by RP Fischer
I smile at her and lightly nod. Charlie offers to clean up everything even though she cooked most of it while we get ready.
There is nothing these two wouldn’t do for the other. Charlie leaves the same time we do so that she can go to Rose’s Corner and open up.
The drive over to the cemetery is quiet and short. I never let go of Kylie’s hand the entire way, only briefly to get out of the car and help her down from my truck. Walking through the cemetery is solemn, and I can’t quite figure out which way her mind is going because her mask is back in place.
I have a feeling she’ll crumble when we get to Bryce’s plot, but I will be there if and when she does. Seeing his name on the headstone drops a pit into my stomach. The last time I was here was when I told him Kylie admitted to loving me back. I hold her while tears start to fall. When her knees begin to shake, I sit us down next to his headstone like we always do.
Her voice is hoarse from her nightmare last night, but I can still make out what she says.
“I can’t do this anymore, Bryce. I can’t keep fighting these demons. Every night I go to sleep wondering if the nightmares will ever stop. Sleep-filled nights are harder than most because I love you so much and miss you more than anything. I love you, and yet I hate you for leaving me. I blame myself for not jumping out of the way sooner, I blame you for dying, and I blame Billy Mason for absolutely everything. Am I bad a person for hoping that he stays in jail suffering for what he did? I don’t care if he says he’s sorry. You’re still not here, and I HATE it.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and I wrap my arms around her tighter. My tears down my cheeks watching her be calm yet so vocal at the same time.
“I can’t change that you’re not here, but I can change my anger. It has to stop, one way or the other. I may hate that you’re not here, but it’s slowly killing me too, and I know you’d be angry with me for that. Mom and Dad have made peace with everything, and it’s high time I find a way.”
She looks up at me, tear-stricken eyes that kill me to my core, but also hold something neither of us have probably seen in a long time.
Hope.
Hope for the future without anything holding us back.
She cups my cheek, love pouring from her hand into my entire body. Instead of speaking to the headstone, she looks directly at me when she speaks. “Our future began long before he left, and we will continue to keep fighting for the best future we can have. I love you, Aaron Hanston. Whatever nightmares I face, I know I have you to wake up to. Thank you for loving me even when I fought against it. Thank you for believing in us even when I felt I had nothing to believe in.”
A week has come and gone since finding out about Billy’s parole hearing. I already know I want to make a statement, and my whole family supports my decision.
It’s simple.
“I don’t care what happens to him as long as he stays away from me and my family.”
He’s sent letters about how sorry he is, but it doesn’t change anything. Bryce is still gone, and I’m at peace with that. My work is more important, and my family is definitely more important.
My grief counselor says everyone handles these situations differently. She’s helped ease my guilt and even ease Aaron’s, but she says I have absolutely no obligation whatsoever to forgive Billy. I’ll never be truly healed, but whatever steps I take, she will help me work through them.
With the entire drama pushed to the back of my mind, I prepare myself for another day of work. Whatever happens after the outcome of his parole hearing will no longer stop me from moving forward with my life.
Right now, there are little babies who need me more than the thoughts of Billy Mason.
EMTs just brought in a girl who got in a car accident traveling through Aiken, and she’s thirty weeks pregnant. The shock from the accident sent her into early labor. They mentioned she had needle tracks on both arms, and that means we have to do toxicology scans on both her and the baby.
Especially the baby.
I am at the ready when the doctor performs the Cesarean section to take the baby down for its testing. The mother was unconscious when she was brought in, so we had to make the choice to save her baby.
The little cries of the baby scream throughout the operating room. The OB quietly tells the rest of the staff, “It’s a boy. Let’s get him taken care of ASAP, nurses. I’ll finish up here and come check the test results when they arrive.”
The little boy given to me to put in his incubator is one of the most precious humans I have laid eyes on. He immediately quiets down in my arms ,and my heart swells. Usually, in my line of work, that can be worrisome, but his little chest is still moving on its own, and he’s whimpering.
He’s so adorable.
Something inside of me tells me that I’m meant to be in this little baby’s life in some way. I’m just not sure how yet.
A few hours after the baby is born, most of the blood results have come back negative for any drugs in his system. The mother was driving through Aiken on her way to Florida, and another driver didn’t brake in time when the speed limit slowed in Aiken, hitting her hard in the trunk.
The mother, Sierra Hill, suffered some slight bruising on her chest and abdomen from the seat belt. She also had a nasty concussion, but luckily, no broken bones. She woke up and the first thing she told us was that there’s a social worker we should talk to when it came to the baby.
The social worker is set to come any minute to go over a few things.
I’m in the nursery with the precious angel when a mid-aged woman with a briefcase knocks on the door.
“Hi. I’m looking for Baby Hill. I’m Nancy Monroe, the social worker.”
I take off my gloves and spritz some sanitizer on my hands. “Hi there. I’m Kylie Hanston, the nurse on staff when he was born. I was just finishing his check up. Come in, please.”
She leaves her briefcase in one of the rocking chairs and cleans her hands with precision in the corner sink.
I chuckle lightly. “You’ve done this a time or two, haven’t you?”
She replies while drying her hands, “I handle a lot of these kinds of cases, and it helps to check on the babies myself.” She turns to me. “With the nurse’s permission of course.”
I step back from the incubator and gesture for her to stick her hands through the gloves outside the incubator. The care she gives to this baby is one of a known mother. She’s cooing to him and playing with the little hair on his head shows me that she’s one of those few social workers who don’t stay detached from their cases, and trust me, I’ve seen some who walk in with zero emotion in their eyes.
I call her out on it, “You care about your cases, don’t you?”
She pulls her hands from the gloves and adjusts her suit jacket.
“All of my children had difficult births before I adopted them. I’m not your average social worker, Nurse Hanston.”
My curiosity gets the better of me. “May I ask why you’re here? Is he being released to the state?”
“Sadly, yes. When the EMTs brought Miss Hill in and did her toxicology report, she came back positive for traces of heroin and is HIV positive. Pending further review of her situation, a judge has granted us temporary guardianship until a formal investigation is complete.”
“Have you talked to the doctor yet?”
She goes to her briefcase and pulls out a small file folder. She jots down a few notes while she’s talking to me.
“Yeah, I’ll be here over the next few weeks to keep an eye on him.”
I have to ask her, “Is there any way you could keep me updated on the legal situation with his mother? Please, it’s like I need to be with him somehow.”
She looks at me with sympathetic eyes. “There’s not much I can tell you until we find out more about his mother. I see the soft spot you have for him in your eyes. It’s the same one I felt when I met each of my kids.”
I go to the nearest desk and rip off a piece of paper and
jot down all of my information.
I hand it to her and say, “The minute you find out anything that I’m allowed to know, I want to know.”
I only have to wait a few days for Nancy to call me. Shock is the first thing to come over me and then relief. I was going crazy not knowing anything.
I told Aaron everything, and the first thing he gave me was hope. Hope that somehow I could make a difference in that little infant’s life.
He also told me something that made me love him even more if that was ever possible.
That if there’s anything he could do to help with the little boy, we could talk about it once we knew more.
Good heavens, I love that man.
I’ve been at work for about an hour and finally caught a moment to check on Baby Hill. Only a few moments go by when there’s a knock on the door.
“Hi, Nurse Mitchell.”
I turn around to see Nancy standing in the doorway.
We exchange quick pleasantries before our real conversation.
“Thank you so much for calling me, Nancy. I know you didn’t have to tell me anything, but I appreciate it more than you know.”
“There are actually a few things we can talk about. We checked the social services database. Sierra Hill signed over parental rights at the start of her third trimester. We notified her next of kin a while ago to make sure no one else would claim the baby. She was in rehab at the start of her pregnancy, but her parents’ said she left about two months ago, and they believe someone else could give her a better home.”
“But he’s their grandson.”
“Yeah, but they’re both in their sixties and have some personal issues with everything that happened. They also signed over any legal rights to him. We’re looking into possible foster families now.”
An idea forms in my head.
“Is there any way you can stay here for like half an hour? I want to call my husband and get him down here so I can talk to him. He’s off duty today, so it shouldn’t take too long.”
She looks at me perplexed for a second and then a smile stretches across her face.
“Of course, I’ll go reschedule some appointments so we can all talk.”
I take my phone out of my scrub pocket and quickly send Aaron a text.
TO: HUBBY <3
Can you come down to work, please? Nancy’s here, and I really really think we should talk to her.
His reply comes only seconds later.
FROM: HUBBY <3
On my way, babe.
When Nancy comes back into the room, I tell her he will be here any minute. I beg the head nurse to let me have a thirty-minute break once Aaron gets here. She agrees pending there are no emergencies.
Here, that could happen in the blink of an eye, so I place my pager around my neck when the sexiest sight I get to see every day comes through the elevator doors.
I get a sweet kiss that earns a “oh honey, Lord” from the head nurse.
Of course, he winks at her. Crazy man knows the effect he has on people.
I pull on his shirt like an impatient kid. He gathers me into his arms. “Hey, baby. What’s going on?”
“I told you. Nancy’s here. She said she could share information with us, but I wanted to wait until you were here. She’s still making some calls, but the baby was signed over to the state by the mom.”
He pulls me into his arms. “So he needs a foster family?”
“At least for now. Let’s just wait for Nancy.”
Not even as the words finish coming out of my mouth does Nancy come from one of the empty rooms.
“Okay, I’m all set, Kylie.” She looks up at Aaron. “The husband, I presume?”
He sticks out his hand. “Officer Aaron Hanston. Really happy to meet you.”
Shaking his hand, she returns, “Nancy Monroe, social worker for the State of South Carolina representing Baby Hill.”
Aaron places his hand on the small of my back and gestures to his right.
“Should we go to the cafeteria?”
We all walk silently to the cafeteria and find a table in the corner. Nancy repeats what she told me before I called Aaron and offers new information about the grandparents.
“They feel guilty that they couldn’t even take care of their own daughter. The fact that she has HIV had them petrified it was passed on to their grandson. He needs a good home, and they are more than willing to write a letter for anyone else who would like to fight for custody, even just to foster him.”
Aaron surprises me with his question, “What would it take for us to become foster parents?”
“Honestly, an extensive background check and letters of recommendation. The only issue I’ve heard that may hinder your chances are your work schedules. Based on the little I know about the two of you, you both sometimes work longer than twelve hours in a day and sometimes a few days in a row.”
Aaron turns to me and grabs my hand before giving his attention back to Nancy.
“I think Kylie and I are on the same page where we want to be considered. We’ll file any and all necessary paperwork to become foster parents. I promise you we will figure out the work situation.”
Nancy stands up from the table as she hears my beeper go off. Looks like my break is up.
“I’ll keep a lookout for the paperwork through my office, and I wish you guys the best of luck.”
Aaron and I are sitting down for take-out since neither of us wanted to cook.
I’m the one to start the conversation. “First things first, Aaron. Are you sure this is what you want? We can wait if you’re not ready.”
He pulls me into his lap. “I want to raise this little boy with you, Kylie Hanston. I want us to start a family.”
“So you don’t think we should have more time to ourselves, just us, before we add a baby?”
“Between our moms, we will have enough alone time because they will probably kidnap him and spoil him rotten.”
I lay my head on his shoulders. “Speaking of grandparents. That’s the second thing. THE grandparents. If we are picked, I think I would want them to know they can come visit him anytime they want even though they signed over legal rights. I want them to know that we won’t shield him from them.”
He asks, “How much longer does he have in the NICU?”
“The doctor said at least one month to make sure the mom didn’t pass on anything we might have missed. She was a big heroin user before she was pregnant and was even HIV positive. Everyone seems optimistic for the baby’s health.”
“Okay, so even if we can’t take him once he’s out of the hospital, it will give us enough time to start preparing. I want to fight for him.” He pulls me in closer, rubbing his nose along my cheek. “It will also give us plenty of time to practice for the next one.”
Things have finally settled into place for all of us. After the background check and a million recommendations from my chief, a local judge, Kylie’s boss, a dozen people at the community center, and our family, we have a lot working in our favor.
The baby is home with us and comfortable. He’s a perfect angel to our family even without a name still. We got approval to be his foster parents during the six-month waiting period. My mom, Charlie, Leigh Ann, and Bree have been godsends whenever Kylie and I try to figure out work schedules.
Which as of recently, we’ve come to a conclusion.
Kylie, my generous, sexy, sweet, kind, funny, and noble wife, has decided to figure out our scheduling by quitting her job at the hospital. I fought her on it, but she said she wanted to. With summer coming upon us, she asked my mom if she could apply to be one the summer camp nurses while she looks for jobs at a small doctor’s office or at the elementary school to cut her shifts in half.
Of course, my mother’s answer was no application necessary. We’re hoping it’ll help with our case to file for adoption.
As for the social worker, Nancy, I think back to our conversation a few weeks ago when talked to her about the baby’s biologica
l grandparents.
“They’d like that. They just didn’t want to push. We do, however, have to keep him under foster status for six months in case they do decide to change their minds and fight for custody.”
We share our concerns, “From what I’ve read, the adoption process alone does take about a year. I just hope they let us take him home even during the six month waiting period.”
“Your chances are strong. Try not to worry, guys. I have even made my own recommendation for you guys.”
Nancy’s words of faith in us helped cement the judge’s decision.
The sixth month is nearly up, and so far, the grandparents and any other family haven’t spoken up about wanting custody of the baby. They all push for a good family to adopt him, but we still didn’t pick a name just in case someone changed their minds.
I’ve come off a long shift at work, having to break up some crazy parties at the college with campus security. I just want to hold my family in my arms and take a long ass nap.
Climbing the stairs into the condo, the darkness is a shock because I thought Kylie was home today. She must be at Rose’s Corner or something.
I drop my bag and flick on the light, only to have blue streamers and confetti thrown in my face as voices scream, “SURPRISE!”
My wife comes up to me while holding the baby in her arms, and gives me a kiss. I quickly kiss her and kiss the top of the baby’s head, inhaling his little scent. He twists in Kylie’s arms and reaches his hands out for me.
I get him settled into my arms as I walk further into the living room to see a butt load of people squished in the space.
I look at Kylie. “What’s going on?”
Nancy comes from the corner, holding a file in her hands. She hands it to me. “This is your expedited adoption approval from the court. He is officially your son.”
I glance back at Kylie and around the whole room, full of my family and friends, before snuggling my new baby son in my arms. I wrap my arm around Kylie’s shoulders and speak to the group. “We would love for all of you to meet Liam Bryce Hanston.”