Rescued Hearts

by Angela Nicole

  My name again. Is that my father? It can’t be.

  “Mac, come on son. Open your eyes for me. I have pictures of Shane to show you. Open your eyes.”

  It is my father. Shane? I can see Shane? He was born? Open your Goddamn eyes, I will myself.

  Little by little I can start to see bright lights. My eyelids keep closing the second I open them.

  “That’s right Mac. Open your eyes so you can see your little boy.”

  A little more light, my throat. Loud beeping. Focus.

  “Hey son, you are doing great. Don’t fight the ventilator, as soon as you wake up more, the doctors are going to take you off it.”

  I need to get this fucking thing out of my throat. Focus Mac.

  I can make out the outline of what I think is my Dad, but the lights hurt my eyes. I try to speak but can’t.

  I hear another voice, not my father’s. He tells me that they are going to remove the tube in my throat and to try and relax. Shit. I have seen this done in my job, but damn it hurts.

  I feel pressure and tugging and then my father comes into focus. He looks like shit, but I can imagine that I must look worse.

  “Ok, Mac. I am Dr. Vincent, you are in Germany being treated for a gunshot wound to your leg. If you understand, either give me a thumbs up or blink. I can do both, but instead I try to speak.

  “The tube is out but don’t try to talk just yet,” he offers.

  I give him two thumbs up. He nods in affirmation and asks my Dad to step out so that he can examine me. My Dad gives me a tight smile and leaves the room.

  I am trying to remember what happened, but I can’t. The last thing in my mind is fast roping out of our helicopter in Libya, then nothing until now.

  The doctor and two nurses poke and prod me. The doctor does the normal eye, heart, throat checks and then moves down to my leg which is the one I assume took the bullet.

  He says to me that everything looks good and normal. Great. When the hell and I am getting out of here and back to work?

  “I am going to get your father, and I will be back Sean,” he says with a look that I interpret as sympathy.

  That look says that there is more to tell me.

  My heart is in my throat waiting to hear from Patrick. I’m doing all I can to stay calm. I pick up my journal and curl up on the couch. I’ve been writing a little each night about the day’s events. I want Mac to be able to read about the events surrounding Shane’s life. It has become a therapy session for me, but I can’t wait until I can stop writing in it because it’ll mean that Mac is home with us.

  Until then, I write about the progress that Shane is making.

  It’s a little after six in the evening and I just returned from the hospital. I would love to have a glass of wine but that will have to wait until and if Shane goes on formula.

  I’m just getting comfortable and the doorbell rings. It scares the crap out of me because I’m not expecting anyone.

  I rush to the door hoping it is someone with news about Mac. When I open it I try hard to hide my disappointment.

  “Hi Emily, I hope I am not disturbing you.”

  It’s my customer who is now my neighbor, Nicole. I sold her a house down the street from me a few months ago. She moved here from Upstate New York for a teaching job at our local elementary school. She is a sweet person and I am actually happy to see her.

  “Hi Nicole, of course you are not disturbing me. Please come in.”

  “I brought you a key lime pie from the bakery around the corner. I remember you said it was your favorite.”

  “It sure is, and I would love if it you’d join me. I will put on some coffee.” I think this is just the distraction I need.

  We sit at the kitchen table and I fill her in on the events of the last few weeks. She talks about getting situated here and planning for the start of the next school year. She is currently a long-term substitute but has been offered a contract for a kindergarten teaching position starting next August.

  We bond over coffee and pie, talk about the upcoming holidays, and promise to make plans to do something together soon.

  The next morning, I am up early. I made breakfast, showered and dressed all before 8:00. I start to pack a bag to take to the hospital when my phone rings. I look at the caller id and it is Patrick.

  I answer, not even saying hello. “Patrick how is Mac?”

  Devastation. I am devastated that I have lost part of my leg. Devastated that I will no longer be able to do my job and devastated that I am no longer the man who can take care of a wife and child.

  Anger. I am angry that I did not protect myself better, angry that I was unable to finish my job, and angry that I just treated my father like shit, but most of all I am angry that I doubt myself.

  Lost. I am lost without my family.

  Devastation. I am devastated that Mac has been hurt and has lost his leg.

  Anger. I am angry that he told Patrick that he won’t speak to me yet and that I need to give him some time.

  Lost. I am lost without him

  I need to hold my son. Right now, he is my lifeline because his stubborn ass of a father will not talk to me. Patrick said that Mac kicked him out of his room after he heard the news. He wouldn’t even look at a picture of Shane. He told his father that he would not be of any use to me and his son now.

  I will never pretend to understand what Mac is feeling and dealing with, but I’ll be damn sure he isn’t alone. I’ll give him some time to be angry and pissed and hope that someday soon he will realize that losing part of his leg doesn’t make him damaged to me and Shane.

  I arrive at the hospital to see Shane. He has gained some good weight in the last few days. The doctor said that she is happy with his progress and that they will start to lower his oxygen so that he will be able to breathe more on his own. If all goes well he should be home before Christmas.

  When she mentions Christmas, I immediately think about Mac being in the hospital all alone over the holidays. He should be home with us or we should be there with him. Trying to figure out the timing I realize that even if Mac is back in the States, I can’t take Shane to him yet. He will still be too young.

  A few days pass and I try to busy myself. I have not heard from Patrick again, so I assume Mac has not changed his mind about talking with me. I am cleaning the house and getting it ready for the holidays when my phone rings and it’s a number I don’t recognize.

  I hesitate to answer at first, but I do it anyway.

  “Hello?” I ask with no response other than someone breathing. “Hello? Mac is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he says, and I burst into sobs.

  I can’t even speak because I am crying so hard.

  “Emily, listen to me.”

  I interrupt him, “Mac, I love you so much, I need…”

  He interrupts me right back.

  “Emily, I can’t talk for long.”

  “Ok, I’m sorry.” I’m trying to calm down but it is so difficult.

  “First, I want to tell you how proud I am of you for delivering Shane the way you did. I’m sorry that my situation caused you so much stress that it put you both in danger.”

  I try to tell him not to worry about us, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

  “Second, I’m sending my father home. He needs to help you with Shane more than he needs to be here with me. He isn’t happy about it, but I need to do this on my own. Emily, I can’t make any promises to you about a future. I can’t predict how this will all turn out for me so please, don’t wait for me to get better. It’s your job now to take care of Shane and be the great mother I know you are. He’s a lucky little guy to have you as his Mommy. I will always love you both but please concentrate on him.”

  I can tell that he is about to hang up.

  “Mac, wait. Don’t hang up yet. I love you so much, please don’t give up on us because of this. I can help you. I want to help you. Please let me come and see you…”

  “Absolut
ely not. I don’t want you to see me like this. You have to listen to me now. Take care of Shane. He needs you more than I do right now.”

  Mac hangs up. That stubborn ass hung up on me.

  I am shocked. I stare at the phone when all I really want to do is smash it against the wall. I can’t believe he just did that to me. I’m trying to give him the space and patience that I know he needs but give me a break.

  Now I am pissed.

  I am not a martyr, but I know that if I’m not an asshole to Emily she will hang on and wait for me to get better. She needs to focus on getting Shane out of the hospital and home with her. Letting out a sigh, I turn the phone off so she can’t call me back.

  My Dad has been sitting here the whole time. I wanted to make sure that we are on the same page when it comes to Emily and his grandson.

  “You are an asshole,” my Dad says to me. “I never took you as the type to feel sorry for yourself, let alone treat Emily like that.”

  “Dad, you know I love her with everything I am, but you also know that she’ll focus on me and my recovery to her detriment. She needs to take care of Shane; I need to take care of myself and get to the best possible place I can if I am going to be in my son’s life.”

  “What about Emily’s life? She is your fiancé right, because what I just heard you say made it sound like you could never marry her. Is that how you feel because you lost part of your leg? Do you think that she gives a shit about that? Because if you do, then you don’t know her like you think you do.”

  Fuck.

  “I just need to focus on trying to walk again. Emily will be ok. She is a strong woman and with you and Frank by her side, she will get along just fine.” I don’t know if I am trying to convince him or myself that this is for the best, but I don’t have a choice right now.

  The doctor says I will be flying back to the States in a few weeks or so. I want to go home and see Emily and meet my son, but I have a lot of work to do before that.

  “I hope you know what you are doing son. Don’t push her away too hard or you may never get her back.”

  I guess that is a risk I have to take. A pissed off Emily is a motivated Emily, a sad Emily always focuses on a fix and right now she can’t do anything to fix me.

  The next few weeks are going to be rough. I have seen this happen before to some of my buddies. I have to wrap my head around how this is going to affect my life going forward. If I am going home to Emily, I need to work as hard as I can during my inpatient therapy.

  I talk with my trauma counselor about the how I am feeling. I have to remind myself that this isn’t the end of my life, but I have a long road ahead of me.

  My father goes back to the hotel to pack up his stuff. He is flying back home tomorrow. I will be ready to head out to D.C. soon. I need to physically heal a little more, but emotionally, that will take a long time.

  Each day is a struggle without talking to Mac. His father came home late last night so I am heading over to the bar to see him after I go feed Shane.

  Shane is gaining weight like crazy. He is off the oxygen support now and should be able to come home soon. This is what is keeping me sane, the thought of my son being home.

  Arriving at the hospital, I am greeted by Shane’s neonatal nurse. She tells me that he is just over five pounds now, breathing on his own, and eating like he should. My first instinct is to call Mac and let him know, but I can’t.

  After feeding and rocking Shane to sleep, I go to MacAlister’s to get an update from Patrick. When I walk in, he is sitting in the corner booth. I have always loved this bar, it isn’t what you would expect from an Irish Pub, it is industrial looking instead of the traditional wooden fixtures.

  Patrick sees me and smiles, but I can see that he is hesitant about it. He stands to greet me with a hug and kiss. “Hi sweetheart. How’s my grandson?”

  “Shane is doing great; he is ahead of schedule and should be home soon.”

  “I knew he would be. He is a tough little guy.”

  My impatience gets the best of me and I face the elephant in the room head on. “Patrick how is my stubborn ass of a fiancé?” I ask in my best pissed of voice. I am trying to stay pissed and not feel sorry for Mac because I know that is the last thing that he would want from me.

  “Well, he is stubborn and that is what is going to get him through this. His surgery went well. He is healing but having a lot of pain in his residual limb, phantom pains and all. He says that he can feel pain in his toes even though he doesn’t have any.”

  I sense the tears welling up in the back of my eyes. Patrick must see it because he grabs my hand. “Hey, I know what happened to Mac is upsetting. Believe me, as a father, I have cried myself to sleep many nights over this. We just need to give him some time and patience. I think he is a little bit of denial, not about what is in front of him rehab wise, but about just how much he is going to need his family.”

  “I want to go see him when he gets to D.C. I know that he doesn’t want me there but right now I need to see him for me. Maybe I am selfish, but I know that if he were in my position, he would not take no for answer.”

  Patrick chuckles, “Yeah, you are right about that. He is hard headed and stubborn, and those two traits will be what gets him through this. I get that you want to see him, maybe between the two us we can get up there soon.”

  “I think I can probably fly up for an overnight visit. I can’t take Shane and I don’t want to leave him for long. Chrissy and Daniel said that they would watch him for me if I wanted to go up. I would love to take the baby; I think it would help Mac, but it is too risky for infant his age.”

  Patrick grabs my hand, “We will play it by ear and see how it goes. Now, I want to see my grandson, so I am off to the hospital.”

  He stands, starts to walk away but then turns to me, “I am so proud of you, and I know Mac is too no matter how much he tries to push you away, don’t let him.”

  I smile and nod, deep down hoping that I can be as patient as Mac needs me to be.

  Two weeks have passed, and it is the day that Shane comes home. Coincidently, it is the same day that his father comes back to the U.S. We are one step closer to being together, all three of us.

  I show up to the hospital, and my Dad and Patrick are there already.

  I kiss my them hello, “How’s my son doing this morning?”

  “Perfect, he seems anxious to go home with his Mommy,” the nurse says from behind me.

  “Great because I am ready to get him home where he belongs.”

  The nurse gets Shane’s discharge papers, gives me his instructions and goes into the nursey to get him ready. I would be lying if I didn’t say that I am scared to do this alone. I know I have the support of those around me, but when it comes down to it, right now I am a single mom. I try to put my feelings of sadness out of my mind because I know that Mac would be here if he could.

  Thinking about how much I miss and need him, makes my heart physically hurt.

  As I watch through the window as the nurse gets Shane ready, I hear Patrick’s phone ring. He glances at the caller id and hands me the phone. God, I love this man.

  My heart is in my throat, but I answer it anyway.

  “Hi Mac,” I say hoping he doesn’t hang up on me.

  There is a moment of dead air, it feels like hours, but I am sure it is just seconds, and then he finally answers.

  “Emily, I, um, wasn’t expecting you to answer. How are you? How’s Shane?” He asks.

  I start to cry just at the sound of his voice, but I manage to get an answer out, “I am so much better now that I am talking to you. I miss you so much it is unbearable. The only thing keeping me sane is our son.” I hiccup into the phone, “We are all at the hospital waiting for Shane to be released. How are you doing, are you back home?” I ramble on afraid that if I stop talking he will hang up the phone.

  Again, there is silence, but I think I hear him try to stifle a throaty sob, shit. The last thing I wanted to do was upset
him.

  “Mac, I love you and your son and I are here for you.”

  It is quiet again for a moment and then he finally speaks, and what he says shatters my heart into a billion pieces. “I am here in D.C., but I won’t consider myself home until I am with you and Shane.”

  I know I sound desperate, but I don’t care. He is the love of my life, and I am not going to let him hide himself away while he gets stronger. “You need to let me come and see you, please. What would you do if you were in my shoes? Would you be able to stay away?”

  “You know I couldn’t do that Emily, but you have to understand that I need time to get myself in a better mental and physical state before I can be any good for you and Shane.”

  “Bullshit Sean MacAlister. Do you love me? You tell me right now because if you do then you must know that it doesn’t matter that we haven’t taken any vows yet. I love you for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or health until death do us part and last time I checked you did not fucking die!”

  Wow. That felt good to get that off my chest.

  I can hear Mac let out a sigh, “Of course I love you. That has not changed but you have to understand that I have changed, and I will never be the same man again.”

  I shake my head as if he can see me through the phone. I wish I would be with him right now, so I could hold him and tell him that Shane and I aren’t going anywhere no matter what he can or can’t do or how he looks.

  I feel as though I am being selfish by pushing to see Mac, but he shouldn’t be going through this alone. Not when he has me and Shane.

  “Emily, are you still there? I have to get off the phone soon because I need to get settled with the physical therapist early tomorrow morning. I suppose telling you not to worry about me will not mean anything but I mean it. I need you to focus on Shane.”

  I am not going to fight him anymore. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.