by M. Piper
“So, we’re going to head back home, I guess,” Benton says, shoving his hands in his pockets after securing Hannah in her stroller. Before I can turn his unspoken invitation back to his place down, his phone starts to ring. He curses under his breath, pulling it out to check. “Hey, it’s my dad, can you hang on a sec?”
After smiling and nodding, he answers the call and his face immediately falls. I’ve seen that look before. Oh god, I know that look on him.
“Gab, can you just…” He flicks his eyes from me to Hannah and I nod silently, worry etching his face as he walks to a nearby bench. I watch him sit down, as my hand instinctively goes around the handle of the stroller. Tight. When Hannah starts to fuss, I start slowly moving the stroller back and forth, hoping to calm her down from the movement the same way I used to calm Noah down.
“Shh,” I say to Hannah, while my eyes watch Benton. Elbows on his knees, head hung low, one hand holding the phone, the other on the back of his neck. That’s the looks of despair. The look of worry.
I remember seeing that look so many times over the years that I’ve grown used to it.
It’s a look that haunts my dreams at night.
He hangs up shortly after, and takes a moment to compose himself. Whatever that phone call was about, it wasn’t good. Taking a breath, he rubs his hands down his face before standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. His walk back to me is slow and deliberate, like he’s putting all his effort into bringing his body to us.
“Hey,” I whisper when he reaches us. One hand still on the stroller, I reach out to touch his cheek and he turns his face into my touch. “What’s up?”
He groans and takes my hand in his, moving it to his mouth to kiss it before locking his deep brown, stormy eyes on mine. The pain in his face tells me it definitely wasn’t a phone call just to say ‘hi’. Something happened. Something bad happened. Everything starts running through my brain, but, with as little as I know about his personal life, I really don’t know what it could be. Sure, I know he’s insanely close to his parents, more so than most thirty year olds that I know, but I don’t know if he has siblings, cousins, a large or small family… I don’t know, and now I suddenly wish I did. I wish I knew this stuff. I want to be here for him, because, even though he doesn’t know it, he’s been there for me more times than I can count.
“My mom,” he manages to choke out. “I need to go,” he says, frantically starting to pack the rest of his things into the stroller.
“Wait, B,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder, helping him calm his erratic movements. “What happened? Where are you going?”
“Hospital,” he whispers and my stomach drops.
“Oh God, Benton,” I whisper, kneeling down by him. “What about Hannah?”
Apparently, he hadn’t thought of that, because, the minute I say it, his eyes grow wide with panic.
“I’ll… I…” he stammers, but he can’t get words out. He’s in shock, I think.
“Hey. How about I take her back to your place until you’re done? I don’t have plans today, so I’ll take her back, we’ll nap and do girl stuff while you be with your mom. How’s that sound?” I’m silently cursing myself for suggesting that, but I need to be here for him. I need to help in any way I can. A baby, especially one that wants to be as independent as she can, but isn’t quite ready to yet, would be a headache at a hospital. Trying to keep her off the floor, keeping her from touching her face with her hands after she touches all the gross surfaces that hospitals have to offer. He can’t bring her with. This is the only option.
“Are you sure?” His sad eyes hit mine, and my heart breaks for him. I hate that he’s hurting. Smiling, I nod.
“Absolutely.”
He sighs, then pulls me in for a kiss that turns into a hug that turns into him not letting go of me for what feels like forever. Wrapped in his embrace, I’m safe. He’s safe. Together, we’re safe.
As long as we don’t let the world touch us.
Mom
Benton
Watching Gabby walk back to my house with my baby girl is the most beautiful sight I think I’ve ever seen. She’s intuitive with Hannah, like she’s done the ‘hanging out with a child’ thing before, but, from what I know about her, I know she doesn’t have kids or siblings or anyone in her life that would make that possible. Maybe she’s just a naturally maternal person. I’ve known her for months, she’s my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend, so I trust her with my girl. Actually, I’m not worried one bit about the two of them. I know they’ll be just fine.
What I am worried about, though, is what’s going on with my mom. My dad didn’t have any information other than he found her on the floor of the kitchen, blood coming from a wound on her head. That’s all I have to go on, and this taxi ride is taking way too fucking long. I can’t get there fast enough.
By the time the cab stops in front of the hospital entrance, I’m already halfway out before it comes to a complete stop. Thank God for card swipe machines in the back of those things now. I swiped my card right off the bat, so I could get out and run to my family. They need me.
I need them.
I find my dad in the corner of the ER waiting room, wringing his hands together with worry. A simple gesture that I remember seeing a lot in my childhood. As an adult, I notice it and realize it’s worry, but, as a kid, I had no clue. They worked so hard to keep me happy and upbeat like any other child, but now I know the struggles they went through. The things they sacrificed for me. Now that I’m older, I want to repay that. I need to.
“Hey,” I whisper, sitting next to him. His glances over at me, and his arm immediately goes around my shoulders.
“Oh god, Benton. I… I don’t know,” he starts with a strained voice, but stops himself and clears his throat. “I’m not sure what’s going on. She wasn’t coherent the entire way over here in the ambulance. I haven’t seen her beautiful eyes since I left for golf this morning. I just need to see her. I have to know she’s okay... I don’t know what happened, son.”
“She’s a fighter, dad. She’ll be okay.”
“I pray so,” he sighs.
Sitting in the hospital takes me back to a year ago. When they called me down to the morgue to verify that it was, indeed, Carly in the car when it crashed. It was a different hospital, and it wasn’t the ER waiting room, but still… the smell starts getting to me after a while.
“Hey,” I say, standing. “Let’s go get some fresh air,” I offer, reaching my hand out to help him up.
After a moment of thought, he stands and glances towards the doors that he’s seen doctors coming out of all afternoon, just to be let down that he hasn’t been called for Mom yet.
“I’ll let them know we’ll be outside,” I offer, helping him towards the door, stopping by the desk on the way. He seems ten times frailer since the last time I saw him, or maybe it’s being here in this situation that has me thinking about life and death. My parents definitely aren’t getting any younger. Luckily, though, up until now, we’ve had no health scares in the family. No chronic illness, no cancer, no deaths. It’s been pretty smooth sailing, so, for this to happen so suddenly, probably has my dad on high alert that life isn’t as long as it once was for him.
By the time we make it outside, it’s almost dark and I make sure to pull out my phone and check on Hannah. Shooting a quick text to Gabby once I finally have reception, I slide my phone back in my pocket and take a seat next to my dad.
“You know, we used to talk about traveling when we were older,” he says, staring at his fingers. “She wanted to go to France. I promised her the Eiffel Tower at night.” He sighs and rakes his hands through his hair.
“Stop talking in past tense, Dad. She’s gonna be fine.” I huff, not wanting to start dwelling on the negative. “She’s in a great hospital, she’s getting great care, I’m sure she’s fine. They probably are just running slow, like any other hospital in this area.”
“You didn’t see her, Bento
n. Her skin was graying… her fingers were chilled. You didn’t see it, Benton,” he whispers pained.
“Dad, she still had a heartbeat when you guys got here, didn’t she?” I ask frantically. What is he not telling me?
“I-”
“Mr. James?” A nurse calls from the doors of the waiting room that lead out into the courtyard. “Mr. Eric James?” She looks around, and, when my dad stands, her eyes find him and she smiles sadly.
Sadly. Fuck.
“Hey, Dad, you want me to come with you?” I ask, putting my hand on his shoulder.
He looks at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen on him and just nods. That’s it. He doesn’t smile; he doesn’t speak. It’s like he knows something I don’t. The nurse leads us into an office just down the hallway and tells us the doctor will be in any minute.
“They normally call you to take you to the patient,” he mumbles, staring at the dark wood desk in front of us. This must be a secondary office, because it’s not riddled with papers or phones or computers. Just a few pens, a few files of some sort, and dust.
“I’m sure it’s because they’re busy and want to update us on everything, so we don’t worry,” I say, trying to convince myself the words I’m saying are true. Honestly, I can’t think anything but negative things at this point in the game, but I’m trying to stay positive for my dad.
He grunts his response, and nods, as we wait silently for some type of news.
It has to be happy news. She can’t be gone. The last thing I told her was a lie… that I wasn’t seeing anyone… the last conversation I have with my mom will not be based on a lie. She’s got to be happy and healthy, and just resting somewhere while the doctors make their rounds. I can’t live without my mom. My dad can’t live without my mom. I still remember when we had to go without her for a week when I was a teenager. It was terrible. I lived off mac and cheese and pop tarts for six days straight because my dad can’t cook like her. He missed her so badly that all he did was waste away in front of the TV. I went to school and came home, and I swear he didn’t move from his spot on the couch. She was gone, trying to help nurse her father back to health, but, with them living five hours away, it was no use for her to come back home. When she finally did, my dad made sure to be the best he could be around her so she never left again. They love each other harder than I’ve ever seen a couple love. I can only wish one day I’ll find that love again. I had it with Carly, and, though we had our rough times (like every couple does), I swore we’d be the happy couple ‘till death. I just didn’t know death would strike so soon. Now, I’m a thirty year old single father to a baby I adopted the day my wife passed.
I thought I had everything in my world finally in neat little boxes, and, in one day, everything changed. Now, here we are again, almost a year later, waiting for news in a hospital. My phone dings and I smile, seeing a picture Gabby sent of her and Hannah eating dinner. Spaghetti it is, and Hannah is covered in red sauce. Another message dings through and I open it, remembering to silence my phone before I go on.
Gabby: Bath night tonight. Sorry
I shoot her a quick text back, smiling as I type.
Benton: Looks fun, wish I was there. Will call once we hear something.
All I get back is a symbol for a response, but it still warms my heart.
Gabby: <3
Her message reminds me that I have people waiting for me at home. I have a life that I can live because I was spared from being in the car with Carly that night, because I had people that would need me. My mom is going to be okay, because she has people that need her. She needs to live for us, and for herself. She’s young. She’s healthy. There’s no way she … I can’t even think it!
This can’t be happening again. There’s no way God would put me through something like this again. This can’t happen… it isn’t happening.
“Mr. James…” my father and I hear as the door opens. As we turn, we see a man in blue scrubs walk into the room. Dreary.
“Yes. That’s me. This… uh… this is my son, Benton. Benton James,” my father stammers nervously as he shakes the doctor’s hand. I follow suit, and the doctor smiles sadly.
I remember smiles like that.
“Mr. James,” he addresses my father. “I have some unfortunate news for you.”
Those words. Unfortunate news.
Unfortunate news would be a rained out ball game. Unfortunate news would be missing the train to work and being late. What’s about to come out of his mouth isn’t unfortunate news. It’s news that’s going to devastate an entire family.
I can just feel it.
“You wife is no longer with us, Mr. James,” he says empathetically. Like he’s gone through this shock before.
Shock doesn’t even register at this point. It feels like I’ve been hit with a ninety-pound barbell right in the middle of my chest. Silently sobbing next to me, my father can’t form any coherent sentences and it’s up to me to step up, but I’m having a hard time finding my breath.
“She’s gone?” I manage, fighting back tears that threaten. “Oh, God,” I whisper, slumping in my chair, feeling like I’m going to vomit. “Oh, fuck.” Moaning, I lean forward and hang my head between my knees, trying to find something… some sort of level feeling when my entire being wants to give up.
This can’t be happening.
“Mr. James, both of you, I’m so sorry for your loss. Your wife had an aortic aneurysm. It had started to burst when she got here, which is what must have caused her to fall and hit her head. Blood flow had slowed, causing her to faint. By the time we got in, and saw what we were dealing with… it was too late. She was already gone.” He purses his lips together sadly and watches us, hands clasped in front of him. Like watching an angry bear ready to attack.
I feel numb. I can’t cry, though I feel the knot welling up. I can’t get mad because I need to be here for my dad. I can’t speak, because everything that comes out is going to be anger at the man that didn’t save my mother.
“If it’s any consolation, she wasn’t in pain when she left us,” he says, standing and clearing his throat. “If you would like to say goodbye, we have her cleaned up for you. We like to give the family the option, but it’s completely up to you.”
My dad’s gaze watches him with puffy eyes, like he does not comprehend what the doctor is saying to him.
“Dad,” I whisper. “We need to tell her goodbye.”
Fuck this hurts.
He doesn’t say anything. He just shakes his head from side to side, then looks over at me, and bursts into tears again. I know his hurt. I felt the same pain when I lost Carly last year. He lost his life partner. His forever love.
“Come on, Dad,” I say, helping him stand up. Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this right now. I shouldn’t have to tell my mother goodbye. I shouldn’t be walking back through the gates of hell again. This can’t be real. It has to be a joke.
But it’s not.
As the door to the room they are keeping her in opens, I smell it first.
Death.
The gray skin on my mother’s face doesn’t match her usual colorful life filled cheeks. Her hands, limp at the table, will never hold my baby girl again. Oh God, Hannah. Pain sears through my body at the thought of having to explain to my girl that grandma won’t be able to watch her anymore. That she won’t be here for her anymore.
Fuck me.
“I’ll give you two a moment,” the doctor whispers, clicking the door closed behind him.
I glance over at my father and he’s just standing there, holding my mom’s lifeless hand. She’s clean. There’s no more blood from the fall, no signs of any trauma. I’ve heard people say their loved ones finally look at peace when they die, but peace on my mother doesn’t look like this. It looks like her holding Hannah, rocking her to sleep, dancing with my father in the kitchen. It looks like everything we’ll never have again.
“Dad,” I choke out, wiping the tear from my face. “Dad,” I manage aga
in, going to his side. “Oh God, mom,” I cry, falling to my knees, my dad sliding down with me.
The hurt I feel is nothing compared to his, but I still feel it. I still feel the pain, the tears, and everything. The thought of Hannah not knowing how much her grandma loved her makes the hurt and anger swirl inside me, until I feel like I could take out every doctor that didn’t save my mother, every doctor in this fucking hospital that failed us.
“Benton,” my dad whispers. “She loved you, son. More than anything. I hope you know that,” he manages. It’s the most words he’s spoken since he heard the news.
Then, it clicks. The pain I’m feeling is because of Hannah and how she’s going to react to it. I’m more worried about my child at this point, and her growing up without a grandma. My dad, the man holding on to me for dear life, is hurting for me. He’s hurting because he’s alone now, and he knows how close my mom and I were. He’s hurting every single hurt I could possibly hurt times ten.
When the doctor comes back into the room, we’ve composed ourselves enough and say our final goodbyes to my mom. Well, to her body. She’s not in there anymore.
Walking out of the hospital, shock settling in that my dad has to go home alone tonight. Every night. I know that feeling, and it’s not a fun one. Not at all.
“Hey, you need me to come with you tonight?” I ask, remembering that he has to go home and clean her blood off the floor still. Shit.
“No.” He stops next to the doors of the hospital. “I need to go home and clean up.” He mutters something about the blood, and my heart sinks a little more for him. He shouldn’t have to go back by himself and do this all alone, but he’s so stubborn that I know he’s not going to let me come along.
I grab a cab, not wanting to make my dad drive around any more than he needs to tonight, and call Gabby three times on the drive home. Missing every call, I try to tell myself that they are just sleeping, but with all the bad that happened tonight, I just need to know everyone else is okay.