All The Little Moments

by G. Benson

  Two sick little children, both who wanted their parents. Parents know how to make everything better.

  Decisive, she nevertheless stood awkwardly, hefting Ella with her. She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not. Ella still shuddered with the odd sob, her face hot against Anna’s skin as she wrapped her arms around Anna’s neck and whimpered. Anna walked out to the hallway, then hovered outside the door for a second before struggling to reach a hand out from under the weight of Ella. The door swung open slowly.

  Jake and Sally’s room was cast in shadow. The blinds were open, the street light outside throwing a tiny amount of light into the room. To the right, the door to the walk-in wardrobe was partly open, left in a hurry to get dressed for a dinner they never made. The bed was tidy, pristine—a habit Jake had never broken from his Air Force days. There was a lonely shoe on the floor, a heel. The roof was angled down over the bed, and, at the sight of it, a memory slammed into Anna.

  Her phone rang incessantly in her pocket as she desperately tried to get some sleep in an on-call room. After three days straight at the hospital, sleep deprivation was starting to get to her. She pretended not to hear it.

  Unable to ignore the third call, she pulled out her phone out and glared at her brother’s name flashing on the screen.

  “Jake, seriously? Do you know what time it is?”

  “It’s only four in the afternoon.”

  “Do you know what time it is in hospital world?”

  “Suck it up.”

  Anna finally clued in to the panic in her brother’s voice. She sat up slightly, alert, her elbow taking her weight.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Uh…no. I fail at parenting, and Sally is going to murder me.”

  Anna blurrily scrunched her eyebrows together. “What now?”

  “So, I was dancing and singing with Ella—”

  Anna snickered at the image.

  “Ha ha, I’m a softy. Shut up. Focus. I had her on our bed, and the stupid roof slopes down over it, something Sally loved when we bought the place; I may have encouraged Ella to bounce and she may have hit her head. Hard.”

  Anna fell back down against the bed. Seriously, if it wasn’t bad enough to warrant an immediate 000 call, her brother was most likely overreacting.

  “Is she bleeding?”

  “No.”

  “Did she black out?”

  “No.”

  “Screaming? Crying?”

  “At first. Now she’s watching Elmo.”

  “She unsteady? Any more so than a normal two-year-old?”

  “No.”

  “Vomiting? Staring weirdly at things?”

  “No.”

  “She’s fine. Keep an eye on her. Any of that happens, take her to the ER.”

  She heard Jake let out a long breath. “You sure?”

  Anna threw an arm over her eyes. “Well, I can’t see her, but she sounds okay.”

  “Okay. Now. The important part: can I hide this from Sally?”

  “How bad is the bump?”

  “Size of an egg.”

  Anna grimaced. “Poor Ella. Probably not.”

  “Shit.”

  “Shush. Your daughter will hear you. You don’t want to corrupt her as well as give her permanent brain damage.”

  “Brain damage!”

  “Jake. Calm. I’m teasing. She’s fine. Besides, she totally rolled off the changing table when she was a baby, and Sally called me in the same state. You two can be on even ground now.”

  “She did?”

  “She did. And a million other parents have done what you two have done. You’re doing fine.”

  “Sometimes I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Anna laughed wryly, “I think that’s how all parents feel.”

  “You ever going to join the ranks?”

  “Christ, no, Jake. When we were kids, you were the one who dragged my cabbage patch doll to feed at the table while Mum dragged me from the mud.”

  “I played in the mud, too. And it’s not my fault Andy liked potato.”

  “You are a very strange person, Brother.”

  “Back at you. Now go to sleep.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Hey, and thanks, Doctor Foster.”

  “You know, one day you’ll have to stop saying that like it’s a joke. I’m an actual doctor.”

  “Never in my eyes, kid.”

  “Said the child breaker.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Go away, I’m very busy and important.”

  They both hung up laughing.

  In the dim light, Anna could see dust floating in the air. Besides a slight musty smell, it appeared like it always had. Her throat ached as she looked around.

  Ella turned her head and stared with wide eyes. “It smells like Mummy.”

  A lingering whiff of perfume Anna hadn’t noticed at first registered. “Wanna sleep in their bed?”

  Ella blinked, looking around. She nodded. “I’d sleep in the middle, when I was sick. Daddy called me his hot water bottle.”

  Anna took in a deep breath and stepped through the doorway.

  Nothing happened.

  She didn’t really expect anything to; maybe she’d just hoped something would. Entering this room had been built up into something, into a symbol of their avoidance.

  As gently as she could manage with the uncomfortable weight of a child, Anna put Ella on the bed, Ella clinging to her shirt. Climbing on next to Ella, they slipped under the sheets. Ella sighed as she wriggled backwards. Wrapping her arms around her, Anna pulled her close.

  They lay quietly. Not a lot of dust had gathered in these two months after all. She had really built this up in her mind.

  Ella’s little voice cut through the semidarkness. “I miss the way Mummy knew when I was having a nightmare and would come into my room and scoop me up.”

  Anna rested her chin on top of Ella’s head, the little girl completely folded into her front. Ella’s voice was almost contemplative, a tone Anna thought must be rare in someone her age.

  “I miss the way your mummy laughed with me after we’d put you rascals to bed.”

  “I miss how Daddy’s cheek felt in the morning when he’d cuddle me, all scratchy.”

  Anna smiled softly at that. “I miss how your daddy always knew what I was thinking.”

  “‘Cause you two were like twins?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I miss how Daddy made eggs. His eggs were yum.”

  “I miss how your mummy would choose me awesome presents but let your daddy take the credit.”

  “I miss how Mummy was always at home.”

  “I miss your dad’s stupid jokes.”

  “Daddy had good jokes.”

  “Hey Ella, what do you get hanging from trees?”

  “What?”

  “Sore arms.”

  Ella let out a little squawk of laughter. “Was that my dad’s joke?”

  “It was his favourite.”

  “See? Funny.”

  Anna could feel the smug little grin that came off her niece.

  “Let’s agree to disagree, Ella Bella.” Anna pulled her in closer. “I miss how your mummy and I used to go shopping.”

  “I miss Mummy’s cuddles.”

  “I miss your daddy’s hugs.”

  “Me, too.”

  They played that for who knew how long, before Toby’s cry cut in. Anna sat up and looked down at Ella, whose face was flushed as she blinked sleepy eyes at Anna.

  “Are you okay here while I get Toby?”

  Ella nodded, burrowing down.

  Anna slipped out and went to Toby’s room.

  The little boy stood up, clinging to the cot rail. The heat coming o
ff him was palpable before she even touched him. Anna pulled him into a cuddle, his tiny limbs wrapping around her, then stripped him of the onesie, leaving him in a nappy and vest. After checking his temperature, she found the baby paracetamol. A few gulps of water, and he quietened.

  Cradling him to her front, she cupped his head to her chest and quietly padded down the hallway to Jake and Sally’s room, leaving the door open to let in the soft hallway light.

  Engulfed in the middle of the king-sized bed, Ella blinked owlishly.

  “Ella Bella, what are you wearing?”

  Ella looked down at the jumper that was swimming on her. “This is Daddy’s military jumper.”

  Anna slipped into bed next to Ella and sat cross-legged with Toby still wrapped around her. She rubbed his back and kept her voice light. “Where was it?”

  “Under Mummy’s pillow. She wore it whenever Daddy went away.” Ella wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s like a hug from both of them.”

  Ella said it simply, but Anna felt the words tug at her.

  She lay down on her side, Toby wiggling to cuddle into her front. Reaching her hand out, she wrapped her arms around both the kids.

  The three of them drifted off. Ella didn’t wake calling out and Toby slept through.

  Anna didn’t take her hands off either of them all night.

  “You’re kind of addictive.”

  Lips pressed against the back of Anna’s neck and an arm wrapped around her middle. She’d been staring vaguely at a spare computer in the surgery lounge, and then suddenly, the bliss of Lane enveloped her.

  “You should join a support group.” Anna smirked to herself, pretending to keep her eyes on the screen as Lane’s chin rested on her shoulder, her front pressed tight to Anna’s back. Surely it wasn’t normal to feel like turning and pushing someone against the wall and yet feel so settled and at peace all at the same time?

  Lane’s eyes sparkled. “Anna Addicts Anonymous. I can get Jenny to join.”

  A laugh puffed out of Anna even as she rolled her eyes.

  Lane turned to nuzzle her neck, smiling against the skin. “Laugh all you want, that intern has an insane crush on you.”

  Turning, eye to eye with Lane, lips barely apart from hers, Anna said, “Too bad I’m only interested in emergency nurses.”

  Lane’s mouth dropped open. “I knew you were seeing Tess!”

  With a delighted giggle, she pressed her lips to Lane’s.

  “How are the kids feeling?”

  Anna shrugged. Even though the room was empty, she stepped back to put some space between them before they got too comfortable. “Better. It was a short-lived bug.”

  “Ella happy to have a day off school yesterday?”

  Anna nodded, leading them out of the room and down a hallway to the elevator. “She was. She and Toby were mostly better by the morning but I figured I shouldn’t share their bug around. Apparently it’s sweeping through the day care, so we’ll blame them.”

  “Good idea. Enjoy your lazy morning yesterday?”

  Anna let out an exasperated breath. After the night she’d had, she had started late to ease the kids up slowly before dropping them with her mother.

  “Actually, yes. It was delightful. Someone lovely had left a coffee on my desk when I got in.”

  Lane widened her eyes, pressing the up button on the lift. “Who could that have been?”

  When the doors opened, Lane led the way in. The second the doors started to close, Anna pushed her against the back wall. “You?”

  Wrapping her arms around Anna, Lane grinned. “It’s no fun if you guess.”

  Anna melted into Lane—it had been days since she had gotten to. First, the day from hell, and then yesterday had seen Lane swamped in Emergency all day. Their session on the couch had been almost a week ago.

  Anna could fade into their kisses forever. The feel of Lane’s tongue against her lip brought out a groan. She pressed harder against Lane, whose hand entwined in Anna’s hair, fingers pressing into her scalp.

  The lift slowed to a stop, and Anna stepped backwards, turning on the spot as the doors opened—as innocent as if they’d been in the position the whole time.

  Kym kept a straight face, eying them with raised eyebrows before she turned and pressed the button she wanted.

  Anna bit her lip as she felt Lane’s shoulders shaking with badly-hidden mirth.

  “And I’m supposed to believe you two weren’t just going at it like horny high schoolers?”

  “Anyone else would have believed it.” There was a pout in Lane’s voice.

  “Anna’s face is bright red and your shirt, Lane—” She turned, flicking her eyes down and then back to Lane’s face, “is unbuttoned almost completely.”

  Anna hid a smug grin as Lane’s indignant voice sounded out. “Holy shit, Anna, how fast do you move your hands?”

  Lane had no idea.

  “I bet Lane would love to know how fast.”

  She and Lane gaped at Kym, who feigned confusion. “What? That was funny.”

  Leaving Lane to do up her buttons and laugh at Kym, Anna slipped out of the elevator.

  There were nights like two nights ago, where everything felt impossible, and days like today, where she felt a peace settle over her as her life seemed to calm. She didn’t know what it was about the other night with the kids, but, as she lay wrapped with them in a room she had avoided at all costs, she had wondered where they would be now if she wasn’t doing this. And when they had woken up in the morning, things had felt different. There was still a constant ache in her stomach, but now it was being pushed out by something much stronger.

  She might sometimes wonder what she was doing, but never why she was doing it.

  And then there was Lane. Lane made everything a little bit better. And that alone was a little bit scary.

  The rest of her day was spent in consults, and, at three o’clock, almost on the dot, an eruption of pagers occurred around her. Anna looked down at hers, scrolling through the abnormally long message it presented. As the surrounding surgeons, doctors, and anaesthetists read through their messages, she watched their expressions—mirrors of the one that must be on her own face. Their boss, looking longingly at the late lunch he wouldn’t get to finish now, called out, “Okay, listen up. This is an emergency coming through. A truck has T-boned a school bus, causing a huge pileup on the freeway. We have multiple traumas on the way—we’re in for the night, guys.”

  Anna spun on her heel and started for the stairs, pulling out her phone as she moved quickly down them. As soon as she was through the door, she placed the call. “Mum. Hi, it’s me.”

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “I’m really sorry, but there’s been a huge accident and I can’t leave work this time.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t tell me about it, I don’t want to know.”

  She nodded grimly, feet pounding rhythmically on the stairs. The door on the next level swung open as Anna passed it and she saw Lane, who waved as she started down the stairs next to Anna.

  “I think I’ll be here late—as one of the senior anaesthetists, I really can’t leave. There’s going to be multiple surgeries. Can Ella and Toby stay with you?”

  “Of course. I can wash Ella’s uniform for tomorrow—I’ve got her from school already. How do I get Toby?”

  Anna relaxed slightly when she felt Lane’s hand on the small of her back as they made their way to ground level.

  “Remember, I told you? You’re on the list of people who can get him from day care, just take your license in.”

  “Okay, honey. I’ll get him in an hour.”

  “Thanks, Mum. Sorry about this.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s what grandmas are for.”

  “Tell Ella I’m sorry. Tell her we’ll go to the movies on the weekend.”

&nbs
p; “She’ll be fine. I’ll keep Toby with me tomorrow. I’ll let the day care know when I pick him up. Good luck, honey.”

  “Thanks Mum, bye.”

  As she put her phone away, Anna flashed a smile at Lane. “Hi.”

  “Hey. Just got told I’m needed for a double in emergency. Ready for a long night?”

  The door that led into the emergency room finally appearing in front of them, Anna nodded and pulled it open. The place was a mess, set up for mass trauma, sirens wailing outside, the first patients already on their way in. Just before they walked through the doors, Lane’s fingers linked briefly with hers for a moment before letting go. Adrenaline already moving through her body, Anna bounced on the balls of her feet.

  “You bet.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The night was chaotic, the noise level high. It was all hands on deck, and Anna loved it. Not that there were children and adults in a critical condition after a truck crashed into a school bus—but she was definitely loving the action, the incredibly fast pace, the thinking on her feet. Adrenaline hit her system as she was engulfed by it all. It was her job, after all. A job she was damn good at, that she had lived for—once.

  In no time at all, Anna was directed to a bed to take over guarding a patient’s airway. The boy was no more than ten, shirt cut open, an emergency doctor inserting an intercostal catheter. Eyes on the monitor, Anna saw that the boy’s heart rate was dangerously fast and his oxygen saturations were far too low. The catheter caused only a slight improvement. Anna elbowed out the intern standing at the head of the bed and checked the placement of the endotracheal tube. She tutted and glared the man down as her hands moved quickly, deflating the balloon and removing the tube.

  “You’ve been blowing air into his stomach.”

  The intern was pale. “I-I thought it was in the correct place.”

  “Check, don’t assume. Watch.” Anna inserted a new endotracheal tube, the correct size this time, and bagged the patient. The intern and Anna turned to watch his sats slowly creep up.

  “Anna, we need a patient intubated here and we have no hands!”

  Anna and the intern’s heads whipped to the bed next to theirs, where Lane knelt, performing compressions while a surgeon from trauma worked to control a lower abdomen bleed.