What's Left of Me

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What's Left of Me Page 25

by Kristen Granata


  Callie swallows a sob and strokes my jaw as if she’s coaxing me to continue, comforting me as I get closer to the end of my story.

  “Having a newborn was exhausting. I’d work all day, long hours. Penny’s father was my boss, and I knew he didn’t approve of me. I didn’t come from money, so I felt like I had a lot to prove. But I still wanted to help Penny with the nighttime feedings. That was my favorite time with Mia. We’d sit in the rocking chair while she drank her bottle, and I’d sing to her. Same song my mother sang to me as a child. It was a special time, no matter how tired I was.”

  My chin drops, sorrow gripping my throat. “Mia was underweight, so we had a strict feeding schedule mapped out from the doctor. We’d set our alarms and take turns throughout the night. It was my turn. I was supposed to get up with her that night. I was so tired when my alarm went off. I remember shutting it off, but I don’t know what happened after that. I must’ve fallen back to sleep. Mia wasn’t crying. And then the next thing I knew, Penny was screaming for me.”

  My body shudders, and I squeeze Callie’s hand. “It was SIDS. Happens to infants, and no one knows why. The doctor said she didn’t suffer, that she went peacefully in her sleep. He said there was nothing we could’ve done to prevent it, but I can’t help thinking that it wouldn’t have happened if I would’ve gotten up when I was supposed to. Maybe I could’ve stopped it.”

  Callie shakes her head furiously. “No, Cole. You don’t know that. You can’t beat yourself up for what might’ve been if you did this or if you did that. I know what it’s like to blame yourself for the loss of your child. I might never have held my babies in my arms, but I’ve still lost them. I’ve beaten myself up thinking there was something I did that caused it. But that’s not reality.”

  She smooths her palm down my cheek. “I’m so sorry that you lost your baby girl. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you and Penny. I wish I could take your pain away.”

  I smile, blinking through my watery vision. “You do take my pain away. You make it better. You make me better.” I tip her chin up and press my lips against hers. “You’re my angel. My second chance. The hope I stopped believing existed.”

  I kiss her again. “I visited Mia’s grave when I went to New York. I needed to feel close to her. To remember her. I think I felt that having another baby would somehow replace her, and that scared me. But I realized something. The scar from losing Mia will always be there, just like the scars from your surgery will always be on your skin. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ever heal. I can heal and take Mia’s memory with me. At the same time. You healed me, Callie. You … and this baby growing inside of you.”

  She buries her face in my shirt, muffling her cries, and I wrap my arms around her, holding us both together with our love.

  With our hope.

  Callie sniffles. “What if we lose this baby, Cole? What if the same thing keeps happening to me, and my body just can’t do it?”

  “Then we’ll apply for adoption.”

  She jerks back to look up at me. “What?”

  I nod, caressing her beautiful face. “I want to have a family with you, even if our children don’t have our DNA. They’ll have our love, and that’s the most important thing.”

  Another sob bursts from her throat, and she flings her arms around my neck. “I love you so much, Cole.”

  I grin. “And I love you.”

  My angel.

  Forever.

  Three Months Later

  Thirty-Four

  Callie

  “We have a new member joining us at group tonight. Ladies, this is Camille.”

  A chorus of hellos sound around the circle.

  Camille tucks a strand of light-brown hair behind her ear and gives us a tentative smile. “Hi, everyone.”

  The bruise under her eye is visible but fading. I’d say she got hit a little over a week ago. The deep-purple marks that line her arms, though … those are fresh.

  Melissa gestures to me. “Callie, why don’t you start tonight?”

  I nod, understanding why she’s calling on me. “Six months ago today, I left my abusive ex-husband. He’d found a journal I was writing in as an exercise for therapy, and he didn’t like what he read. He put his hands around my neck, and he strangled me. I managed to get away, and I ran out the door. Ran right in front of my neighbor’s truck in my bathrobe.”

  I laugh a soft chuckle as I look down at my protruding belly. “It’s funny how life works out. You stay in bad situations for so long, convincing yourself that it’s the right thing to do. You lie to the people you love in order to hide the truth from them, but you hide the truth from yourself too. I don’t know why. I don’t know what makes us think we deserve to be in those messed-up situations. Maybe it’s the way we were raised. Maybe we don’t have enough self-worth. Or maybe we need to go through those tough times in order to get to the good that’s coming.”

  I hike a shoulder and look straight into Camille’s eyes. “A wise, old friend once told me: Losing yourself in a relationship is never an option. I lost myself for a long time. But six months ago, I decided it was time to find myself. It wasn’t easy. It was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. But I did it anyway.”

  “How?” Camille’s voice is soft.

  Scared.

  The way mine used to sound before I found it.

  “How did you do it?” she asks.

  “I leaned on my friends. I found a job that makes me happy. I kept going to therapy. And I had hope. The most important thing to remember is that you’re not alone, Camille. You have us now. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

  Janae leans over. “I have room at my house if you need a place to stay.”

  Carrie raises her hand. “My job is hiring.”

  One by one, women chime in with ways to help our new friend.

  And that’s my favorite thing about coming to group. No matter how low you feel, no matter how scary the world seems, these incredible women keep showing up and sharing their love. It’s an incredible reminder of how powerful women can be when we support each other.

  We listen to several stories, and when group ends, I pull Jasmine to the side. I’ve been meaning to get together with her, but between doctor’s visits and running the diner, there hasn’t been much time.

  “Hey, Jasmine. Do you have a minute?”

  She smiles. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Getting hit by a car was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. It’s the day that changed my life forever. I found out that I was pregnant, and it pushed Cole to finally face his demons and start healing.”

  I clasp her hand in mine. “And now, the accident is about to change your life too.”

  Her eyes bounce between mine. “What are you talking about?”

  “The police found the man who hit me based on Cole’s description of his car. He agreed to settle if I dropped the charges, so I’ll be getting a large sum of money. I want to help you, Jasmine. You and your husband. You’ll be able to afford the adoption fee, and you can finally have the baby you’ve always wanted.”

  Jasmine covers her mouth with her trembling hand. “I couldn’t accept that kind of money, Callie.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  She shakes her head. “But what about you? Surely you could use the money for something.”

  I rub my palm over my stomach. “I already have everything I need. Plus, I’m receiving money from my divorce.”

  Paul agreed to give me everything I’m entitled to.

  “Oh, my God. I don’t know what to say, Callie.”

  “Say yes.”

  Her eyes well, and she nods. “Yes! Thank you so much. Yes!”

  I hold Jasmine while she weeps, and I cry with her. “You deserve to have what you want most in life,” I whisper.

  “So do you, Callie. And I’m so happy that you’re getting it.”

  Me too.

  The journey
was difficult, but I’d go through it all again if it meant I’d end up exactly where I am today.

  I say goodbye and head home. Our temporary home is at the pool house while our house is being built. Cole is building us a small house on the water in Lake Arrowhead with the help of Billy and some friends.

  He claims it’ll be done by the time the baby is here.

  I’m not so sure, but I don’t tell him that.

  Before I pull into Josie’s driveway, a text from Cole flashes on my screen:

  Cole: Come to Josie’s. She said she wants to show us something.

  I shake my head and grin. Probably another piece of furniture for the nursery. She is so ready to get rid of all things baby.

  Dan should really think about getting a vasectomy.

  When I arrive, I knock before walking inside.

  “Surprise!”

  My head whips around. Cole, Josie, Dan, the kids, and Gertie are huddled in the foyer. Pink and blue streamers are draped from the corners of the ceiling.

  My eyebrows press together. “Uh, guys ... what’s going on?”

  Cole snakes his arm around my waist. “We made it past the first trimester, so everyone wanted to celebrate.”

  I close my eyes as a grin pulls my lips. “You didn’t need to do all this.”

  “Of course we did.” Josie steps forward. “Every part of your journey should be celebrated.”

  Life is precious.

  “Come on. The party is out back.” Josie links her elbow with mine. “We can’t leave Maverick out there too long or else he’ll start eating his own turds.”

  I scoff. “He doesn’t do that anymore!”

  “Once a shit-eater, always a shit-eater.”

  I give her a playful shove as we step out onto the patio. Maverick charges at me but stops about a foot away. Then he gets down and army-crawls the rest of the way—something we’ve been teaching him as my stomach grows.

  “Good boy, my Mav man.” I scratch behind his ears, and he flops over, giving me his belly.

  “Callie, can we give Maverick a bath tomorrow?” Miles asks.

  “Of course.”

  “Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air and then takes off running. “Brandon, she said yes!”

  Cole grins. “The things that excite them.”

  I push to stand, something that’s getting more difficult each week. “How was therapy today?”

  He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “It went well. Had to take a nap after.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, it can be exhausting sometimes.”

  “We talked about making a worry box. Have you ever heard of something like that?”

  My head tilts. “No. What is it?”

  “You write down whatever’s on your mind. Whatever’s making you anxious, or whatever you’re scared of. Then, you fold it up and slip it into the box. It’s supposed to help get the negative thoughts out of your head, and it serves as a visual, like you’re physically putting the thought away.” He shrugs. “He said we could read it together if we wanted to. Or not.”

  I dab at the corners of my watery eyes. “I love that idea. I think we should do it.”

  Cole wraps his arms around me and pulls me in close. “Pregnancy tears again?”

  I shake my head. “I’m just so proud of you, Cole. You’ve come so far in such a short amount of time.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without you.” He leans down and presses his lips to mine. “My angel.”

  “My hope.”

  “Get a room,” Gertie barks.

  I laugh. “Way to ruin the moment, Gertie.”

  “Ah.” She waves her hand. “You’ll have another moment in two minutes.”

  Josie throws her head back and laughs. “Those hormones are really doing a number on your sex drive.”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You two can barely keep your hands off each other,” Gertie says. “You should see them at the diner. It’s unsanitary.”

  Cole tosses a wadded-up napkin at her. “You were the one who pushed us together. You only have yourself to blame.”

  “This is true. And you are giving me a great-grandbaby, so I guess it’s not all bad.”

  “We should start taking bets on the gender,” Josie says.

  Dan raises his hand. “I say girl.”

  “Boy!” Brandon and Miles shout at the same time.

  Gertie shakes her head. “Definitely a girl.”

  I lift an eyebrow at Josie. “Well? What’s your guess?”

  “You’re going to have twins. One boy and one girl.”

  I glance at Cole, who’s beaming. “You think you put twins in me?”

  “It is possible.” He brushes an imaginary speck of lint off his shoulder. “I do have super sperm, you know.”

  “Gross!” Brandon scrunches his nose.

  “What do you think, Callie?” Miles asks.

  I rub circles around my belly and shrug. “I’ll be happy with whatever comes out.”

  Girl or boy, one or two.

  Either way, I’m grateful for this miracle.

  “Oh!” I snap my fingers. “Gertie, I almost forgot. I have the paperwork from the lawyer. He wants you to look it over before everything is finalized.”

  “You’re going to be the owner of the diner?” Brandon asks.

  “Yeah, B. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Maybe I can work there when I’m old enough.”

  I wrap my arm around him and squeeze his shoulder. “You’ve got a spot waiting for you.”

  “Can he start now?” Dan asks with a chuckle.

  “Then we can start charging him rent!” Josie holds out her fist, and Dan bumps his knuckles against hers.

  Brandon buries his face in his hands. “You guys aren’t cool just because you fist bump.”

  This sends Josie into a ten-minute rant about all the reasons why she thinks she’s a cool mom.

  “I’m going to run to my car,” I whisper in Cole’s ear. “I want to get the paperwork for Gertie before I forget.”

  “Want me to grab it?” he asks.

  “I’ve got it.” I pull him in for a kiss. “Be right back.”

  After I take the file out of my car, I stop and glance across the street at the house where I once lived.

  In the life that was once mine.

  With the secrets that were my own.

  And I choose to smile, because life is all about the choices we make.

  We choose to see things one way or the other.

  We choose to accept or to hate.

  We choose to be happy or sad.

  Bitter or grateful.

  To forgive or blame.

  To hold on or let go.

  When I look back on that former life, I don’t resent it. It’s a part of me. Part of my journey. So, I carry those scars with me, and I choose to wear them like a badge of honor. Like a warrior.

  Because that’s who I am.

  That’s who I choose to be.

  Callie the Courageous.

  Epilogue

  Cole

  Five Years Later

  “From the moment you called me the landscaper, I knew that we’d be together.”

  Callie’s head tilts back and her eyes squeeze closed as a full belly laugh bursts from her throat. “You are so full of shit.”

  I grin. “Okay, maybe I didn’t know we’d be together just then. But I think I somehow knew that you were important. Special.”

  Callie’s expression softens, and she leans in to brush her lips against mine. Then she whispers, “I thought you were an asshole.”

  I give her shoulder a playful shove, and she laughs again.

  Callie’s laughter is one of my favorite sounds in the world.

  “Daddy! Daddy!”

  My son calling me Daddy is another.

  “Whoa there.” Callie intercepts Nicholas, scooping him up before he can fling himself into my arms like he often does. “Remember wha
t we talked about, little man?”

  His dark brows pull together as his steel-blue eyes roam over the small bundle in my arms. “Be careful so I don’t hurt Layla.”

  “Good job.” Callie threads her fingers through his brown curls. “Want to help feed her?”

  His eyes turn to saucers. “Yes!”

  I bite back a smile at the sound of his lisp. “Come sit next to me, and I’ll hand her to you.”

  He climbs up beside me on the couch, and Callie wedges a decorative pillow under his elbow. “You have to hold her head up.”

  “I know, I know.”

  I transfer my daughter to my son’s arms, and my heart swells with immense pride.

  My babies.

  Callie dabs at the corner of her eye as Nicholas strokes Layla’s cheek.

  “Her skin is so much darker than mines,” he says.

  I smooth my palm over the crown of Layla’s head. “It is.”

  “Why do you call her black when her skin is brown?”

  Callie smiles as she adjusts the angle of the bottle in his hand. “That’s a good question. I don’t know. We’re peach-colored, yet we’re called white.”

  Nicholas nods. “That’s weird.”

  Callie met a young woman named Cynthia at group last year. Cynthia had just found out that she was pregnant, and was contemplating getting an abortion. She’d never wanted to get pregnant, but she’d been raped, and therefore didn’t want to keep the baby. After spending time in both therapy and group, Cynthia changed her mind. She decided that she wanted to put her baby up for adoption instead.

  Callie and I had applied for adoption earlier that year. We’d enjoyed the one-on-one time with Nicholas, and with him going off to kindergarten in the fall, we thought it’d be the perfect time to expand our family.

  Sometimes, you can’t fathom why awful things happen in life. People say there’s a reason for everything, and maybe they’re right, but I still haven’t been able to understand why Mia had to die. I’m not sure I ever will.

  Yet I have been able to appreciate the good that came after those bad times.

 

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