by Leigh Lennon
“Tyler, I …” I can’t speak because my heart is breaking right now. What do I have to do to prove that he’s better off without me?
“Ems, honey, don’t speak.”
But I have a lot to say. I’ll never be the same person I once was. I need to wring his neck and shout to the world that the Emma Hunter everyone depended on—the woman who could find a missing penny in the middle of ten thousand transactions, the woman who at one time kept an immaculate house—no longer lives within the confines of my new body.
When I watch the baby, I want to love her. I need to bond with her, but every time I think about it, I remember her being wrenched from my body as the doctor says, “We’re losing her.”
I was conscious, and I knew I was dying. I felt the blood draining from my body, and I can’t ever get that out of my mind. Shouldn’t a mother want to die for her baby? Well, all I feel is resentment.
I didn’t know Justine very well when her best friend Lorelei, a girl raised by her family, died in a tragic car accident. Yet I remember, at first, the authorities fucked up big time and told Lorelei’s husband that their daughter, Madeline, was killed, too. That was not the case, but Justine told me that Lorelei would have protected her kids with her last breath. Why can’t I feel that way about my own child?
I see the love Tyler has for her in his eyes. I gave birth to her, so why can’t I? It makes me feel like an incompetent mother, not worthy of her or Tyler’s love.
“Emma, honey. Please, you need to come back to us,” is all I hear my husband say. He means to encourage me, but this puts more pressure on my already hard situation. I can’t. I don’t know where to start.
8
Justine
Annette comes running into the emergency room with no idea what has happened to her daughter. Watching my Nick, he takes no time to rush to her. The love these two share is over Emma, and quite honestly, it’s beautiful. He has never made me feel anything but all his. Walking toward them, I attempt to be the calm in the storm even though I’m not. “Annie.” He hugs her tight at first. Once he leans back, I see they are both crying. Annette doesn’t have to be told what Emma did. One look at her face, and I know she knows.
Nick takes her by the hand and leads her to a set of seats in the ER. “Ann, Emma is going to be okay.”
In my heart, though, I wonder if my stepdaughter really is going to be okay in the long run, or if we just want her to be okay. Sure, she will survive this, thank fuck, but I know, as does Nick and Annette, that this is just the beginning for her.
By this time, Jane has found her husband. They are all near us when Annette finally asks the question we all want the answer to. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m not sure. We don’t know yet. Ty got there just in the nick of time. He’s back with her now, waiting for her to wake up,” I say.
“Did she try to hurt herself?” Jane asks. Holding tight to Kai, she’s looking around the hospital. “And where is Lila?”
Nick can’t physically say the words we all know to be true. Instead, I begin. “We don’t know what went on quite yet, Jane. All we know for sure is that she left the stove on. Lila needed to do something, so she has relieved Tyler’s mom. She and Jones are with Aspen.”
“Justine.” Annette turns to me, embracing me for a long time, and I shouldn’t be surprised when she speaks. “I’m so glad you were here. I’ll write you a check for our tickets. Thanks for taking care of that for me.”
“Absolutely not. Don’t worry about the tickets. It’s a full house, but we have plenty of room for you and Kent to stay with us, or Hildy offered her house.”
“Wow, I haven’t given any thought to where we would stay. Thanks, Justine.” Narrowing her eyes at me, she lowers her voice. “Honey, you have been through the wringer. Are you okay? I heard about Lorel.”
“She’s healthy as an ox. We are lucky to have such a sweet girl. As Rose said, this is not a death sentence, and my daughter, well, she’s embracing this.”
“Does she know about Emma yet?”
“Yes, she does. Brody has kept her updated.” This is the last thing I want Rose to worry about, but we are a big family, and this is what we do. We support the hell out of one another.
“Is Lila okay? She tries to act tough but …”
I know Lila’s type. Fuck, I am Lila’s type. “I know she does, and I think it’s good that Jones was there.”
“I don’t know him very well yet,” Annette says as if she’s willing herself to avoid the hard decisions that will arise in the next couple of days.
“Jones is a great guy. I’d never have put Lila with Jones, but I can tell you, I love that kid as if he was my own.” I turn to see the anguish painted on my sweet husband’s face, and my eyes tear up watching him. Watching his grimace and slight shake of his head, I know what he’s thinking. Nick’s going to blame himself as though he didn’t provide Emma with enough help. We all thought, myself included, that Emma was making a clear choice to ignore her baby. We are aware now it’s not that cut and dry. I know he is trying to figure out what he could have done to prevent Emma’s attempted suicide. This is my Nick, always too hard on himself.
Annette turns to Nick. “When can we see her?”
“After Tyler. He’s back with her now.”
Even after all the fucking shit that has happened to us over the years, this is my family, and I will do anything for any of them.
9
Tyler
My fingers entwine with Emma’s, and I hold them close to my cheek. I can only look at her and wonder where I went wrong. “Ems. I can’t lose you. Don’t ever do that to me again.” I know she can’t hear me. She’s still in a daze from when she first came to all while my heart is thumping. I realize I never took her seriously when she told me she wasn’t herself. This is not the Ems I married all those years ago.
I’m hit with many questions I’m not sure I want the answers to. This is my fault; what could I have done to prevent this? Does she still love me? Surely not if she tried to leave me in this way. Many more come to my mind but only one matters. How can I live without her? That is simple—I can’t. Her eyes flutter open, still in a haze with a confused expression as she takes in her surroundings. “Emma, honey, you okay?”
When she turns to me, I still don’t think she knows where she is. “Ems, honey, you gave me quite the scare. Your dad, Justine, your mom—they are about to go out of their minds if they don’t see you soon.”
She ignores me and doesn’t acknowledge that her mom jumped on a plane from two states away to be here with her. “Ems, why? Did you do this on purpose?” I know the answer to this question already.
Staring at me without really seeing me, she turns away, only to look everywhere but my face. Every time I get close, she breaks away. This is protocol for Ems. She is most silent when her mind is working overtime. Not getting her to say a word is bad, really bad. She has shut down, and when this happens, I’m lost.
“You scared me to death. I thought I had lost you.”
Her tone is muted, barely audible. “I was trying to do you and the baby a favor.”
Her first words hit me as though she has physically punched me in the gut. “By killing yourself?” I ask, horrified.
“I can’t be a mother to that girl or a wife to you anymore. Look, my own sister can be a mom to a baby she wasn’t expecting, but me? I throw a perfectly good baby away. What is wrong with me?” My anger from the past six months is gone, and it’s replaced with guilt toward myself and empathy for the wife who thought my life would be better if she ended hers.
“Ems, you need help. Emma, I can’t believe you truly want this. I mean, you think it now, but, honey, we have something special, always have.”
“No, I don’t. I need a new life, away from you and the baby so you can start over.”
“No, that is not what is good for any of us.”
“Yes, it is. Now, go away.”
I grab her hand. “Emma, I’m not giv
ing up on you that easy.”
“Too bad.” She yanks her hand away. “I’ve given up. Now, leave.”
“I’m not leaving, but I’ll sit over there. You don’t have to talk to me. But we said for better or for worse. So what if we are in the worst category right now?”
“Don’t you think I want to love that baby? Don’t you think I feel guilty that Rose has a special needs baby, and we were given perfection?”
“Ems, I’m sorry for what I said last night. We are all given different obstacles to overcome. I don’t want you to think you are a failure.”
“But I am. I’ve gotten help, and it hasn’t worked. Don’t you see that?”
“Sometimes, we have to adjust what we are doing. We will find something that works for you, I promise,” I insist, borderline begging her to see the bigger picture past her illness.
“I can’t go through this again, being away with no guarantee that something will finally heal me.” Her eyes have no luster to them. Certainly, I’ve noticed this over the months, but now, they look dead—just as she wants to be.
Stumbling back in my chair, I place my head in my hands. Looking up over the tears that now fall from me like a fucking waterfall, I see she won’t even look at my face. Standing up to move to the other side, she tries to turn her head the other direction, but I lovingly cup her face in my hands. “Ems, I could have lost you today. Your dad and your mom are beside themselves.”
“They’re here?” She wasn’t listening before. She was in her own little world, but now, she’s at least hearing something I’m saying.
“Of course, they are. Honey, your mom had just arrived when I came back. Jane is with her, and Lila flew in last night for Rose. Kent will be here tonight. Justine has been here the whole time, too.” I mention these names to give her clarity in order for her to understand how many people would be lost without her.
“I can’t see them. I’m done for now. If you aren’t going to leave, give me peace and quiet from all the fucking talking.”
“Ems, I love you.”
She turns her head and rolls her body away from me while I grab a chair and sit on the other side of her in the hopes she will open up to me shortly. I need a sliver of something to work with. If she could tell me anything that would help her, I’d make it my fucking mission in life to give it to her.
An hour later, I’m given the impossible task of telling Nick that Emma doesn’t want to see him. He stalks toward me in anticipation of his little girl’s status. When Ems finally agreed to a date after months of her telling me no, the closeness Emma had with her dad amazed me. It was almost eerie at first, but eventually, I became used to it.
I stand in front of her dad as I say, “She says doesn’t want to see anyone right now, but if you want to go back there, I won’t stop you.” Not that I could or would anyway.
“I don’t care what she wants. I need to see her,” Nick says. Annette is standing next to Nick, nodding in agreement. I had a feeling he would overrule me, and normally, I would back up my wife one hundred percent, but she has taken ten years off all our lives. Now, with Aspen as my focus in life, I’m positive my reaction would be the same as Nick’s.
“Okay, but don’t lecture her. She needs to be loved and encouraged,” I caution.
“Did she try to kill herself?” Annette asks.
I don’t meet their gaze and stare down slightly. Without looking up, I nod.
Before my mother-in-law falls over in grief, Nick grabs Annette, then says, “Oh my lord, I knew she was bad, but I never knew she was this bad. How did we miss this?”
It’s a good question, and one I keep asking myself. Nick continues, “What are we going to do? Ultimately, it’s up to you as her spouse, but we have to force her to get help.”
I take a deep breath. My father-in-law is a fixer—he always has been—but the last thing Ems needs is for him to force a plan on her. “Nick, let’s not lead with that. She’s fragile, and right now, she thinks she’s beyond help.”
Shrugging his shoulders, he takes a minute and leans against the wall. Closing his eyes, he looks as if he’s taking a cleansing breath when he finally replies. “I want to be the dad here and come in and save the day for my girl. I can’t stand to see her like this. If you need me, ask me because if I don’t intentionally back off, I’ll overstep my bounds. If you want my opinion or help, ask for it. Do you understand? I’ll be here the whole time.”
“Thanks, Nick, but honestly”—I stop to rub my neck— “I don’t even know where to start. I’ll need your help and your input.” Annette and Nick follow me into Emma’s room. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I walk toward her bed, where her back is still facing the door. “Ems, honey, your mom and dad are here.”
“Dammit, I told you I didn’t want to see anyone.” She turns farther away from her parents and me as they enter the room.
“I know that, but they needed to see you. You worried them to death.”
Annette walks around the bed to face Emma. “Emma, honey.” That is all she can say before her tears overtake her. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I feel like I have failed you by not listening fully to the signs and cries for help.”
“Mom, I shouldn’t be your concern.”
I see Annette grab on tight to the bed, Emma’s words hitting her as hard as they had with me earlier when she admitted she had tried to kill herself.
Her mother looks up with an unnatural stiffness about Annette Barron I have never seen. Taking her hand to lift Emma’s chin, Annette’s tone has become high-pitched when she asks, “How can you say this to me? I’m your mother.”
Emma turns from her mom when Nick gets into her view.
“Hey, sugar,” her dad says, rubbing her foot under the blanket with one hand.
“I’m not up for visitors right now.”
Nick laughs at her words. “Good thing we aren’t visitors.”
“Dad, I’m not up to playing your word games right now either.”
“Ems, honey, you gave us a scare,” he continues as she refuses to meet his eyes. If she were to look in their eyes, Emma would understand the horror she caused these two today.
“Dad, if you insist on staying, then can you at least let me pout in peace for my failings?”
Nick looks at me, his eyes piercing mine, and I understand he means to apologize. He’s about to say something that will go against my wishes. “Tyler, I can’t do this.” He looks back at his daughter. “Emma, I can’t bite my tongue with you anymore. You scared the shit out of us today, and all you can do is look at it as a failure. Do you know how selfish you’re being?” His anger flares when Annette grabs him.
“Cumquat,” Annette says, taking him out of the room. Years ago, he gave everyone close to him a safe word to say when his temper started to flare. Nick, being a very laid-back man, never gets upset until it’s too late. and then it gets bad, very bad. Years ago, it was decided that if Nick was about to cross the line, any of us could use the safe word, and he’d have to walk away.
I look back at Emma, unable to leave her. I failed her. These thoughts continue to rattle in my mind as I repeat these words over and over again. I had been so upset with her, having yelled at her last night and comparing her to Rose. I did this to her.
Emma looks up at me with a small wince of pain on her face. “Well, that went well.” This is the sarcasm I have grown to love in my wife. For one split second, I see an old part of her return, but then she blankly moves her gaze to stare out the window and as far away from me as she can get.
The doctor walks into the conference room, looking at each of us sitting around the large table. “I’m not used to dealing with the whole family,” he says rudely.
I quickly begin. “This is Emma’s mother, Annette Barron, her father, Nick Wallace, and his wife, Justine. As you can imagine, we are all shocked by this. I can’t do this on my own. Tough decisions have to be made, and I need help.”
“As long as we all can agre
e that Dr. Hunter makes the final decisions. First, if your wife is not going to voluntarily get the help she needs, you will need to admit her. At this point, it shouldn’t be hard to do. I always hate going that route because the patient feels anger and resentment; however, she needs mental help at this point. The insurance will only pay for so much, so you need to decide what you can afford.”
Nick quickly says, “Money is not a problem. Between her mother and I, we can take care of it.” I’m still in the process of buying into the business Nick and I own together, but Nick is fully vested in his company. Knowing they are willing to help us takes a lot of the financial burden off me.
“That will give us more options. I would suggest trying to get her voluntarily into a clinic in Los Angeles. It is, by far, the best facility. The only way to get her admitted, out of state, is if she volunteers for it.”
“How long are we talking, Doctor?” Justine asks, the only one calm enough to ask the hard questions.
“Six to eighteen months. But I’m betting a year. She didn’t get like this overnight.”
“To clarify,” I ask, “The best facility is in LA, but to cross state lines would make it tricky if I have to commit her. If she wants help and goes to LA, she could check herself out at any time?”
“Yes, Seattle has a good facility, too, but I suggest the one in LA.”
As I consider the words, I know my decision has already been made. Emma needs help — there is no question — but forcing Emma’s hand has never been productive for anyone.
“I will call Seattle and reserve the room,” Nick states, standing to leave.
“Wait, Nick. I know you are concerned, but the decision is mine. Let me think about this, for now, and I will get back to you.” Before I hear anymore unsolicited advice from my father-in-law, I stand to leave. I know my wife and forcing her may make this situation worse.