by Trudy Stiles
Cassie is pale and seems really off now. “I’m not sure. Her mother came to get her about ten minutes ago. There are some other people here to see her.” Cassie walks over to Mikey and turns on the lights above him. He’s here because he has severe jaundice and the lights help lower his bilirubin counts. Mikey’s large belly spills over his infant diaper. He’s huge. Well, huge for a baby in the NICU. Weighing in at almost eleven pounds, he’s the largest baby I’ve ever seen in this hospital. He’s perfect and fat and already has thighs that any mother would brag about. But since he has jaundice, he needs our help. He sleeps peacefully, full, content and looking so out of place here in the NICU. He’s been doing well, and if that continues, he should be going home by tomorrow. She adjusts the light above him and looks over at Ben.
“The bleed on the left side remains a grade three. Not good,” Cassie mumbles and sits on the stool in front of her computer.
“No, not good at all,” I say quietly, looking away from Mikey. It’s amazing how this room can go from frantic to quiet in a matter of minutes. “Cassie, are you okay?” I ask, concerned as to why she’s so off today.
“Yeah, it’s just…”
She stops talking as we hear a woman scream from the hallway, “No! No! No!”
Cassie and I turn our heads and see Olivia outside the NICU window, throwing herself into a large man, punching his chest. My heart grabs in my chest when I see another man next to him wearing similar clothes. Military.
“Oh no,” Cassie exhales and stands up.
Olivia’s wails turn to sobs, and her mother pulls her off of the Marine. She holds her daughter tight against her chest as the two Marines stand quiet and respectful.
“That can’t be good,” Cassie says. “When my cousin was visited by two Marines, she found out her husband was killed in Iraq. It’s never good when there are two of them. Never.” Her voice trails off as she moves to the window and peers out at them.
Olivia is shaking her head and then collapses onto the floor. One of the Marines bends down to a knee and scoops her into his arms, carrying her over to the couch in the lounge area. She doesn’t look conscious, and I call out to Dr. Hagan, who lifts her head from the desk. “Can you help? Olivia just passed out in the hallway.” She grabs smelling salt taped to the cabinet door and rushes out.
As soon as Dr. Hagan swipes the salts under Olivia’s nose, she opens her eyes and immediately begins to sob and wail. Her mother slides on the couch next to her, cradling her head in her lap. I can’t bear to watch this any longer.
“I hope to God she didn’t just hear what I think she did, but my instinct tells me she just found out her husband is gone.” Cassie pulls the blinds shut, giving Olivia privacy from our curious eyes. My chest tightens, and I try to fight the grief I feel for this young mother and her new family.
I look over at Ben and close my eyes. “God, please let this boy grow up strong and healthy,” I whisper quietly.
His monitor suddenly starts beeping wildly, jolting me from my silent prayer. Cassie and I both rush to the incubator and open it. His color is grayish and his heart rate is dangerously low. The monitors go off again, indicating something is wrong with his tube. The brand new tube that I just inserted. I feel faint and desperate.
Cassie puts her stethoscope to his chest and gasps. “His lungs are filled with fluid.” She begins working on him as Becky runs into the hallway to alert Dr. Hagan.
Several other nurses rush in with the doctor and I back away into the corner. I’m frozen as I watch them work on Ben. Cassie looks over at me, shaking her head. Her eyes are frantic and questioning. I look out of the blinds and see Olivia sitting up, drinking juice that one of the nurses brought to her. The Marines are still there, trying to give her space but also to comfort her. I look back toward Ben and I can’t see him. He’s surrounded by doctors and nurses.
Cassie’s eyes meet mine and I know.
We’re losing him.
I’M SEATED NEXT TO CASSIE inside the hospital administrator’s office.
I’m numb.
“Miss Weston, can you answer me?” Jim Burke, Chief of the NICU, asks again.
“I don’t know how it happened,” I say quietly. It’s my fault.
“You don’t know how the feeding tube was placed in his lungs instead of his stomach?” he asks accusingly.
“No, sir. I listened to his chest. I heard it in his stomach. I didn’t think it was in his lungs.” Cassie grabs my hand and squeezes. Did I actually listen to his chest? I don’t even remember. Holy fuck.
I’ve inserted hundreds of feeding tubes in babies tinier than Ben. Hundreds of tubes placed in the exact spot they were supposed to be placed. All the right way, never in their precious lungs. Lungs so tiny and desperate for air. Lungs trying to work hard to keep Ben alive.
Ben.
“Miss Weston, we’re placing you on administrative leave until we can conduct a full investigation into this situation.”
I inhale as Jim stands up behind his desk.
“But…” I say and break down. “I didn’t mean to, Jim. I did everything right. I don’t know what happened. Oh my God.”
It begins to sink in exactly what I’ve done. Cassie grabs me by my shoulders and guides me out of the room.
“Cassie.” I sob and fall to my knees in the hallway.
It’s my fault.
It’s my fault.
IT’S MY FAULT.
“Hush, Sam.” She sinks to the floor next to me and throws her arms around me. “Don’t say anything, okay?” She begs me not to confess. Not to tell her what I did.
“Whatever happened was an accident. Do you understand? The NICU was a zoo today. So much was going on. Too much was going on.” She rubs my arms, pulling me against her. I can hear the regret in her voice. She was assigned to Ben today, and it was her feeding tube that I inserted wrong. Her guilt is tangible, but not as thick as mine.
An accident? It was neglectful. Sloppy. Wrong.
“I killed him,” I whisper into her shoulder. “I killed Ben.”
Garrett
Present
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Age 26
HEATH MOVES THROUGH MY HOUSE like he’s been here before. He finds the whiskey and two glasses and quickly pours heaping servings for the both of us. He slides one across the large island in the kitchen that I’m propped against. I drink it down in one gulp, feeling the burn of the brown liquid in my throat and into my chest. I wince as a delayed burn attacks my nose. My eyes water as I push the glass toward him. He refills it without thinking and his eyes meet mine.
“Dude, you have a kid.”
The words hang in the air between us, and I swig the second shot of whiskey.
“You don’t know that,” I say, trying to convince myself that the birth certificate isn’t real.
“And his mother is dead.” He drops his eyes and swirls his drink before sucking it back.
I slide onto the barstool and place my forehead on the cool granite. This can’t be happening.
Heath’s cell phone chimes loudly and he answers it after the first ring. “Mick,” he says, and I close my eyes, keeping my head pressed to the counter. “Right. Okay. Thanks.” He drops the phone on the counter next to my head.
“The police are finished. They gathered everything they could find. They want to talk to you, and Mick gave them your home address.”
What could they want to talk to me about?
“I don’t understand,” I mutter and slowly lift my head. “What could they want with me?”
Heath shrugs his shoulders and pours me another shot of whiskey. “That girl died. I’m sure they want to tie up any loose ends. Maybe try to figure out how you knew her and how she OD’d.”
Sadie was completely wasted. More than when I fucked her a while back. Was it nine months ago? I try to remember where we were when I met her. It was cold. And snowing. We were in Philadelphia for the first leg of our tour, and it was right after Thanksgiving las
t year. Holiday lights were everywhere, so it was definitely before Christmas.
Exactly nine months ago.
“Oh my God,” I murmur.
Heath stiffens in front of me, and his eyes focus over my right shoulder. “Ma’am?” he says, addressing whoever is behind me.
Peggy.
I rub my hands over my face and inhale deeply.
“Garrett?” Without turning, I can picture her confused and worried face. She and I are rarely here at the same time, but when we are, she’s like a second mother to me. She takes care of everything and adds her extra-special motherly touch. Fresh meals, clean sheets and warm smiles. I never tell her this, but being around her completely grounds me when I’m home. Something I don’t get with anyone.
“Hey, Peggy,” I say and push the empty glass from me. I’m suddenly embarrassed that I’m a little buzzed and ashamed about the birth certificate she knows nothing about.
“Is everything okay?” she asks hesitantly, and she moves to the end of the island, transferring her gaze between Heath and me.
“I should go—somewhere,” Heath says and backs away.
“No!” I say, startling all of us. His eyes widen and he shakes his head slowly. “You don’t know your way around the house.” He looks confused at my feeble attempt to keep him in the room with me and Peggy.
She tenses and reaches for my arm. Her cool hand grabs my wrist and I stiffen. “Garrett, what’s going on?” Her tone feels accusatory, and I pull my wrist from her grip.
“Nothing,” I snap. “We had some free time today, and Heath wanted to see my place.” I glare at Heath and expect him to corroborate my lies.
He turns to look out the window. “Hey, is that a pool house?” He quickly makes his way to the back door that leads to the backyard and the indoor pool at the back of my property. The door closes before I can stop him.
Peggy moves to fill the space where Heath was before. Her worried eyes find mine. “Garrett, I’ll ask you again, is everything okay?” she asks and reaches across the granite to cover my hand with hers.
“Not exactly.”
She raises her brow and squeezes my hand tightly as the front door chimes.
“I’ll get the door.” She walks toward the front of the house and turns to address me. “Are you here?” she asks, knowing that I frequently tell her to send people away.
“Yes,” I answer reluctantly. I know who’s outside my door.
I hear the door open and several voices outside. “We’re here to see Garrett Armstrong.”
Peggy gets flustered and escorts them toward the kitchen. Her eyes are now wide with worry. “Um, Garrett, the police are here to see you.”
Two uniformed police officers enter, followed by a woman dressed in plain clothes. Is she a detective? My heart jumps in my chest as the situation begins to feel more suspicious.
“Mr. Armstrong?” One of the police officers walks toward me, and I instinctively back up, defensive.
“Yes, how can I help you?”
“We were told that your friend, Heath Strickland, is also here. We’d like to question both of you regarding the death of Sadie Moore.”
Peggy quickly walks to the back door. “He’s out back. I’ll get him.” The look on her face indicates alarm and fear.
“I’m Officer Andrews and this is Officer Newman.” I nod toward the police officers and look at the woman behind them. “This is Nicole Thomas. She’s the social worker assigned to the case.”
Social worker?
Peggy and Heath return and introductions commence again.
“How did you gentlemen know Ms. Moore?” Andrews addresses both of us.
“Heath didn’t know her. I mean, he just met her today when she came to see me on our tour bus.”
“Okay, so how did you know her, Mr. Armstrong?” I don’t like his tone.
“She was a groupie. We met last year, and I hadn’t seen her since then until today.” I snap back at him.
“How did she know where to find you?” he asks.
“We’re on tour. It’s not hard to know where we are.” This guy is pissing me off. Peggy moves through the kitchen and gets my attention. Her eyes tell me all I need to see. She wants me to hold it together.
“Did you have a relationship with her?”
“No. Like I said, we met once last year. I never heard from her again until today.”
Newman steps forward. “We’re trying to understand what happened today. Ms. Moore entered your bus and then died of a drug overdose within minutes. We’d like to know how this happened and where she got her drugs from.”
“How can I possibly know that?” I practically shout. “I haven’t seen her since last year. We didn’t even know each other. It was a one-time hook-up.” I run my hand through my hair and try to regulate my breathing.
“So you never saw the drugs that she took? You didn’t share any with her? Are you willing to submit a urine and saliva sample for drug testing?”
What the fuck?
Suddenly Heath speaks up. “I don’t see the need for Garrett to submit any samples to you for drug testing. He wasn’t hanging out with her. When she barged onto our bus, she was already wasted.” He pauses. “Do we need to get a lawyer here? My father is the District Attorney, and I’m sure he’ll have some recommendations.”
What?
Andrews and Newman back down for the first time and relief floods my chest. “No. No need to call the D.A., I mean, your father,” Newman says. “I think we have what we need regarding Ms. Moore.”
“Can I speak to Mr. Armstrong now?”
I turn toward the voice behind me and the social worker, Nicole Thomas, walks past us into the kitchen.
“We’ll be outside,” Andrews huffs, and the officers leave through the front door.
“Is there someplace more comfortable we can go?” Her tone is much softer than the two police officers, but somehow more serious.
“The den is in here.” I lead her through the kitchen into an open space toward the back of the house. She sits in one of the oversized chairs and I sit on the large sectional couch.
“Are you aware that Sadie gave birth to a baby boy about two weeks ago?” she asks.
I want to lie to her. Tell her that I have no idea what she’s talking about. Tell her to leave my house immediately and never come back. But I see Peggy standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest. She can hear everything we’re saying, and I don’t want to lie in front of her. I can’t.
“Yes,” I say reluctantly and pull the crumpled birth certificate from my pocket.
“Sadie showed me this right before she…”
Nicole reaches out and looks at the birth certificate and nods. Her expression changes and she looks upset. Her eyes glisten, and she places the paper on the table in front of her. “I’ve been working with Sadie for a long time. She was a drug addict. As soon as she tested positive for drug use after she gave birth to Kai, I was called to intervene. She refused care and left the hospital shortly after he was born. He was very sick as you can imagine. He also tested positive for drugs and has been in the neonatal intensive care unit for the past two weeks.” She pauses and wrings her hands together.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I stand up and begin pacing back and forth. I feel every fiber from the rich rug beneath my still-bare feet. I imagine the carpet pulling me in, hiding me away. I need to escape.
“Kai has no one. He’s alone now.”
“What the hell do you want me to do about it?” I spit back at her. She can’t be thinking what I think she is.
“Please sit down. You’re making me nervous.”
I stop pacing and see that Peggy and Heath are huddled in the kitchen. I sink back onto the couch and throw my head back, exhaling deeply. I don’t want to hear what she has to say. I don’t want to know anything more about Sadie or Kai.
“Mr. Armstrong?” Nicole implores. “You need to hear me out.”
I lean forward, placi
ng my elbows on my knees so my hands can support my head. “Fine.”
“Sadie Moore is a product of the foster system. I’ve been her social worker since she was nine years old. Her biological mother was a drug addict and was incarcerated for possession with the intent to distribute. While she served a five-year sentence in prison, Sadie was placed in foster care. Her mother was released when Sadie was fourteen and wanted nothing to do with her. Her mom disappeared shortly after her prison stay, and we never heard from her again. Sadie remained in the foster system until she was eighteen and then was placed in a group home.” Nicole pauses and tears fill her eyes.
“I failed Sadie. I was supposed to help her and I failed. She followed in the footsteps of her mother and became an addict. That can’t happen to Kai. We can’t let that happen.”
I look up at her as she brushes tears from her cheeks. I feel the couch sink next to me and realize Peggy has joined us.
“What can we do?” Peggy asks.
Nicole looks surprised and focuses her gaze on Peggy. “I’m sorry, who are you?” she asks.
“Margaret Weston. I’m Garrett’s aunt. Everyone calls me Peggy.”
What? What is she doing? Why is she lying about being my aunt?
“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think my aunt has anything to add here.”
“I disagree,” Peggy states sternly. “Please continue with your story, Ms. Thomas.” She grabs my forearm and holds tight, her nails digging dangerously into my skin.
Nicole takes a deep breath and her eyes lock onto mine. “Sadie was a troubled girl, as you can imagine. She was in and out of juvenile detention centers throughout her teen years. It was hard keeping her in a good foster environment. She was very violent toward her caregivers and the state had a difficult time finding a foster home without any other children. Because of her violent disposition, they needed to place her alone. We tried everything and finally we thought we found the perfect home for her. This was just before her seventeenth birthday and she wanted nothing to do with it. She took off, and we lost track of her for close to a year. By the time we found her again, she was arrested for prescription drug fraud and placed again in a juvenile detention center. She was released a few weeks after her eighteenth birthday and put into a group home.”