by Denise Wells
“I’m sorry.” She reaches her hand over and touches my arm. “I can’t begin to know how you feel. I was a child when my mom left us, but I still feel the loss every day.”
“You haven’t talked to her since she left?”
“No. Once she decided she was done, then she was done.”
“Wow. That’s awful.” I turn to give her my best sympathetic look and hope it’s convincing. It’s not one I’ve used often over the last few years, and I think I’m out of practice.
I pull into the station and park next to her car. Even though it’s in the next spot, I still walk her to it and kiss her goodnight on the cheek.
“Thank you for a great evening,” I surprise myself by telling her, even though it’s true.
She looks up at me, her face a mix of surprise and appreciation. “I should thank you,” she says. “You showed me a whole different side to you tonight. It was fun and unexpected. I liked it.”
I watch her as she pulls away. For lack of anything better to do, I follow her home to make sure she gets there safely, though there’s no reason she wouldn’t. As I turn to make my way out of her neighborhood to head home, my phone rings.
Ethan.
I answer through my car system. “Hey bud, you were—”
“B, can you get to the hospital, man? It’s bad. I’m scared. She’s bleeding. And the baby—”
“I’m on my way. Do you need anything?”
“Can you let Tenley know?”
“I just left her house. I’ll get her and we’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”
I disconnect the call, make a quick U-turn, and speed back to Tenley’s, calling her as I go.
29
Tenley
I’ve barely kicked my shoes off before my phone is ringing.
Brad.
“Did you follow me home?” I smile.
“I’m thirty seconds away. Be outside waiting. Sadie is in the hospital.” He disconnects before I can say anything else. It can’t be the baby; his voice was too serious.
I shove my feet back in my shoes, grab a jacket, and am locking the front door as Brad pulls up. I run to the truck and get in.
“What’s wrong? You didn’t sound happy,” I ask.
“I don’t know. Ethan said it was bad. She’s bleeding.”
“Ohmigod!”
“He was crying, Tenley. I’ve only heard Ethan cry once before.” He looks at me. I can only guess it was when Kat passed away.
Brad’s tires squeal slightly as he takes each corner down the hill. This time it doesn’t bother me.
The only thing that matters is getting to Sadie.
They aren’t able to give us much information at the hospital arrival desk, other than the floor Sadie will be on once she’s out of surgery.
Ethan is pacing the hall when we get off the elevator. He looks like he’s aged thirty years in a day. His face is gaunt, and any lines look to run deeper than before. I run to him and wrap him in my arms. “What happened?”
He chokes back a sob and holds me tight. “I can’t lose her, Tenley. I can’t.”
“It’s okay. She will be okay. Sadie is tough. Tell me what happened?” I pull away and look at him. The devastation he’s feeling is clear in his eyes, his gaze looks hollow.
“I don’t know. I went out to get her ice cream. I was gone maybe ten minutes. When I got back, there was blood everywhere. So much blood.” He steps back and covers his face in his hands.
I look to Brad for guidance, but his eyes are closed and his face is tight with pain. I’m just not sure if it’s pain he’s feeling for Ethan and Sadie, or if he’s remembering what it felt like before he lost Kat. Or, shit, maybe his hand still hurts. Either way, he’s not feeling well.
I steer Ethan over to a chair in the waiting area and force him to sit. Then I return and do the same with Brad. Once I have them both seated, I turn to Ethan and take his hands in mine.
“What have the doctors said?”
“Placental abruption. They don’t know if either she or the baby will make it.” His voice breaks. “God, Ten, there was so much blood.”
I’d held off crying but couldn’t do it any longer. My chin quivers as my eyes water, and tears stream down my cheeks.
How did this happen?
She’s pregnant and people have babies every day.
It’s so . . . normal.
“Thank fuck there was an ambulance close or she would’ve died on the way. Fuck, they both would have.” He stares in front of him at nothing. I place my hand on his shoulder, lamely, not knowing what else to do. Brad comes to from whatever fog the news sent him into and pulls Ethan into a hug. I’m not surprised to see tears on his cheeks either.
I researched pre-eclampsia when Sadie was first diagnosed; well, as much as I could on the internet. One result, and possibly the worst one, is a placental abruption. The placenta detaches from the uterus and there is no way to reattach it, putting both mom and baby in immediate danger. Mom loses too much blood and baby then can’t get oxygen or nutrients. The window is small for saving them once it happens. And delivering the baby must be emergent to avoid loss of life.
Sadie is at thirty-six weeks, so the baby is technically full-term already. That should allay any fears of issues regarding prematurity.
Assuming they both survive.
Which they will.
They have to. Sadie can’t die. Baby Audrey can’t die. The universe can’t be so cruel as to take a baby from this world that will be loved so much. Can it?
Of course it can. Happens all the time.
My thoughts continue to turn dark as I imagine how life will look without Sadie or baby Audrey in it. I can’t even fathom such an existence. It was hard enough to live in Texas without Sadie after she stayed in California, and I still got to talk to her every day. Not having that option would be devastating.
Which must be how Brad felt when Kat passed.
Only, maybe worse.
A new wave of grief washes over me as I get an inkling of how he must have felt. And a better idea of how Remi and Lexie must have felt.
I can’t go through that. I can’t.
I head to the nurses' station and wait for someone to be free to talk to me.
“I’m hoping to get an update on Sadie Stone?”
The nurse checks the computer. “As soon as the doctor is able, he will come out and give you an update.” She smiles, but it’s bleak and discouraging.
I return to our seats. Ethan looks up at me, hopeful, as I approach. I shake my head, letting him know there’s no new news. I sit down in the chair next to Brad, and my body feels heavy and uncomfortable. I lean my head against the wall behind us with a thud. Brad turns to look at me, eyebrow raised, and I reach up to rub the back of my head in response to his unspoken question. He pulls my head down to his shoulder with his good hand and allows me to rest it there. Ethan stands and resumes pacing.
Minutes turn into an hour. I try to cling to the hope that no news is good news.
Ethan apparently feels the same way. “It's got to be good it’s taking so long, right?” Ethan says it more as a statement than a question. “They’ve got to be giving her blood, which takes a while. She’s type AB, so they have plenty on hand.”
A doctor comes down the hall, pulling his surgery cap off as he approaches. “Sadie Stone?”
Ethan rushes to him. “How is she?” Brad and I crowd around him, hoping to hear something good.
“We’re doing everything we can but are having a difficult time getting the bleeding to stop. I’m afraid our only course of action at this point is a full hysterectomy. I need the okay to proceed. That isn’t a guarantee we can stop the bleeding, but it is our best chance.”
“Yes, fine, whatever you need. Just save her, please.”
“What about the baby?” I ask.
The doctor runs his hand through his short, greying hair, mussing it. “The baby went without oxygen for a while. She’s on
her way to stable, but we don’t know yet how this has impacted brain activity. We have our top pediatric surgeon coming in, and I will know more then. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back in there.” The doctor turns to walk away.
“Hey, doc?” Ethan calls after him.
He turns back and looks at Ethan quizzically.
“Sadie is the priority.”
I can’t help the gasp that escapes. Ethan turns, giving me a harsh look, while the doctor nods his head and leaves. Brad puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
“Don’t do that, Tenley,” Ethan says. “We can have another baby. I can’t get another Sadie.”
“Ethan, they are taking her uterus. She can never have another baby.”
It seems to hit him then, the magnitude of the hysterectomy. He stumbles back against the wall and slowly slides down until he’s sitting on the floor, where I join him.
On some level, I feel helpless. I know Sadie would want me to help Ethan, I just don’t know how. It seems like every time we turn around, the news gets worse. I wish I was more of a praying person, because I would pray now with everything I have. But do higher powers grant the prayers of those who only do it when in need?
Brad sits down Ethan’s other side, placing his good hand on Ethan’s shoulder in an awkward show of support. I take Ethan’s hand in mine and hold tight. I wish I had something to help us pass the time, but everything seems so trivial. The only satisfying act is staring at the wall, forcing myself to go numb. I know I’m failing Sadie by failing Ethan, by not helping him through this more, but I can’t stop myself. I’ve had her longer than he has. I’m going through my own shit dealing with the possibility of losing her.
I think back to when she and I first met, during one of my stints in public school. Sadie saw I was alone at lunch and asked if I wanted to sit with her and her friends at lunch. The next day, we realized we lived in the same neighborhood as we saw each other walking home. That started what has now been a twenty-five-year friendship. I have no way of replacing that if she dies.
Ethan had the right idea earlier by pacing the halls. But pacing isn’t my style. Still, I need to move a bit and offer to go get us all coffee. When I return, Ethan has resumed pacing. I set Ethan’s coffee on a small table near the waiting area and gesture to it when he sees me. Then I take a seat by Brad, handing him a cup and sipping at my own.
“Did they have a breve latte?” He smiles.
“No.” I laugh. “But they have lots of cream and sugar, and that will do in a pinch.”
He taps his temple as though storing away the information. I lean my head back on his shoulder and start counting the number of times Ethan walks back and forth in front of us.
I finish my coffee as we settle into hour two of our wait and start coming up with ways I plan to help Sadie once she gets out of here.
Because she will make it out of here. And so will the baby.
They have to.
30
Brad
I’m not going to lie. Even though Kat didn’t pass away in a hospital, being here, waiting like this, brings back way too many bad memories for me to be comfortable with. I know there are a million ways for me to be a better friend to E right now. But somehow, the most I can conjure is the occasional pat on the shoulder. He was so much better at this with me than I am with him. Further proof positive I’m a selfish bastard.
I let Tenley rest her head on my shoulder after she hit it on the wall, something she’s now doing again without prompting. On some level, I find it to be comforting and stabilizing. Her hair smells good, like the same vanilla and coconut scent she usually has, but with an added freshness. It makes me wonder if all her bath products have the same scent, or if it’s just her.
Her head feels heavy on my shoulder and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. I can’t move to see without disrupting her, but if she’s sleeping, I want to let her continue. If she isn’t, I’d like her to try to convince Ethan to sit down. I’m worried that all this pacing is just making him more anxious instead of calming him down.
As though she reads my mind, Tenley stands and moves over to Ethan, taking his hand and leading him back to where we’re sitting, for probably the third time tonight.
“I can’t sit, Ten,” Ethan says.
“You’re too worked up,” Tenley answers. “You need to relax a bit, if you can. If you stay hyped, you will have an adrenaline crash, then you’ll be no good to Sadie or Audrey when they let you in to see them.”
“I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” Ethan responds.
“Nah, dude, I think she’s right.” I lean across Tenley to tell Ethan.
Ethan laughs. “You’re an idiot.”
I shrug in response. But it’s nice to see him lighten up for just a second.
Then, the doctor approaches.
“How is she?” Ethan jumps up and rushes toward the man.
The doctor pulls off his surgery cap for the second time and holds it in his hands. He looks wiped out. “She lost a lot of blood. We had to give her a transfusion, but both she and the baby are stable. The baby is in NICU for now. I’ll have someone get you when your wife and daughter are ready for visitors.”
“Oh, thank god.” Ethan lets out a huge rush of air, and his shoulders visibly relax with the news. “Thank you, doc.”
The doctor holds up his hand to interrupt Ethan. “I’m afraid a total hysterectomy was necessary to stop the bleeding in your wife. There was nothing else we could do. I’m sorry.” He grabs Ethan by the bicep and gives a small squeeze, then walks away.
“Ethan, I’m so sorry.” Tenley rushes toward him and pulls him into her arms.
He steps back from her. “Why?”
“Well, I mean, the hysterectomy.” Tenley frowns. “It means no more kids, which will break Sadie’s heart. She wants a big family.” Tenley frowns.
Ethan looks at her like she’s crazy. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it as long as Sadie is okay.”
“And Audrey,” Tenley adds.
“And Audrey.” Ethan scowls. “Besides, we don’t need any more kids. One and done, right?”
I wonder how accurate that is. I know that before now, Ethan too wanted a big family, or at least two kids. I’m guessing the relief he feels now is because his girls are both stable, but what about when life goes back to normal and they remember they wanted to give Audrey a sibling; what then?
Will he be okay with adoption?
Ethan comes toward me. “Thank you so much for being here, man. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this alone.”
It’s not over yet.
I don’t voice the words I’m thinking. Instead, I give Ethan a hug and tell him I’m happy the girls are okay.
Before long they are moving Sadie into recovery and we are on our way to see her. She’s not awake yet, but E rushes to her side, taking her hand in his and smoothing her hair away from her face. It’s a gesture I would often use with Kat.
Tenley stands at the foot of the bed, seemingly unsure as to her role in all of this. For the first time, I realize that it must be hard for her not to be the center of Sadie’s life any longer. Ethan took that title from her a while ago, and now, with a baby in the mix, she will be in third position.
Sadie’s eyes blink open and she immediately asks about the baby. Ethan tells her everything is fine, but Tenley steps in and gives it to her straight. “She lost oxygen for a while, but she’s stable. They have the top pediatric surgeon looking after her. But it’s unsure yet whether losing oxygen affected her brain.”
Sadie cries out and covers her mouth. Ethan leans over and kisses her on the forehead, then gently places Sadie’s hand by her side. He stomps over to the Tenley and pulls her aside.
“Don’t you dare upset her, Tenley. I mean it. Or I’ll forbid you to see her.”
“Back off, Ethan. She wants the truth. Trust me on that. Don’t sugarcoat this for her, it will only make it worse.”
Ethan bow
s his head, looking ashamed, and rightly so. From what I know of Sadie, Tenley is right. She will want the truth no matter how hard it is to hear. He just can’t see beyond his need to protect her.
The door to the room opens with a light knock and a nurse wheels in a small incubator hooked up to oxygen. “I thought you might want to meet this beautiful little girl,” she says with a smile.
“Oh!” Sadie tries to sit up, and grimaces. I can only imagine how her core muscles must feel right about now. Ethan hits a button and adjusts the bed for her, and the nurse wheels the baby right up to her side. The two share a moment, each tearing up over the sight of their newborn daughter.
I step back and approach Tenley. “You want to go grab a coffee or something? Give them a minute?” She nods in response. I guide her out of the room with my casted hand at the small of her back.
We make it to the hall before she falls apart.
“Ohmigod, Brad.” She turns into my chest, her face buried in her hands. “I can’t handle this. She almost died. The baby is in an incubator. Sadie looks so weak. What’s going to happen?”
I put my arms around her and pull her tight against me. Then I let my own tears fall. The last few hours have been emotionally taxing. Watching Ethan wait to hear how Sadie was, knowing that her life was in danger, not knowing the fate of the baby, and having them both look so frail even now. On some level, it brings back memories of Kat, but more than that, I’m terrified for Ethan. And afraid for Tenley.
I never want anyone to go through what I have.
I take a moment to realize what a mature feeling that is for me to have.
Nessa would be proud.
Baby steps.
31
Tenley
I’m crying uncontrollably into Brad’s chest, and I can’t stop. It’s like the tears just keep coming and coming. And the crazy thing is, Sadie is okay. The baby is okay. They are both going to live. So why am I suddenly so upset now?