by Iris Parker
The same evening, he’d suggested—no, insisted—no, demanded—that I spend the night in a luxurious hotel nearby. I’d blanched at the expense of it, but he was adamant about paying. And somehow he’d known that it would do wonders to revitalize me, from the expert masseuse services to the ridiculously comfortable bed I’d collapsed on top of. I’d woken up the next day feeling more refreshed than I could remember, and Ezra spent the whole morning telling me about his friends’ plans for what they’d do when he got out.
And for the first time in a long, long while, I was seriously letting myself trust that maybe he really would get to follow those plans. My heart pounded and a fresh batch of tears welled up in my eyes, and I wondered just what Dr. Flint was in there talking to Ezra about for such a long time.
“It's going to be okay,” Alton said, still half massaging my shoulder with his hand. I didn’t know how he always stayed so calm, but I was glad he could.
I was beginning to understand just how he had gotten such a reputation for being a womanizing bad boy. It was so easy to mistake his boyish attitude for brazenness or immaturity, but nothing could’ve been further from the truth. There was nothing childish about the man who’d watched over me like a hawk, demanding that I make time to take care of myself when it was the last thing I wanted to do. But having three people to watch over Ezra made it possible, and I was even able to write a few freelance articles online.
The external door opened, and Alton’s hand shot back to his lap as my mother came back with the coffee and herbal tea she’d promised. She passed the drinks around, asking us to fill her in on any news she’d missed while gone.
That was a quick conversation, since there was no news. We’d been waiting for a long time now, but nothing had actually happened. At least nothing outside of Ezra’s protective bubble, that is.
I had no idea how he managed it, but somehow Alton visited regularly despite his busy schedule with the Boston Bruins. Even on days like this one, where we were just sitting and waiting, he still showed up without fail. I was incredibly grateful for his presence, both because of the strength it gave me and also because it took a little of the pressure off me. My finances were getting increasingly dire, and every minute I could spare on freelancing work helped delay the impending catastrophe.
For whatever reason, WBSX had offered me a generous severance package. Maybe they were afraid I’d accuse them of firing me over the pregnancy, or maybe they just felt bad for dropping me in the middle of a crisis. Whatever the reason, it had helped. But not enough, not when my already-ruinous medical costs became even worse as I now needed to pay the entirety of my insurance costs alone. Maybe one day I would write a scathing opinion piece about getting fired while pregnant and caring for a sick child.
One day.
But not today. I still couldn’t afford to think about the future, still needed to focus on making it hour by hour. I took a sip of the herbal tea, waiting and hoping for good news at last.
When Dr. Flint finally made a move to leave the sterile room, all three of us stood up in unison. My head started spinning a little, but I ignored the sudden dizziness and I waited, my eyes wide as Dr. Flint opened the door with a vibrant smile.
With his own small smile of unexpected triumph, Ezra followed behind, his face covered with a breathing mask.
I wanted to shout with joy, but instead, I rushed straight to my son to give him a giant hug. My protective instincts kicked in just in time, though, and I stopped before getting too close. With a glance to Dr. Flint, I waited for confirmation that it was okay.
He gave a misty-eyed approval, and Ezra flew into my arms. Being able to feel him again was like nothing else in the world, and before I knew it tears were streaming down my face.
We had been so close to losing him.
“Understand that I can’t actually say the word you want to hear,” Dr. Flint said softly. “Because procedure dictates that we double- and triple- check everything. But please know that we are on the right track, and he is getting better.”
In the past three years, I’d gone from hopeful to resigned more times than I could count, before my heart had finally settled on numbing itself almost to the point of giving up. But at that very second, holding the scrawny limbs of my recovering son in my arms, all the feeling finally came rushing back. It was a moment that had been a long time coming, and I didn’t have the strength to hold it back for even one second longer.
With a sob, years’ worth of repressed emotions finally came flooding out.
Alton
I barely knew them.
And yet that didn’t seem to matter at all. Whether it was a few months or a few decades, the end result was the same. I had become part of their lives, and my own life could cleanly be divided into the time before and after I’d met them.
Before, I’d been a superficial asshole.
After, I was the father to a dying child.
And now that child was making a full recovery. Dr. Flint’s words were earth-shattering, but I could barely hear them over the sound of my own excitement. Jessie was holding Ezra tight in her arms, and I’d never known such joy and elation. Not my first time with a woman, not when I got drafted into the NHL, and not when I got the first paycheck that took me out of poverty.
But this was on a completely different level. The life of a child, spared, and a family bond that remained unbroken. There was nothing that could ever beat this feeling, the sense of pride and accomplishment and relief in my heart.
At least until I noticed the slight tremble in Jessie’s arms, the lack of coordination in her movements. Before I had time to react, she’d crumpled to the floor like a sack of flour.
“Oh God!” Jessie’s mother cried as I rushed to help. Ezra was still standing next to his mother, petrified, tears welling up in his eyes.
“Please, take him with you,” I directed as I rushed to Jessie’s side and Dr. Flint called for help. A moment later two nurses appeared and quickly helped her onto a stretcher, wheeling her straight to the ER. I followed closely behind, heart pounding hard in my chest.
“Probably just exhaustion, you know,” Dr. Flint explained as he walked alongside me. “She’s not the first parent to collapse in front of me. You can’t run on adrenaline forever. She needs to take better care of herself, Alton. Now more than ever. I’m counting on you to help her see that.”
I nodded and followed the rolling bed up and down corridors and elevators until we'd reached the emergency room, where they immediately complained that adults didn’t belong in the Children’s Hospital. I wanted to yell at everyone to get their acts together, but Jessie chose that moment to finally come to. Relieved and anxious, I couldn’t help but pepper her with questions even though she was clearly out of it.
“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
A couple of groans were all that managed to come out of her mouth.
“You scared the bejesus out of me,” I said as I reached for her hands and wrapped my fingers around hers. “Has this happened before?”
“Has what happened before?” Jessie asked, her voice gruff and uncertain.
“You passed out.”
“Ezra….”
“He’s with your mom,” I explained. “He’d just gotten out of isolation when it happened. Do you remember anything?”
Jessie thought for a second, her face pale and ghostly. Finally she gave a hesitant nod, and my heart tugged to see just how fragile and tired she still looked. How could I have let this happen?
It took a transfer to Boston General Hospital and the better part of two hours before Jessie finally received a clean bill of health, although it seemed like my presence there wasn’t doing her any favors. Several doctors and nurses had done double-takes when they recognized me, slowing down the whole process and making me grit my teeth in irritation so often that my jaw was sore.
Boston Children’s Hospital had practically been my second home for months now, and I felt relatively sheltered in the oncology d
epartment where everyone knew me. Now, however, I could feel prying eyes all around me. I knew it would only be a matter of time before another patient recognized me, letting the cat out of the bag.
Or worse, until someone tipped off the media that I’d brought a pregnant woman to the hospital.
I suddenly felt very uncomfortable, remembering the circus that had sprung up around Helena when the reporters caught wind of Dominick’s paternity. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Jessie’s status as a fellow reporter would somehow shelter her from that. If anything, her former job would only make the attention that much worse—particularly once some clever asshole connected the dots enough to realize that her pregnancy lined up perfectly with the ten thousand dollar bid during the charity auction.
I shuddered, imagining just how much crap might be coming Jessie’s way if we weren’t careful. My arms, legs, and head all felt very heavy, fatigue overtaking me. Jessie wasn’t the only one who was exhausted; the last few months had been a roller coaster of emotion that I’d had to ride out even as we finished out the season.
“Ms. Wilson?” I looked up and recognized one of the doctors from earlier, someone who’d checked Jessie out after her collapse. I took the opportunity to invite myself into the conversation, listening carefully.
“It would be easy to just write this off as a fainting spell, brought on by the overload of emotions,” the doctor started off, and I saw Jessie’s eyes dart to mine. She blanched even more, and I grabbed her hand and squeezed her palm as we waited for the inevitable but.
“But there’s more to it than that. Your blood results are back. You’re severely anemic, and low on several nutrients. Magnesium, vitamin D…actually, it’s probably easier to list what you aren’t low on. I understand the circumstances you’re going through,” the doctor continued, giving me a glance that fell somewhere between concerned and disapproving. “But something has to change. You need rest, lots of it, and either a more varied diet or at least supplements.”
“Could there be consequences?” My heart skittered in my chest at the idea that there could be complications—for either Jessie or our daughter.
Both thoughts were horrifying.
“Pregnancy is never easy, of course. Going through it when you’re already sickly and struggling could lead to more problems, yes.”
The irony was not lost on me that, while we were so focused on Ezra’s recovery, we’d lost sight of something just as important. Jessie’s own health was deteriorating, and I felt like a damned fool for not working harder to stop it.
“How's—how's the baby?” Jessie's voice sounded hollow, and her frail hand ran over her belly in a way I'd never seen it. It was a sweet, soft gesture, a motherly touch that reached out for the baby.
“She'll be fine,” the doctor said, and I let out a small sigh of relief. At least we had that, even if the situation wasn’t ideal. The doctor again chided Jessie for not taking better care of herself while pregnant, concluding by saying that she should stay in for overnight observation.
“What? That’s impossible! My son…,” Jessie protested, her voice trailing off as tears began rolling down her cheeks. It was an impossible situation, I knew, and it was no wonder that she’d struggled so hard with managing it.
“He will be okay, Jessie. He’s being released, remember?” I explained, recalling the phone conversation I’d had with Jessie’s mother where we updated each other. The recommendations had been clear—Jessie’s apartment needed a deep clean, particularly in Ezra’s bedroom, and he should avoid going out in public for a while. Other than that and the need for frequent checkups until he stabilized, Ezra was finally free to go.
“Yes, he’s getting out, and I need to be there when he does,” Jessie pleaded with me. My chest felt tight and claustrophobic with pent-up worry at the thought of Jessie not staying for observation, but I could also understand just how important it was for both mother and son to be together after Ezra finally left the hospital. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to be by his side for such a momentous step, not after such a long and nightmarish journey.
I thought about it while the doctor typed a few notes in Jessie’s file. The truth was that there was no way Jessie could—or would—just ignore Ezra and take any me time while her son still needed her badly. But she was also pregnant, and so that time wasn’t just for her benefit alone. It seemed like there was no solution, at least not one that I could think of in the middle of a busy hospital that was filled with people who could potentially spark an entirely new crisis. All it would take was the wrong person seeing us together, and the situation could suddenly get that much worse.
What we really needed was privacy.
Not to mention peace and quiet.
And if we had a couple more people to take care of mundane things like cooking, so much the better.
When I put it that way, the answer seemed so obvious that I could hardly believe I’d missed it.
“Seneca Falls!” I exclaimed to Jessie, trying hard to contain my excitement enough to keep my voice down.
“Seneca Falls?”
“Yes! It’s perfect,” I said, only picking up on Jessie’s confused expression a moment later. After spending so much time together under intense circumstances, it was easy to forget that Jessie couldn’t possibly know every mundane detail of my life before meeting her. “I’ve got a house near there, in Upstate New York. It’s very secluded, on twenty thousand acres. It’s got everything you need to relax, from a lake to a swing couch to a couple of caretakers who make the best food. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea at all,” Jessie whispered back, her eyes widening at the suggestion.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t think it’d be very responsible for me to go gallivanting off to New York in the middle of a crisis. A lot of things get in the way. Ezra’s checkups, work….”
“That’s two things,” I pointed out. “And it’s not the middle of a crisis anymore. Now it’s just a matter of getting back on your feet. Your mom has been great, but she could use a break too. Why not take advantage of having actual hired help to give you a break?”
“I just said. Work and the checkups. Those are good reasons, aren’t they?”
“What work? WBSX let you go months ago, Jessie,” I reminded her as I sat on the corner of the bed. I was ready to fight tooth and nail, anything to convince her that it really was okay to relax a bit—especially when multiple doctors kept ordering her to do exactly that. “And you can freelance from anywhere. Admit it, this is a great idea. You can spend the entire summer there healing.”
Jessie blushed, her eyes misty at the mention of WBSX. I still wanted to go down to the station and give them a piece of my mind for abandoning her like that, but ultimately it didn’t matter that much since I had no intention of abandoning her.
“All expenses paid,” I added, hoping it wouldn’t sound bad. “And there’s plenty of room for everyone. You’ll have your own bedroom, so will Ezra. And like I said, home cooked meals every night. We can take walks around the lake, have barbecues, go fishing, anything. You’ll love it,” I explained, trying hard to sell her on the idea. It really was the perfect solution—I could look after her, Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton could handle the cooking and cleaning, and we could stay there until she felt better.
Or until she gave birth.
Or until Ezra was back to full health. Yeah, that sounded best. Once it was time for them to leave, well…actually, no point in worrying about that now. We’d figure something out later, I was sure.
“What about Ezra’s checkups?”
“They do have doctors in New York, you know,” I said. “Great ones. Or if you don’t trust anyone outside of Boston, I could just fly us back here every so often.”
“Ezra’s not supposed to go out in public, remember?” Jessie asked, the ghost of a smile that had been forming dashed at the thought. “I can’t think of anything worse for him than an airplane full of sick pass
engers.”
“Who said anything about other passengers?” I asked. “Or a plane, for that matter. A helicopter could make the trip in just a couple of hours.”
“You can’t be serious,” Jessie sputtered. “Even you can’t pull something like that. Not as often as Ezra would need it, anyway.”
“I’ve been in the NHL for over ten years, and I’ve been investing my money since day one. Have you ever heard of a thing called compound interest?” I asked, and the look on her face was priceless. My degree in business school had more than paid for itself, that was for sure.
“I’m sure New York has excellent hospitals,” Jessie said, slowly giving up ground. As she approached the decision to let me help, her stiff posture was already beginning to soften. “How long could we stay?”
“As long as you need or want,” I explained. “I go there every summer, and besides, it’s maintained year-round.”
Jessie’s nod was almost imperceptible, teary-eyed from relief as she finally accepted the help she desperately needed.
Five minutes later I was off, organizing a flight all the way from Boston to Fennel Road Farm in Seneca Falls, New York.
Jessie
The helicopter’s blades rotated faster and faster, mesmerizing Ezra as they picked up enough speed to lift the giant machine into the sky. Safely tucked away in the car that Alton had arranged to pick us up, the intense gusts of wind were harmless. Watching a helicopter take off is an impressive sight, and Ezra’s eyes were wide as saucers as it finally took to the air.
The car revved up as the helicopter flew away, and a cuddle-deprived Ezra snuggled in my arms. I smiled, thankful that Alton had given Ezra the chance to watch before leaving. But who was I kidding, really? The truth was that I had far more than that to thank Alton for.
It was a list that began with saved my son’s life and seemed to get bigger with each passing hour—the helicopter ride, his generosity in allowing us to stay with him, even the chauffeur-driven car he’d rented to take us from the landing pad to his place an hour outside of Seneca Falls. Any one of those things would’ve been huge on its own, but now that Ezra was safe I found myself most grateful for something else entirely.