by Trudy Stiles
Peggy approaches her and whispers something inaudible in her ear. She nods and stands up slowly. Peggy takes her seat and they expertly transfer the baby from her arms to Peggy’s.
She walks toward me, and her wide, blue eyes are the first thing I see. They pierce into my own and I feel a rush through my body. I don’t move as she approaches me, and she suddenly looks confused. Her lips move, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
“What?” I ask, too loudly, and I’m immediately shushed by Peggy.
“Hallway,” she says and walks past me.
I follow her and stop outside the door. She brushes against me as she reaches to pull the door closed. Her shirt shifts and I see cleavage. My pants stir and my fight-or-flight response takes over. She’s stunning. Tall. Athletic. Fucking hot. She can’t be the baby nurse.
She can’t be the fucking baby nurse.
“Hi,” she says in barely a whisper. “I’m Sam.”
She extends her right hand and I grab hold of it. Her cool, soft hand closes slowly around mine and she pumps up and down.
“Hi, Sam. I’m Garrett.” I’m lost in her eyes and I can’t stop shaking her hand. She blinks hard as if trying to snap me out of my temporary paralysis, and she snatches her hand away from mine.
“Let’s go someplace where we can talk,” she says as she brushes past me again. Her vanilla scent leads me. The only thing I want to do right now is pull her into my bedroom down the hall. Completely inappropriate response.
She walks past my room and down the front staircase. I suddenly forget about Peggy and the baby, and I pick up speed, bounding down the stairs two at a time.
She disappears into the library where I join her. She closes the door behind me and sits on the large leather sectional.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me. Now is your chance before things get really—hectic,” she says and crosses her legs. I notice she’s wearing tight yoga pants that are rolled at her hips. She has tiger-striped ankle socks on and a loose fitting V-neck tee-shirt. Her brown hair is long, past her shoulders and curly. Very curly.
“What?” I ask.
A look of disgust snaps me out of the fantasy I’m about to let play out in my mind.
“Questions. Now’s the time to ask because he won’t be asleep much longer.”
“I don’t think I have any,” I say and smile.
“Okay, so I guess I’ll start.”
She shifts on the couch, moving her legs so she’s sitting cross-legged.
“I’m Samantha Weston, Peggy’s niece. I’m a neonatal intensive care nurse, and I’ve seen all kinds of sick babies in my career. I’ve only been a practicing nurse for about two and a half years, but I’ve gained a ton of experience in that time. Your son, Kai, has Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome. As you know, he was exposed to a variety of illegal drugs and narcotic substances. The withdrawal from these drugs is causing him great distress.” She looks into my eyes and nods.
I nod back, letting her know that I’m listening. Reality is setting in as this gorgeous woman tells me all about my very sick son. I hear all of the words she’s saying very crisply, but her lips seem to move in slow motion. A weight begins to pull in my chest, and I lean back in the wing chair that I’m currently sitting in.
“Stop,” I say, and she looks confused. “I don’t think I can hear any more of this.”
“Mr. Armstrong, you have to hear it. Because you’re about to live it.”
She tells me all about his feeding and other issues that he has. His high-pitched crying is mentioned again, and I don’t understand why this is so important that both she and Peggy have mentioned it multiple times. She explains that the best care for him right now is tactile care. We need to be very hands-on and let him know that someone is always close. Swaddling him tight is also important so he feels safe. What’s swaddling?
When Peggy talked me into this situation, I didn’t expect that I’d need to be hands-on. Why did I hire Sam to begin with if she’s going to expect me to be involved?
“I think there’s some mistake,” I interrupt her again, and she shoots me the same disgusted look she did just minutes ago.
“I’m sorry?” she asks.
“When I agreed to do this, Peggy assured me that you would have everything under control. I wasn’t expecting to be too involved.”
I’m glad I got that off my chest. I hope this clears the air.
She stands up and walks toward me. “Are you kidding me?” She scowls and now I can see the resemblance to Peggy. She smirks and says, “Let me get this straight. You thought that Peggy agreed to let me do everything while you ignored the fact that you have a son upstairs who needs his father?” Her arms are folded across her chest.
“Well, the way you say it makes me sound like an ass. But yeah, I didn’t expect that I’d be involved in Kai’s rehabilitation. I just found out about him the other day. I’m no more of a father than you are a mother.”
Wow, now I sound like a complete asshole.
Her face contorts and her cheeks turn bright red. “Mr. Armstrong, I swear to God, you’re lucky that I love my aunt more than life itself because—”
A piercing scream comes from behind her, and she turns quickly to grab what looks like a walkie-talkie from the couch. She turns the volume down, but the screams are high-pitched, sharp and shallow.
“What the hell is that?” I ask as dread sets in.
“That’s your son, Kai.” She opens the library door and darts up the stairs.
I remain glued to my seat as his cries travel down the stairs and pierce through my heart. He sounds like he’s in so much pain, like he’s being stabbed over and over again. It’s the most awful sound I’ve ever heard. Worse than hearing my own mother cry.
My son is crying and I’m powerless.
Sam
Past
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 15
“SAM, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Cassie’s voice rattles through my head as I pull the phone away from my ear.
“My Dad is going to take me to the party after dinner.” I pause and wonder what the important discussion they need to have with me is all about. When I got home from school today, there was a note on the board from my mother.
Don’t go anywhere tonight until your father and I
have had the chance to talk to you.
No worries – it’s all good! See you for dinner!
X’s & O’s
~ Mom~
“What time will you be done?” she whines, and I know she’s excited about tonight. Brad Mitchell is going to be there and Cassie has a huge crush on him. “What are you wearing?”
“Dinner should be ready in about five minutes, and I’m wearing a bathing suit, you dope. It’s a pool party.” I shake my head as I hold up the striped bikini that my mother says reminds her of some chewing gum she loved when she was younger. Fruit Stripes, I think.
“What are you wearing over your bathing suit? I need help accessorizing! Ugh!” She’s frantic, and I know what my closet would look like if she were actually here getting ready with me.
“My white pullover and platform Steve Maddens.”
“No! Absolutely not! The last time you wore those shoes, you wound up falling flat on your face in the mall. I cannot let you take your life into your hands like this. Please just wear flip-flops, or better yet, sneakers. You’re a klutz, Sam.”
I giggle and dismiss her worry. “Just stop. You know I only wear sneakers for gym.”
“It’s your funeral, sister. Now hurry up and eat and I’ll meet you there by eight!” She hangs up and I rush to get dressed. After putting on my bikini, I slip the white cover-up-dress over my head. It falls about mid-thigh, and once I step into my Steve Maddens, I’m almost as tall as my father. I arrange my curls to cascade around my face and grab my Chapstick. It drives Cassie nuts that I never wear makeup. I usually only use Chapstick and sometimes mascara for a special occasion.
“Sam, dinner’s rea
dy!” Mom calls from the bottom of the stairs. I start to move toward the door when I slip and almost turn my ankle. I chuckle out loud and slide out of my shoes, bending down to swipe them from the floor.
“I think I’ll carry you guys downstairs instead of walking, okay?” I say out loud to my favorite shoes.
By the time I reach the kitchen table, my parents are already seated and have our meals dished out. It’s my favorite. My father’s ‘special’ chicken, steamed veggies and fresh berries. My parents have always insisted on a colorful plate full of food, no matter what meal it is. He’s been making this chicken for me ever since I was a little girl. I’ve always called it Daddy’s Special Chicken when I know that it’s really just breaded chicken cutlet. He loves making it for me, and I ate it practically every night for dinner for several years. I will never tire of it.
“Wow, dinner smells great,” I say and slide into my chair.
Mom and Dad have smiles ear-to-ear and I can’t imagine what has them so excited tonight.
“Okay, you guys look weird. What’s going on?” I ask as I cut into the first piece of chicken and chew it. It’s so good. It begins to melt in my mouth, and I savor the flavor from the breadcrumbs. “Can you pass the barbecue sauce?” Another one of my favorites.
My mother slides it across the table, and she drops her fork next to her plate.
“Your father and I have some really exciting news,” she says and can’t contain herself.
I look back and forth between them and my father’s eyes light up even brighter.
“You do?” I ask. “Don’t leave me hanging! What is it?”
Mom takes a deep breath and her eyes glisten a little.
“We haven’t said anything at all because at first, we weren’t sure. But it happened, and now we’re thrilled and we just can’t believe it!” She’s all over the place, and I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“What happened?” I ask and dunk a piece of chicken into the barbecue sauce and pop it in my mouth.
“Sam, we’re going to have a baby,” my father interrupts, and I practically choke.
“What?” I ask as I gulp down my chicken.
“Yes! I’m pregnant,” my mother exclaims, and I stare between the two of them and wonder how this is even possible.
“A few years after you were born, we tried for another and were told that I couldn’t have any more children. The doctors did everything they could, and we even went through fertility treatments. Nothing worked, so we decided we were happy with the family we had.”
I never realized any of this, and I suddenly feel sorry for my parents for what they went through when I was little.
“So about two months ago, I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t think anything of it. I thought it was the flu or something like that.”
I remember her being sick for a few weeks and she was constantly in the bathroom throwing up. I was thankful for not catching it. Now I know why I didn’t.
“Mom, Dad, this is so cool.” I think?
“Oh Sam, this is amazing! When I finally went to the doctor, he told me I was pregnant. We couldn’t believe it. We’d suffered from secondary infertility for so many years and we just never thought it would happen. We never expected this, but we’re so happy!”
“It’s going to be an adjustment for us,” my father pipes in. “We realize we aren’t in our twenties or thirties anymore. With your mom turning forty this year, we’re going to have to watch her closely and make sure everything is progressing along normally and healthily.”
“Wow,” I say and take another bite of chicken. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“It’s too early to tell yet. We’ll know in ten or twelve more weeks,” my mom replies and takes a sip of water.
“Wow,” I say again. A baby?
“Cassie’s going to freak out when I tell her.” I laugh through chewing my food.
“Let’s wait a little longer before we tell anyone else, okay?” my father asks.
“Why?”
“Because we want to make sure your mom and the baby are doing alright. We have an appointment with the doctor again next week. Why don’t we see how that goes before we start sharing the news? We haven’t even told Aunt Peggy yet.”
“Okay.” Aunt Peggy is going to be so happy. She’s never been married nor has she had children of her own. She treats me like a daughter, and I know she’s going to love my little brother or sister just as much. I swish water in my mouth and look down at my plate. I’ve eaten all of the chicken and veggies without even realizing it. The fresh berries are left, and I scarf them down without saying another word.
“Are you okay, Sam?” my mother asks hesitantly.
“Yeah. Of course I am. I’m just—just a little surprised?” A lot surprised.
“So are we. Oh my God you have no idea!” Mom says.
“It certainly took us by surprise, but we’ve realized this is a gift, just like you were. We’re the luckiest parents alive.” My father reaches out and grabs my hand. “We were blessed with you, and now we’re all going to be blessed with this miracle.”
Tears well in my eyes unexpectedly. I squeeze his hand and look over at my mother, who is outright crying now.
“I can’t wait,” I say honestly. The joy in my parents’ eyes is infectious, and I can’t help but feel like this baby is going to bring so much more love into our house.
I finish my meal, listening to my parents talk about the renovations they are going to make to the guest room upstairs.
“I hope Aunt Peggy is going to be okay with giving up her space when she stays here.” I smirk, knowing how much she enjoys staying in the room next door to mine when she’s here.
“We’re going to renovate the first-floor library to add a day-bed for guests. Since there’s a bathroom off of that room, it will be like her own suite when she’s here,” my father says.
Aunt Peggy only lives about forty-five minutes from us as it is. She’s so busy with the family that she works for, she barely spends any time in her own home.
I look at the clock, and my dad says, “We can be ready to leave in about twenty minutes. Is that good for you?”
“Yes. Cassie was very specific that I should meet her at the party by eight. Her mom is picking us up by midnight and we’re sleeping at her house.”
“You’re not wearing those shoes, are you?” my mother asks, looking toward my Steve Maddens that I dropped next to my duffle bag near the center island in the kitchen.
“Yes I am. And I promise I’ll be careful.”
My father chuckles and says to my mom, “We’ve heard that before, Klutzy-McGee.”
My mother chuckles and I roll my eyes.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, we pull up in front of Trisha O’Toole’s sprawling estate. There are cars parked along the circular driveway, and the backyard is lit up like a baseball stadium, music blaring.
“Her parents are home, right?” my father asks, skeptical.
“Yes, Dad.”
“I think I’ll come in and say hi to Mr. O’Toole. We’re supposed to be playing golf at the club tomorrow, and I want to confirm the time with him.”
“Ugh, Dad!” I know this is useless and he’s going to come inside with me anyway. He’s done this as long as I can remember, and I secretly like it. But since I’m a teenager, I need to give him a hard time whenever I can.
We get out of the car and walk into the grand foyer of the O’Toole’s house.
“Benjamin! So great to see you,” Mr. O’Toole’s voice booms. “Are you ready for the tournament tomorrow?”
“Of course I am. But if I remember correctly, you weren’t quite up to par the last time we played.”
Mr. O’Toole laughs at my dad’s pun and they walk toward his den.
“Have fun tonight, Sam.” Dad pulls me in for a hug. “Watch yourself in those shoes, please.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile confidently and walk, very deliberately, toward the back of the house.
I certainly don’t need to fall flat on my face, proving my father right. “Love you, Dad!” I call out before he’s out of sight.
I step onto the vast patio and see the party in full swing down by the pool house.
“Sammy!” Cassie shrieks and comes running up the lawn. “You’re here!”
I laugh as I walk slowly to meet her. “Take those shoes off this instant,” she scolds me and grabs my hand. “You look ah-mazing!”
“Thanks, Cass.”
“Your hair is so perfect tonight. What did you do to it?”
“I just added a little bit more shaping cream and let it air-dry longer than usual.”
“Brad better notice me tonight. You better not catch his eye!” She giggles and I know she’s totally kidding. I’ve seen Brad ogling her more than once, so I know she’s on his radar.
We reach the pool house and Trish runs to greet us. “Sam! So great you could come. My dad has been talking about playing golf with your dad all week.”
“Yeah, they’re up at the house right now strategizing.” I smirk and she hands me a drink.
“Shhh,” she says. “It’s just lemonade with a teeny tiny splash of citrus vodka.” She winks and I take the cup hesitantly.
“Your parents are here, Trish. You better not let this party get out of hand,” I say to her sternly, and she giggles out loud.
“Seriously, Sam. Lighten up.” She turns to the crowd around the pool and signals to the DJ to crank up the music. The three of us dance our way across the patio and I kick off my shoes. Just in case.
I take a sip of the drink Trish gave me and practically gag. I drop the cup in the first trash bin I can find. I’m no prude, but I know better than to drink something Trish O’Toole has made for me. Teeny tiny equals mostly vodka.
The night flies by and most of it I’m consoling Cassie. “I can’t believe he didn’t come,” she slurs and attempts to take another drink of Trish’s electric lemonade.
“That’s enough, my love.” I laugh and replace the cup with a bottle of water.
She squints and peers across the lawn. “Brad! Over here!” she says and waves her hands in the air. I look toward the patio and see Brad and his older brother.