by Anna Cackler
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. After a while, the noise of the other students faded into nothingness and the only sounds we could hear was the soft Shhh of falling snow.
“Are you about ready to go?” Finn asked eventually.
“Yeah.”
He held out one hand and helped me up. My back and butt were completely soaked and very cold, but it was all worth it. Finn and I began strolling back to the school.
“You know, it’s ordinary moments like this that make life so wonderful. Everyone is always so obsessed with breaking out of the mold and whatnot, but I’m glad to be average. Ordinary. Just some good old fashioned snow on a cold day.” I held out one hand to catch snowflakes. “It’s peaceful.”
“You’re not so ordinary as you might think,” Finn said.
“Yeah right, Finn. I get average grades, I’m average looking, and I don’t stand out in any way.”
“Uh, wrong, wrong, and wrong.”
“Very funny.” I laughed it off. “Don’t flatter me.”
“I’m serious, Em,” Finn said, touching my arm to stop me. “You think you’re terrible at math, but you’re in an upper level math class in your junior year, and upper level Chemistry, too. You don’t get there by being average. And as for your looks, that’s just stupid. You’re gorgeous. No question there. And how do you think Cavanaugh could zero right in on you from the first moment if you didn’t stand out?”
My face was hot, despite the snowflakes that were sticking to my nose and eyelashes. I couldn’t say anything.
He turned and started walking toward the building again. “And life seems so peaceful to you because you’re not over-thinking it. That’s the problem most people have. They try so hard to be what they think they ought to be that they forget to just live life. You’ve never had that problem. You’re honest with yourself. And that, by the way, is also far from average.” He held open the front door for me and waited.
“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn’t burst his bubble, not when he was being so nice to me.
“You’re welcome.”
I squeezed under his arm through the door and he followed me to the library.
“Merry Christmas,” I said before heading out toward the now empty parking lot.
“You know I’ll probably see you almost every day between now and Christmas.”
“Yeah, I know. But it’s still nice to say.”
He smiled. “Merry Christmas, Emily.”
The snow kept up as hard as ever the whole way home. I had to drive very slowly just to be sure I was still on the road, which was only visible because of the black tire tracks imprinted on the white snow by the other cars.
By the time I pulled into our driveway, the entire world was a blanket of pure white wonderfulness. I parked the car and trudged up to the front door. My face hurt from grinning so much, but I couldn’t help it. Snow just made me so happy.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” I kicked my boots on the door frame before coming in an attempt to knock the snow off of my boots.
“Emily?” Mom’s strained voice floated in from the living room.
“Mom?” I stepped into the living room, still stripping off my layers. She was sitting on the couch, and her face was a white mask of pain. “Mom! What’s wrong?” I dashed over to her, dropping to my knees in front of her. She had both of her arms wrapped around her stomach and her skin was clammy and pale.
“I’m fine. I’ll be all right,” she said through gritted teeth.
I didn’t believe her. This was my worst nightmare come to life: my mother in pain, obviously sick because of the pregnancy.
Dad’s pounding footsteps on the stairs rattled the whole house, cutting off my pending arguments. He was carrying Mom’s coat and boots and went to help her into them. “Good, you’re home!” he said when he saw me. “We need you to wait here for your brother, and then you guys can follow us to the hospital.”
“The hospital?” My voice came out in a weak squawk. “No! I’m going now!” This was it. Every fear I’d had since Mom had first told us she was pregnant. I knew this would end badly!
Dad didn’t stop his frantic work. “Don’t argue, Emily,” he said. “You wait for your brother, and then you come.” He looked up at me, the worry etched plainly around his eyes. “All right?”
I stared back at him, terrified. “All right.”
Dad finished bundling up Mom and helped her to her feet. She was bigger than ever now, and it wasn’t as easy for her to get up and down even when she wasn’t sick. They shut the door behind them, and the sudden silence of the house pressed down upon me.
It had all happened so fast. One minute I as on top of the world. The next, it had all come crashing down around me.
Seventeen
I glanced at the clock. Aaron wouldn’t be here for at least half an hour. I sat on the couch and my heel thumped against the floor unconsciously. It seemed like forever. Terrible thoughts and visions of my mother on a hospital bed whirred through my mind, but I wouldn’t let myself think of the worst possibilities. Not yet, anyway.
Then, after an eternity, I heard tires in the gravel drive. I dashed to the door and was at Aaron’s truck before he’d even gotten out. I climbed into the passenger seat and he stared at me in amazement. “What-”
“Mom’s sick. We’ve got to get to the hospital!” I slammed my door shut, then looked around when I realized we still weren’t moving. Aaron was staring at me, his mouth hanging open.
“What?” His eyes were as big as saucers in his dirty face.
“Drive!” I shouted at him. “Let’s go!”
He didn’t argue this time. Now, I knew that Aaron was a terrible driver, but this time I was glad of it. His ancient Ford truck weaved and dodged through the traffic at breakneck speeds. I was surprised we didn’t get pulled over, but grateful at the same time. The snow was still falling thickly, but that didn’t seem to faze my brother even a little bit. It would take a lot more than a little snow to send his heavy truck off of the road. My brother’s face was incomprehensible, but his knuckles on the steering wheel were white.
He parked the truck as close to the main entrance to the St. John Hospital as he could, but we both ran the short distance anyway. The nurse at the main desk gave us directions to Mom’s room in a bored voice. Something inside me said I should be annoyed with that woman for being so indifferent, but really I didn’t care. Not really.
Aaron and I found the right room without difficulty and burst inside. Mom was in the bed already, dressed in a standard hospital gown. She tried to smile at us, but she couldn’t hide the pain in her wide eyes.
“What’s going on?” Aaron blurted out.
“Mom?” I tried to keep my voice steady.
“Just a headache,” she said.
“It’s not just a headache if you’re in the hospital!” Aaron shouted.
Dad glowered at him. “We don’t know yet. The doctor’s on his way in.”
As if Dad had spoken some cue, the door opened behind us and a middle aged man with thick glasses stepped into the room. “Okay,” he began surveying the room. His eyes fell on Aaron and me, and he paused. “If we could have a little privacy, please, we’ll get started.”
“But-” Aaron started, but Mom cut him off.
“Trust me, you really don’t want to see this,” she said.
“But I-”
“Aaron, I am naked under this paper gown, and you had better believe that I am only going to get naked-er.”
In spite of everything, I started laughing. If Mom was well enough to make a joke like that, then maybe the situation wasn’t so serious. Even the doctor was grinning now.
“Fine,” Aaron agreed, thoroughly grossed out. He pushed me out of the door, glaring at me for laughing.
“Oh come on! It was funny!” I said. The worst of the fear was abating now, and I could feel myself think again. It was refreshing, actually. The nagging weight in my gut had doub
led in size, but panic was no longer an issue. It had only been about half an hour since this news had first smacked me upside the head, and the adrenaline rush was finally abating.
“No it was disgusting,” he said with a grumble, and I snorted again at his discomfort.
It was almost an hour before a nurse told us we could go back inside. Aaron was on his feet and gone almost before I had comprehended what the nurse had said.
“So, what is it?” he asked the instant we opened the door. Mom was hooked up to an IV, now, and Dad still looked strained.
“Something called preclam, or clampsy, or something,” Dad said.
“Preeclampsia,” Mom corrected. “It’s a prenatal disorder. I’ll have headaches and high blood pressure.” She looked and sounded much like her usual self now. “And also, I just want it on the record that excessive weight gain is a symptom not a cause so nobody start in on that.”
I smirked, but refrained from comment.
“That’s it?” Aaron asked.
“No,” Dad said, obviously annoyed that Mom had left something out. “The longer your mother stays pregnant, the sicker she’ll get. The baby, too. They could-” But he stopped before saying that last word. I almost wish he’d just said it, though. Just to get it out on the open.
They could die.
“Can’t they just cure it?” I asked, feeling stupid even as I said it. If they could cure it, Dad probably wouldn’t be so upset.
“The only cure is to give birth.” Mom said this so calmly that she almost sounded like she was settling in for a nice nap.
“Can’t they induce labor?” Aaron asked. “They can do that, right?”
“Too early,” Dad replied. “The baby won’t survive.”
“When then?” I asked.
“We’re shooting for twenty-five weeks,” Dad said. “And then as long as we can hold out after that.”
“When’s twenty-five weeks?”
“Mid January.”
“Next month?” Aaron burst out. “That’s way too early!”
“Exactly why we’re going to try to hold out as long as we can,” Dad said. “They’re keeping her here overnight, then she should be able to come home. She’ll be on bed rest, though. Strict bed rest.” He looked over at her sternly, and she smiled back at him. She didn’t look very sick, just a little tired now. He tried to smile back, but Dad was never a good one for putting on a good face.
“So what are we looking at here,” I asked. “Is the baby going to be all right?”
“We don’t know,” Dad said with a sickening sense of finality.
“And what about Mom? She’s going to be okay?” I looked over at her. She looked pasty under the fluorescent lights, and her hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat. She smiled at me in such a way that made me think she wasn’t concerned at all.
“Mom’s going to be fine,” Dad said, but he wouldn’t look at me.
“You know good and well that we don’t believe you,” Aaron said. “Give us a real answer. We deserve to know.”
“I’m going to be fine,” Mom answered this time. “There is a small chance that it could go badly, but it’s very small. So small that we shouldn’t even worry. The sooner I deliver, the better.”
“Oh Mom.” I sank into the chair next to her bed and rested my head on her arm. Aaron slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. Mom had always had a terrible knack for saying things bluntly and calmly at the same time.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, still smiling. “We just need to worry about the baby. That’s all.”
“I’ll worry about whoever I want to,” I mumbled against her blankets.
We all settled in for a very long night. After a while, I was elected to run out and pick up some fast food for the three of us. Mom feasted all night on hospital food and IV juice. She didn’t look to unhappy about it, though. She had never been a big fan of instant burgers.
Around eleven o’clock, Dad finally kicked us out and sent us home. He was going to stay with Mom, but he wanted us to go back to the house. We both put up a heated fight, but in the end Mom sternly told us that we were keeping her up and that if we didn’t get out she would kick us out herself.
I left the room fighting an amused smile.
The next day dawned bright and clear. The snow had finally stopped sometime in the night, but there was at least a foot of accumulation all over everything. My car was completely buried. I couldn’t see the road from my window, but I was sure it was impassable. How could it not be?
I was awakened by the shrill ringing of the telephone around nine o’clock.
“What?” I grumbled into the phone. I was still half asleep and did not appreciate the fact that no one else in the house seemed to care enough about a ringing phone to get out of bed to answer it.
“Why so grumpy on such a wonderful day?” Shannon trilled through the receiver.
“What time is it?”
“It’s nine-fifteen. Were you still asleep?”
“Kind of.” I settled down into the couch and laid my head on the throw pillow with a sigh.
“Well it’s time to get up. You should come Christmas shopping with me. I’ve got a whole list of family members that Dad needs me to buy for, and I couldn’t help but get on board.
“Uh, I guess,” I said. “Aren’t the roads buried?”
“No the roads are completely fine. When should I pick you up? An hour?”
“Fine. I can be ready in--wait! Oh my gosh I can’t believe I forgot. I can’t go anywhere today, Shannon. My mom’s in the hospital.” I sat up with a groan as I remembered in full detail everything that had happened the night before.
“What? What happened?” she asked.
I told her everything, right down to Mom’s sarcasm. “I’m not sure how bad this is, but I know it can get real bad,” I finished. “She’s on bed rest until the baby’s born.”
“Oh my gosh. How is she now?”
“I dunno,” I said. “I should probably call up there and find out. I think they’re mostly just worried about losing the baby.”
“Oh I’m so sorry, Em.” Her voice changed suddenly, like she was speaking away from the phone. “What? No, it’s not Emily. Her mom’s in the hospital.” There was a pause. “I don’t know! Something to do with the baby. She’s on bed rest.” Another pause. “All right, fine!” She returned to the phone. “Finn says we’re coming over.”
“No, don’t come over,” I said. “Let me at least find out what’s going on first, all right?”
She relayed my message to Finn and then paused before answering. “Okay. Just call us if you need anything at all, okay?”
“All right. Thanks, man.”
“See you later.” The phone went dead and I stared at it for several seconds before finally dialing the hospital’s number.
“Hello?” Dad answered when I was connected to their room. His voice was bright, as if he’d been up for hours.
“Hey Dad,” I said. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine,” he said. “We’re just waiting for the doctor to come around and tell us we can come home.”
“And the baby?”
He chuckled. “The baby’s fine so far, too.”
I hesitated for a moment or two before adding in a soft voice. “Fine, but not great?”
“No, not great, Em,” he said in a solemn voice. “We should be home in a few hours. Do you think you two can take care of yourselves until then?”
I looked up and saw Aaron plod down the stairs in his pajama pants. He looked a mess, like he hadn’t slept or showered in days. “I think we can manage. I can at least, if Aaron can’t.”
“You be nice to your brother,” Dad said. “You’re a lot smarter than he is.”
“Too true. See you later. Call us if anything changes, okay?”
“All right. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“When’s breakfast?” Aaron asked in a throat
y voice when I’d hung up.
“Whenever you make it.” I was already dialing Shannon’s number again. “I’ve got to get out of this house.”
“What do you mean?” he asked in an accusing voice. “You’re going out while Mom’s lying sick in the hospital?”
“I can’t just sit around here twiddling my thumbs,” I said, pressing send on the receiver. “It’s Christmas, and Mom is certainly in no condition to worry about making the holiday happen.”
Aaron groaned and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“Finn? Tell Shannon I’m coming with her today. I’ll stop by your house in an hour.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You guys can go another day.”
“Another day Mom will be here and I’d feel guilty leaving her. We’ll go today.”
“All right. I’ll tell her.”
Thus began my first Christmas that was anything but a holiday. Mom came home early that afternoon and went straight up to bed for a nap. Dad hauled the living room TV upstairs to their bedroom, grunting and heaving all the way.
“What are we supposed to watch?” Aaron asked as Dad unhooked everything.
“You can watch whatever your mother’s watching,” he replied. “It wouldn’t hurt you to spend some time with her anyway.”
I didn’t mind that the TV was gone. Mom required a lot of Dad’s attention during the last month of her pregnancy, and because Aaron spent most of his time at work it fell to me to run the house. The fact that it was Christmas only made it worse. In addition to all of the laundry to do and meals to cook and dishes to clean, I had to decorate the house and buy and wrap gifts and plan the holiday. Fortunately one of my best friends was an able-bodied young man, and he volunteered to hang lights along the eaves for me.
If I didn’t know how to cook before that December, I certainly did afterwards. Every night I ran up and down those stairs at least ten times, getting directions and advice from Mom on how to brown chicken or how long to bake a tuna casserole. I think I lost about ten pounds on those stupid stairs.
Mom was set up to go the doctor every week. “She says we’re still doing all right,” Mom announced as Dad helped her back up the stairs after one such a visit. “No delivery yet!”