Part Of The List

by Xavier Neal

  “What if she’s born with too many fingers? Or not enough toes? What if she has terrible eyesight like me? What if she has this impossible hair?” I point to the messy loose curls around my face. “What if she has a heart condition? Or her lungs fail? Or what if I can’t give birth to her? What if they have to cut me open and-”

  “Kenny,” Bailey sighs deeply from the edge of my pool chair. “I wasn’t in the water that long. There’s no possible way you managed to think of all of those things in the five minutes I stepped away.”

  “What if she doesn’t ever learn to swim?”

  His wet hand drops onto the one clutching my stomach. “What if she does? What if she turns out to be an Olympic Gold Medalist of swimming?”

  My eyes widen at the idea.

  “What if absolutely, nothing is wrong with her? What if she turns out to be exactly as perfect as I’ve spent over a decade imagining?” I relax against the chair and his hand grips mine tighter. “Because she’s going to be. With or without all her toes. With curly hair or no hair at all. She’s going to be perfect Kenny because she’s ours and I don’t know about you, but that’s all I need her to be.”

  There’s a small movement from inside my stomach against my hand. The unexpected action grabs a short gasp.

  “What?” He quickly asks. “Are you okay? Something wrong?”

  “I think she just kicked,” my voice quietly confesses, moving his hand to where mine just was. “Either I’ve had really bad indigestion or-” The sensation quickly repeats and I smile brightly.

  “She just kicked,” his trembling excitement flows through me. “Our baby just kicked…Holy shit, she just kicked!”

  “Don’t curse in front of her.”

  Instead of immediately reminding me there’s no way for her to actually know which words are ‘bad’ and which are good, he quickly apologizes to my bump. “Sorry, Emma. Mommy’s right. I shouldn’t curse in front of you.” He gives the spot she kicked a small kiss before whispering, “But if you’re anything like your aunt Emma, you’re going to be cursing before middle school.”

  I giggle and push at his shoulder. “Oh my God! What if you’re right! What if she’s kicked out of school for having a bad mouth? What if-”

  “You marry me,” he inserts an unpredicted finish.

  Completely blindsided I merely let my mouth hang open.

  Bailey leans over, reaches into the pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a surprise. “What if we get married before our vacation is over?” He pulls off the wrapper and lifts my left hand to slide the dark blue piece of candy onto it. “What if we go back home as husband and wife?”

  The ring pop sparkles like an actual diamond in the sunlight. Weakly, I object, “Bailey-”

  “I know,” he brushes it off. “I know you don’t want to get married just because we’re going to have a baby. I know you worry that’s all this is about because I agreed to marry the last girl I got pregnant. But Kenny, I never asked. I never got down on one knee. I never told her she meant the world to me. That there wasn’t a day in my life that passed without waking up to hopes of her.” Bailey slides off the edge of my chair onto one knee. “I know you probably want the whole big wedding and Thomas would kill me if I got married again and he wasn’t there, but let’s do it anyway. Let’s get married on the beach today at sunset, just you…me…and our ring pops.” His face tilts with longing. “Marry me now and we’ll put on a big show for everyone else later. Marry me today. The day our daughter first kicked…”

  I stare down at his golden complexion, glistening in the warm sunlight. This trip was supposed to be a ‘babymoon’. Just a little break from reality. Not that our reality is miserable together. No. Our reality is better than any dream I’ve ever dreamt. We both work from home, allowing our lunch breaks to be filled with sex and snuggles. We have a mutual respect when the passion of our projects pushes us into late nights. We laugh over old movies, attempt to bond over new music, and are always willing to find the middle ground for both of us to stand on. He hates green beans but is willing to eat them without complaining if I sauté them. I loathe canned corn, so he always grills corn on the cob. Karaoke night with Thomas and Tami drives us both insane, but we do it because spending time with our family is important. We’re determined to make things work between us through every course we have to take. This little beach adventure was just supposed to be a few days away from unanswered emails and endless trips to the hardware store. A weekend to reconnect and remember life outside of being a career building monster. A moment to stop before I miss too many things around me. This trip is basically Emma recommended and once our baby kicked, Emma approved. I didn’t expect for it to include us getting married, but I think it’s what both Emmas want. And I want it too.

  “Yes,” I state with genuine glee in my voice.

  His blue eyes become overwhelmed with joy. “Yes?”

  Nodding, I lean over to give him a soft kiss of reassurance. Our lips seal more than just together. They seal the inevitable fate that I will finally spend the rest of my life as Mrs. Cooper.

  Hours later, Dr. Phillips’ voice drags me away from the emails I tried to bury myself in. “Mrs. Cooper?”

  I quickly scramble to my feet, grab my bag, and rush over to him. “Everything okay now?”

  His brown eyes shift between being sympathetic and disconnected from the situation. It’s a look I imagine many doctors struggle with. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your husband’s condition is deteriorating. He’s now suffering from multiple organ failure and at this point, the only thing we can do is make him comfortable as he…”

  The phrase despite his hardest efforts gets caught in this throat. Without remorse, I push him to say it. Demand to hear the announcement of impending darkness coming to cloak my life. “As. He. What?”

  Dr. Phillips tilts his chin up in an attempt remain professional. “Dies.”

  I lift my trembling hand to my mouth to catch the sob.

  “The infection we treated a couple days ago, the one we believed had been taken care of, actually misled us. While the antibiotics did indeed help treat it there was an underlying infection, which was actually causing the secondary infection we were treating. The first one being masked by the second unfortunately gave it time to spread.”

  A tear falls yet I remain completely still.

  “I wish there was more we could do, but the truth is, your husband will most likely lose all brain function by the end of the night. I know this is difficult for you to hear and will be even more difficult of a message to convey with your loved ones. If you wish to have them say their final goodbyes while he has brain activity, I would suggest you have them to come up to do so within the next couple of hours. After he loses complete brain function, he will remain on the ventilator which will keep his heart beating until you make the decision to turn it off since you are his medical proxy.” Dr. Phillips glances down at the device on his hip. “I’m being paged.” He pulls his eyes back up to mine and finishes with, “Mr. Cooper is being moved to a different room as we speak. Nurse Janet will be over to provide you with that information shortly.” He extends his hand for me to shake. “I wish there was more I could do for your husband, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Absentmindedly, I let my hand gravitate to his and shake. Afterwards he quickly moves back the direction he came leaving me standing alone, paralyzed by fear and disappointment alike. Tears begin to blur my vision as my knees buckle from the weight of agony pushing down on me.

  How am I supposed to just say goodbye?

  Bailey

  There’s a nudge against my ribs and I groan through the discomfort.

  “Wake up,” Emma’s voice gently prods. “Wake up and tell me about when Em was born?”

  “You know. You were there…”

  My subconscious hits the same spot, but harder.

  “Ou.”

  “Tell me.”

  I barely lift my head from where it’s resting on my bent arms. “Sh
e was tiny. Five pounds. 4 ounces. Thought I was gonna break her when I held her in my hands. It reminded me of holding a very heavy football.”

  Before my eyes can completely shut again, she bumps into me once more. “How long was Kenny in labor?”

  “Twenty one hours. The longest twenty one hours of my life.” I twitch a smile. “Or at least my conscious life.” I give Emma a sarcastic smirk. “I hated seeing Kenny in pain and so miserable with nothing I could do about it. I hated feeling so…”

  “Helpless,” Emma whispers in my ear. “Just like you’re feeling now.”

  “Basically.” Another groan leaves me. “Maybe if I just get some rest. If I get some rest I can…I can figure out how the hell to stop my body from failing. From just…giving up…”

  My body attempts to relax again, which is when she slugs me in the shoulder.

  “Ou! What the hell, Emma?”

  “Don’t close your eyes yet,” she scolds. “Don’t drift off again. Not before you tell me how we got here.”

  “I don’t know.” I toss a hand in the air. “We flew? Or did we bike? Maybe we took a train-”

  “No you moron. Not here,” her hand waves around at the disappearing cave walls, “but here. How’d you end up in a coma?”

  “My father hit me in the head with a brick. Or at least I assume it was brick. Could’ve been a rock. Whatever it was he hit me with it. Repeatedly. Pretty cut and dry.”

  All of a sudden her face leans too close to mine. “Or is it?”

  “They’re your baby pictures,” my mother sighs deeply from the other end of the phone. “And Jess’ too. I didn’t get them when I first moved out and after all that because well… you know your father. I wasn’t allowed to step foot back onto the property.”

  I drop the screw driver I had been using. “So why his sudden change of heart?”

  “Not exactly a change,” she mumbles. “He’s sold the house. Everything has to be moved out by the end of the week, but he’s having the movers come tomorrow for the stuff he plans to take to the ranch. He told me I could have whatever I wanted out of the shed as long as I grabbed it today because after the movers tomorrow he’s having some people take the rest of the things to the dump.”

  I drop down onto the futon.

  “I’m only asking you to grab them because you’re closer and if I have to wait until I get off, which is about the time he gets off, I’ll probably never see those photos again.”

  My hand scrubs the side of my face in discomfort. She’s not the only one who hasn’t seen that bastard in years. At least her goodbye wasn’t accompanied with a set of bruised ribs. It was a sucker punch. And it was the only one he got in before I left.

  “Please,” she begs softly. “Imagine how you’d feel if all of your baby pictures of Em were trapped just out of your reach.”

  The low blow causes me to cave. “Fine. I’ll swing by in a few to grab them. But I don’t have to deal with him, right?”

  “No. He told me he left a key under the rock and to make sure he didn’t see my ‘spic loving face or have him step anywhere near the hard earned white man’s house.”

  “Sounds like good ol’ dad,” I mutter. “I’ll grab ‘em and bring ‘em by after dinner.”

  “Or you and my daughter in law could bring my beautiful little granddaughter to our house for dinner. Jose’s making pork carnitas. You know they’re Kennedy’s favorite.”

  Twice baited and twice taken. “Fine. If Kenny is up for dinner out, we’ll come by. She’s been fighting a stomach bug this week, so don’t be surprised if it’s just me and Em.”

  I imagine she smiles wide thankful to have any part of our family even if it’s not all of us. “Sounds good. Call me back and let me know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you, Bailey.”

  “Love you too, mom.” After ending the call, I linger on the futon for another minute.

  He won’t be home. It’ll be fine. I’ll use the side gate. I won’t even walk through that house.

  With a deep exhale, I make my way out of the garage and almost run right over Em. “Whoa! Where do you think you’re going like a bird with brand new wings?”

  She giggles and wiggles her tiny paint covered fingers up at me. “To wash my hands.”

  “Were you painting?”

  “Yes…”

  “Does Mommy know you were painting?”

  She giggles again. “She was painting with me!”

  I let the corner of my lip tug upward. “What were you painting?”

  “A surprise,” Em says, snickering. “You love surprises!”

  From my four year old? Yes. From my parents? No. But as much as I don’t want to ever breathe near that house again let alone step near it, she’s right. If I didn’t have a phone full of Em’s pictures or have them plastered across my private Facebook page or hung in frames alongside me and Kenny, I would yearn to correct that. Be anxious to find a way to replace them. I get it from a parent’s perspective, which is something I’m relieved that despite his best efforts I get to say.

  I open the downstairs guest bathroom and let Em slip inside to wash away the purple creation on her hands. I love how much she loves that color just like her deceased aunt did. The two of us wash them together, her singing some hand washing song to theme of ‘Mulbery Bush’, something I’m sure she learned in her preschool class.

  Once we’re finished and the song is successfully stuck in my head, I lift her up into my arms, and ask, “Wanna go to abuela’s for dinner?”

  “Oooo,” she says with enthusiasm.

  Helplessly, I smirk. “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She claps as we arrive in the downstairs arts and crafts room where Kenny is screwing the lid back on jars of finger paint. “Mommy we’re going to abuela’s for dinner!”

  Kenny looks up at me with suspicion. “Oh we are? Did Daddy forget to tell me that?”

  There’s a hint of playfulness in her eyes that lets me know she’s not actually upset. She loves when Em gets time with any set of her grandparents, something she never had and something I wished I hadn’t. My mother’s parents passed away earlier, but my grandfather was even more hateful than his son. An actual Klansman. An actual lobbyist for bigotry and the abolishment of equal rights. A man who basically kept his wife on a leash. I didn’t understand most of what he used to ramble on about, but I knew from earlier on it didn’t feel good to hear. It didn’t feel right to believe. I’m glad I never understood his love of the confederate flag or what the symbol embroidered on his clothing meant until I was old enough to decide his hatred was wrong. That the KKK had harmed innocent people in their history. That they in deed weren’t a group for protecting some actual greater good, but slowing down the necessary progress for forward movement in this country. I remember when I was a little older and we’d leave his house in the country, the same one we moved away from when I was 4, we’d stop for gas, and my mother would insist we never repeat or think any of those hurtful things. I was thankful she limited how often we saw him outside of holidays. As I got older, I remember spending a lot of time wondering how my mother, my seemingly sweet mom, could marry into a family of such deep seeded loathing.

  “She just called,” I kindly inform. “You don’t have to go. I know you’ve been feeling a little sick lately. I told her that. She was fine if it was just me and the mini.”

  She offers me a smile of gratitude.

  “I do have to warn, Jose is making pork carnitas.”

  A delicious moan escapes her lips and the urge to consume her grows instantly. Always has. I like to imagine it always will. “Those are my favorite.”

  Emma wiggles out of my arms as I lean over to whisper my objection, “I thought I was your favorite.”

  “Different kind of favorite…” She whispers back against my lips. “But I’ll take that kind now…”

  The change in topic has me swallowing my own groan. I look down at our daughter who is dragging out coloring
books and ask, “Em, isn’t it nap time?”

  My daughter’s big blue eyes bulge up from the guilt of being caught.

  Kenny simply snickers and returns to putting away the supplies they used.

  “But Daddy…”

  “Nap,” I reiterate, thankful for the timing. “And if you can take one like a big girl without complaining, I’ll take you to the park when you get up.”

  “Okay!” She squeaks before rushing past us, dragging Mr. Beary with her.

  With her out of ear shot, I quietly state, “I’m going to put her down and you’re going to go get naked for me.”