by Trudy Stiles
Garrett’s eyes focus on the lump of baby under the blanket. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” he asks. He doesn’t sound all pervy, and for the first time I notice he’s not trying to undress me with his eyes.
“Body warmth. It’s called the Kangaroo Method. Skin-on-skin contact helps soothe him,” I whisper. Kai stiffens, and I immediately hum into his ear. Once he’s relaxed again, Garrett asks another question.
“Why the humming? It doesn’t sound like music. It’s like a pattern?”
“It causes deep reverberations in my chest and it calms him down.”
He looks amused. “Kind of like when my mother says she ran the vacuum cleaner when I cried as a baby?”
I surprise myself with a smile and nod. “Yes.”
“Oh,” he says and continues to stare at his son. He’s fixated on the thick tuft of black hair that sticks straight out in all directions. Most days, Kai looks like a mad scientist.
“Why is he in so much pain?” he asks softly. His eyes are heavy and sad.
I’m taken a little off-guard by his questions. And I’m stunned by his sudden concern for his son. He’s never shown any interest in Kai, and it surprises me that he’s asking these relevant questions. I’m not sure he’ll be happy with the answers, but I give him the most honest responses.
“When he was in his mother’s body, drugs passed into his system. He was exposed to them for a long time when she was using during her pregnancy. He needed those drugs when he was born, but they weren’t there anymore. He’s withdrawing, just like an adult addict would do.”
He nods in understanding and leans back further on the bed.
I rock Kai silently and treasure the peace that I feel throughout his body. He’s reacting differently today. Every time he hears Garrett’s voice, he sinks further into my chest. How can he know who Garrett is?
Garrett hasn’t been this close to his son since the first day Kai came home. Maybe it’s the tone of his voice that’s soothing? Or the tenor?
“He’s reacting to your voice,” I say and lift the blanket slightly so he can see how relaxed Kai is against my chest. His tiny hands fall at my sides and his cheek is glued to my skin just above my heart. Garrett eyes his son and raises his eyebrow.
“You know you’re not wearing a shirt, right?” he says, and I feel warmth spread through my entire body. I’m blushing everywhere. My cheeks flush. I lower the blanket over Kai so as not to wake him, at the same time covering myself. Thank God I’m wearing my sports bra.
I’m mortified.
“Please leave,” I say, completely embarrassed.
What the hell was I thinking?
Garrett smiles and pulls a pillow out from behind him. He lies down on his side, tucking his hands underneath. The reflection from the stars on the ceiling catches his eyes just right. They’re dark and soft and, for once, not angry or aloof. And for first the first time, I can’t help but notice how strikingly handsome he is. His eyes are framed by the longest, thickest lashes I’ve ever seen on a man. His face is perfect and smooth, like he just shaved five minutes ago. His lips part slightly, and I suddenly realize he’s caught me staring.
I blush again and look away from him and focus on the mobile hanging above the crib. Soft instruments dangle above the bedding. Aunt Peggy insisted on a musical theme for Kai’s bedroom, for obvious reasons.
Garrett doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave.
“How long will he be like this?” His interest appears genuine, and I want to help him understand Kai’s health situation as best as I can. I guess now is as good a time as any. Tomorrow, he may go back to ignoring the fact that his son is now living under his roof.
I sigh heavily, knowing the reality I’m about to share is likely going to send Garrett running. Again. “It could be up to six months or more. I’ve seen babies get better sooner with early intervention.”
“Like what you’ve been doing with Kai?” he asks.
“Yes.”
His face looks drawn and worried. I realize that I may be scaring him with some of the worst-case-scenario stuff, and I try to shift the vibe in the room.
“With this type of care and comfort, I’ve seen symptoms gradually decline over a shorter time period.” Best case scenario.
“So you’re doing the right thing for him?”
“Absolutely,” I say confidently.
“What do you think he’s going to be like?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he’s older? Will he need special care? Or special schools?”
“Every baby with NAS is different. Some have a really rough start and gradually get better and can function normally throughout their lives. Others need constant care and therapy. Some are in between. There’s really no clear outcome.” It’s hard to describe the spectrum of problems that an NAS baby may have.
He looks even more drawn and says, “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Do what?”
“What you’re doing. I don’t think I have it in me to be like you.”
I’m surprised he’s even thinking about taking care of Kai. It tells me that he’s contemplating his options and that maybe, just maybe, he actually cares.
“Every living person has the capacity to provide care for another; some people just have to dig deeper than others to find it.”
“I respectfully disagree,” he says, shaking his head.
“Then we agree to disagree,” I reply.
“Why are you doing this for me?” he asks, quickly changing the subject.
“I’m doing this for Kai, not you. And because I love my aunt.” I state simply.
Raindrops begin to pelt the window behind me and then they pick up speed. Garrett takes a deep breath but doesn’t move. He’s looking between me and his son, and a strange expression comes over his face. It’s a weak smile that’s a mix of contentment and worry. I can tell the questions he asked me tonight have been bothering him, and he looks like he’s formulating the next one. Our silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable, but something hangs in the air between us that I can’t grasp.
“Your aunt is a wonderful woman. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” He stretches his legs out and tucks the pillow tighter under his cheek. “When I’ve been home, I can’t think of a time when she didn’t have my life in perfect order.”
“Even down to a sock drawer,” I say, and he immediately nods his head in agreement. I know my aunt so well. She’s a perfectionist and everything has its place.
“Seriously, who knew you could fold socks that way?” he says and for the first time, I feel at ease with him, even though I wanted to pummel him when we met. His arrogance and ignorance were dumbfounding.
I suddenly feel the need to tell him. “Why were you such a jerk?”
I can tell he’s taken off guard by my question, because the comfortable smile that was on his face disappears.
“I was afraid, Sam.” He pauses to clear his throat. “I am afraid.”
How can I go from contempt to caring? I was so angry with him during his absence that I prepared an epic speech, ready to chastise him and his terrible choices. I planned to eviscerate him with my words, tear him down so he could feel small and insignificant. I was so angry with him for abandoning his son. And suddenly, I empathize with him and his fear. He’s as ill prepared for this as any unsuspecting bachelor would be.
“I need your help,” he says.
“I am helping, Garrett. This is what I do.”
“No, I mean, I need you to teach me how to do all of this.” His eyes are pleading and his voice is soft. I’m shocked by his request and proud of him at the same time. Why the sudden change of heart?
“Of course I can teach you, but you’d be surprised how much of it you’ll do naturally. Instinct takes over and you suddenly know how to parent.”
He lets out a soft breath. “Again, we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. I have no instincts, and a few weeks ago, I didn’t want anything to
do with being a parent.”
“And now you do?” I ask as I hope this is a legitimate breakthrough. “What made you suddenly decide to try?”
“My mom and dad.”
“Really?”
“They told me Kai deserves a normal and healthy life. I think I want to give that to him.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“I haven’t been around much lately because I’ve been staying with my parents. I had to tell them about Kai and what was going on, and I wanted to do that in person. After I came home, and met Kai for the first time, I went back to their house. I tried to hide down there. I was afraid to come back.” He looks ashamed and my heart tugs. That explains why he hasn’t been around.
“But you came back,” I state.
“My mother’s very convincing,” he whispers.
“Garrett, if you want to do this, you have to be all in. Do you think you can do that?”
“I have to, don’t I?”
I nod slowly and close my eyes. “Why don’t you sleep on it and tell me in the morning if you want to begin baby boot camp.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he says and stretches comfortably. His eyes become heavy and he sighs deeply.
I also feel sleep pulling me deep, and I don’t fight it. I take it when it comes as infrequently as that may be.
WHEN I WAKE UP, KAI IS STILL MIRACULOUSLY ASLEEP, molded into my chest. He draws from my warmth so he can recharge.
My heart sinks when I see that the day-bed is empty and Garrett is gone.
Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 26
I WAKE UP FULLY CLOTHED. Watching Sam sleep with my son on her chest last night was oddly soothing. I’ve never witnessed tenderness like that before. My mother was always loving and giving with me. But Sam has something more. A gift.
When I watched her with Kai as he screamed and wailed, she never looked stressed or tense. I was balling my fists, hiding in the corner of the room, wincing from the pain from Kai’s agonizing cries. But Sam was an expert. She cradled him like he was her own. He fit against her chest like he belonged there and it was the safest place he could be.
A picture of Sadie fills my brain as anger fills my chest. How could she do this to herself? To her unborn child? I’ve never seen anyone experience pain like this little boy is going through. And I’m helpless, unable to do anything. I’m afraid of hurting him more than he’s already hurting. I imagine the calluses on my fingertips caused by my guitar strings like daggers cutting through his skin, eliciting shrill cries.
A phone rings from my nightstand, and I answer it without looking. It’s probably my mother checking in to be sure I arrived home safely. I’ve been spending a lot of time at my parents’ home in North Carolina, mostly feeling sorry for myself and avoiding the responsibility that’s right down the hall.
“Hello,” I say groggily.
“Hello?” An unfamiliar male voice is on the other end. I hold the phone away from my face so I can see the Caller ID and realize I’m not holding my phone. It’s in a pink case. Nope, not my phone.
“Who is this?” I ask, realizing I must have swiped Sam’s phone by mistake when I left the nursery last night.
“Is this Samantha Weston’s number?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yes, who’s this?” I raise my voice and it surprises me.
“Tell her that Richard Jones called. I wanted to confirm our date for Friday night.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell her, Dick.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“Your name, it’s Dick, right? Richard, Rich, Dick?”
“Just tell her I called.” He hangs up, clearly flustered.
I hang up and instinctively erase any evidence of the call from the history. I don’t want her to see evidence of a missed phone call or anything from that guy. What’s wrong with me? I know I have absolutely no right doing this, and I don’t know why I even did. I have no control over Sam. But the sound of that dude’s voice annoyed me. I wonder if he’s her boyfriend. I hope not. Again, I have no right knowing.
I’m an ass.
I roll over and feel my own phone in my front pocket. I pull it out and see that I’ve missed three calls from my mother.
I hit her on speed dial and press the phone against my ear. “Garrett, I’ve been so worried,” she says instead of saying “Hello.”
“Hi to you too, Mom. I’m fine.”
“We had such terrible thunderstorms that I thought your flight would be delayed.”
“Nope, I made it out just in time. It was a quick, uneventful flight.”
“Please don’t come home again,” she says sternly.
“What?” I ask as my heart leaps out of my chest. Why would she say that?
“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, like I told you the other night, you need to focus on your son. You need to bond with him. He needs you.”
When I was home, she lectured me the best way she knew how and tried to get me to see what a gift I’ve been given. I admitted that I’ve been avoiding this situation, and I do need to take responsibility, but I’m scared shitless.
“Do as you’re told, Garrett.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Call me on Sunday and let me know how your week has gone. Your father and I would like to come up to meet our grandson at the end of the month. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” I say. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when they arrive. I wonder if Kai will be better.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” she says and hangs up.
I HAD A MEETING WITH THE BAND today and our management team to discuss plans for the upcoming album. We’re all dragging our feet in creating it, and the label is starting to put the pressure on. But we’re all so preoccupied, most of us can’t find the time. Dax has been aloof and is uncharacteristically avoiding us as much as possible. Tristan’s moving into a new house that he built about twenty minutes from here and has been too busy designing his “man cave.” Alex still writes for us, but he’s only sent lyrics to two songs and we need at least twelve. I can’t blame him; he and Tabby built a house in the same neighborhood as Tristan, and they’ve got two kids. The only one who’s doing anything is Heath. He says he’s written lyrics to a couple of songs and is anxious to get tracks laid for them.
So basically, getting us all in the same room to nail down a solid schedule is like herding cats.
I arrive home shortly after eight and the house is dark. Sam must be asleep with Kai already. I notice Peggy’s car is still here and wonder if everything is okay. She’s almost always gone by dinner time.
I follow a dim light through the kitchen and into the den. Peggy is reclined in the leather chair, holding Kai against her chest. Thankfully, her shirt is securely on. I couldn’t imagine walking in on her with a bare chest practicing the Kangaroo Method.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Hi, Garrett. Yes, everything’s fine. Sam needed a break, so I’m taking over for a few hours.”
I’m suddenly jealous, and I have no right to be. “Where is she?” I’m hoping she’s not with Dick.
“Out there.” She nods toward the backyard where the indoor pool is.
“By herself?” I ask nonchalantly as I walk to the window and see the glow from the pool.
“Of course,” she answers. “Who would she be out there with?” Good.
I casually peer out the window to see if I can catch a glimpse of her. “I don’t know, her boyfriend maybe?” Why did I say that?
Peggy laughs and shakes her head. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, hasn’t for a long time.” She furrows her brow and looks pensive. “I think it’s about time she found one. She deserves a nice boy who will take good care of her. She has so much love to give. It’s such a shame she doesn’t open herself up to the possibilities.” She smiles and rubs Kai’s back. He stretches and sighs, sinking deeper into a restful
slumber.
“How is he?” I ask.
“He’s had a good day today. One of his best days yet. He’s been able to eat four ounces of formula at a time, which is a miracle.”
“Four ounces doesn’t seem like a lot,” I say, worried that he’s not eating enough.
“Oh, it’s a lot for him. His sick little tummy can’t take too much food at once. It’s very painful for him. In addition to his other issues, he has GERD, which triggers acid reflux as well as other painful gastrointestinal disorders. Typically, he can only drink two to three ounces at a time. But today, he graduated to four without much fuss. So it’s definitely a good day.”
“Wow, I had no idea.” Every time I ask about his condition, I learn something new. It’s overwhelming and I can’t keep it all straight. There are so many things wrong with him, it pains me to think about it.
I look back out to the pool house and notice that the overhead lights are off, but the underwater lights are on. It looks peaceful and quiet out there, and I wonder what Sam is doing. Steam rises from the water, glowing from the dim lights in the pool.
A long, lean figure floats into view, and I see her. Her face is barely exposed to the air above, and her arms are floating weightlessly, stretched out to the side.
“Is she okay?” I ask Peggy, but I can’t take my eyes off of the beauty that’s emanating from my pool.
“She’s fine. It’s what she does to relax,” Peggy responds.
“Really?” I ask as I continue to watch her drift slowly through the water. She looks completely relaxed and I’m jealous.
“I secretly think it’s how she connects with her parents.”
“What?” I ask, her comment piquing my interest.
“Sam almost drowned in her pool when she was seven. Her dad saved her life. Soon after, he insisted that she get proper swim lessons and he hired an instructor. She learned how to stay calm which helped her conquer her fear of the water. She learned that floating on her back will get her out of any scary situation in the water. Now she floats for therapy and relaxation.”