonight for dinner. I’ve had the shittiest day of my life, and I thought Swedish Fish with my fishter was the ticket to a little piece of happiness. So I stuck some damn fish down my bra, so they’d be warm before I went out to the shop. Now, I’m standing in a hospital with Swedish Fish in my bra, so you fucking li’l twat waffle better put some giddy in your go and fucking fight.”
“I love you, Milly. Never forget that,” Lacey whispered as the pain subsided for a sliver of time.
Dr. Wyman returned and wasted no time in comforting any of us, “Lacey, we’re taking your baby via emergency C-section. We’re losing the baby and have to move fast.”
A team of nurses and doctors rushed in and took my life out the door. I tried to follow, but was held back.
My knees hit the floor and I finally cried. I cried in fear of losing my baby and my wife all in the same day. Somehow Milly pulled me to my feet and we both sank onto a couch in the waiting area. Milly held me while I let it all out.
Cree joined us in the waiting room, sitting on the other side of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.
Cree didn’t deserve my outburst of anger towards him. Yes, he had the life we all wanted, but it wasn’t his fault. Cree didn’t say a word, but just held my hand as we continued to wait. It felt like hours, even days, but the clock on the wall revealed we had been waiting twelve whole fucking minutes.
A commotion at the nurse’s desk caught all of our attention, or maybe it was the waft of stale alcohol. It was Cody. Perfect! I needed something to hurt. I didn’t have a chance to move a muscle before Cree had knocked the son of a bitch to the ground and started pounding his face in.
Milly and I sat there and watched. Both us knew that we all wanted him dead and didn’t have the want or drive to stop Cree from making it happen. An officer finally pulled Cree off and warned him to stay away. Cody was cuffed and quickly escorted from our sight.
It was in that moment I remembered the letter I received from my dad a couple weeks before Halloween. I had carried it around in my pocket, not having the courage to open it. Right now, I needed the pain from his words, and the hatred from his soul, to make me feel better. I popped open the letter and started reading. Milly’s curiosity piqued and she tried to read over my shoulder.
Tripp—
I have wanted to give you this letter for a very long time. I respected your mother’s wishes by not telling you this. I have despised you since the day you were born. Tripp, there was never anything you could do to make me love you or even like you. You tried your hardest and I pushed you away. I pushed you straight into your shitty future, filled with drugs and failure because that is what you deserved.
On my death bed I can finally tell you that you are a talented ball player. And I can only admit this because I’m dying. I sent you to Colorado all those summers for a reason. You needed to spend time with your real dad. I’m not your dad. Your mother’s first love was my brother, John. I found them together in the barn, and it devastated me. I begged your mom to stay with me. She did, and I moved her clear across the country from John. Two months later we found out she was pregnant. It could only be my brother’s child because I had never been with your mom. You see, I had morals, unlike my brother and you.
I told her I would love her through it all, and I did. I never promised I would love you. I tried, but Jesus Christ, you looked more like my brother than his own son did. This is not a letter of forgiveness for my brother, your mom or you. Rather a letter of understanding. Now you know why I made you sit in the car during your brother’s games. It was because I didn’t want the spawn of my brother to suck the joy out of every ounce of my life.
Moving her clear across the country wasn’t far enough, because she was bearing his child. I do apologize for keeping your mother’s secret all these years. You should have had the chance to be loved by John, Cree, and Willow as a son and brother. John knew you were his. I told him to stay away from your mom and, in turn, I promised to let you spend the summers with him.
Robert
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” a young nurse called tentatively into the waiting room.
My head was spinning with clarity. Now it all made perfect sense as to why my father could spew hatred my way. The letter fell from my hands, just as any ounce of love I had for my father fell to the floor, never to be seen or acknowledged again.
“Here,” I said, as I bounded up to her with Milly, and then Cree, right on my heels.
“Congratul
ations! Your baby girl is alive and healthy at seven pounds, four ounces. You’ll be able to see her in about ten minutes.”
When the nurse finished, a team of doctors raced down the hall and into the OR.
“My wife?”
“Sir, right now the doctors are doing everything they can,” the nurse offered.
“What? Rose is okay, so Lacey has to be. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” I roared.
“She’s lost a lot of blood and is still bleeding. The doctors also have to relieve the swelling in her brain. It’s not looking good, but they’re doing everything they can.”
“No,” I said, refusing to accept her information.
“Sir, the nurses will be out in a few minutes to take you back to see your daughter.”
Relief hit me that my Rose was healthy, but dread filled me, creating an evil mixture of hatred and despair. I needed Lacey. Rose needed Lacey. Fuck! We all needed Lacey in our lives. I dropped to the floor as the nurse’s words truly registered in my grief stricken state. And that’s when Milly lost her shit and I couldn’t even help Cree stop her.
“What the fuck, Jenny? Your name is Jenny, right? That’s what your name tag says, or did you dig that out of the fucking dumpster? Who gives you the fucking right to come out here and announce to the goddamn world that my best friend is not looking good and that her chances of survival are slim? Are you a fucking neurosurgeon? Nope! That’s what I thought. Why don’t you go back to wiping asses and mopping up puke, the job you’re really being paid to do? Oh, and the next time you want to predict the livelihood of my sister, you better check yourself.”
Milly cocked back her arm and let it fly. Cree stopped her before she could land a punch straight to Jenny’s grill. Fuck, why did he stop her? I totally agreed with Milly and wanted to see her beat the living fuck out of the woman who so brazenly announced Lacey’s impending departure. Milly turned on Cree and let him experience all of her anger. She finally melted into a puddle on the floor next to me while Cree slumped down next to us.