by Sera Trevor
Noah tried a smile. He didn’t feel heroic.
“What’s her prognosis?” Zeke asked.
Dr. Ling frowned. “It’s hard to say. A lot will depend on the next week. We’ve put her in an induced coma to give her brain time to heal.”
An induced coma. That felt less final than a natural one. “When will you bring her out of it?”
“That depends on how she does. I don’t want to say she’s out of the woods yet, but I’m hopeful that she will survive.”
“How hopeful?” Zeke asked.
“Sixty percent. Those are good odds for what she’s been through.”
Which meant there was a forty percent chance she would die. Noah felt dizzy. And ‘survival’ was not always a perfect happy ending. He’d seen enough in oncology to know that. “What kind of damage will she have?”
“She could have deficits in mobility, memory loss, speech difficulties, cognitive decline, and personality changes.” She opened her arms. “Or she could recover completely. I’ve seen stranger things. Brain injuries are unpredictable.”
Noah rubbed his temples. He would take care of her, somehow. What he was worried about was how she would feel. She was already so depressed. Which led his mind to a question he’d been meaning to ask. “Dr. Ling, my sister has a history with drug use. Do you think that it contributed to the aneurysm?”
Dr. Ling rubbed her chin. “I suppose we can’t rule it out entirely, but it doesn’t seem likely to me.” She gave him a kind look. “I know it’s tempting to look for reasons when things like this happen, but most of the time, we just don’t know. Was she in treatment for her drug use?”
Noah and Zeke exchanged glances. “In and out,” Noah said. “But she was doing better recently.” He bit his lip. “Were there any drugs in her system? Dr. Varma said he’d run a test.”
Dr. Ling picked up her chart and looked through it. “Yes, here it is. The tests were negative.”
Noah breathed a sigh of relief, but the relief was followed by a wave of guilt. She’d been telling the truth. What if their last conversation was him accusing her of using drugs, and she died thinking he didn’t trust her? Guilt crashed over him again, stronger this time. He shoved it from his mind. He didn’t have the luxury of self-pity.
Neither Zeke nor Noah spoke after the doctor left. What was there to say? Eventually, Zeke stood. “I should get back to the shop. I can come back around dinner, so you can go home.”
Noah wanted to protest, but he should take a break. Besides, Oscar would kill him. “Thanks.”
After Zeke was gone, a delivery person came up with a bouquet. He looked at the card. They were from Carmen and Miguel. They’d even remembered that daisies were her favorite. Carmen always said it stood to reason that if Noah was their son-in-law, then Rebecca must be their daughter-in-law. He smiled. He would thank them later.
His smile faded quickly. Would there be more daisies soon, for her funeral? He buried his face in his hands.
The curtain drew back. Lisa had returned. “How you holding up, honey?”
“Not good.” He rubbed his face. “I don’t know how you do it. I could never cut it in ICU.”
She snorted. “You’re in oncology. That’s not exactly a walk in the park either.”
“Yeah, but I can talk to my patients. See what I can do to help.”
“You can talk to her,” Lisa said gently.
Noah looked at her, with her tube and wires, her eyes taped shut. “I guess I could.”
Lisa patted his shoulder again. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
When she was gone, Noah took Rebecca’s hand in his. “Hey, Becks. I’m here.” He searched for something else to say. “Do you remember when I broke my leg that one summer? Mom had to practically chase you from my bedside. Most kids your age would have gotten bored, but not you. You never wanted to leave me.”
Tears pricked his eyes. He wiped them away before they could fall. “You deserve better than me, Becks. But if you wake up, I’ll be better. I swear it.”
The smell of tomato sauce and meatballs wafted into Noah’s nose as he walked in the door.
“In the kitchen!” Oscar called.
Oscar was standing at the stove, stirring a pot. Bette was in her ExerSaucer, batting at her toys. She smiled and waved her arms when she saw Noah.
Noah lifted her up and held her to his chest. Instantly, his tension melted. “Hi, baby girl. Daddy missed you.” She squirmed and babbled. Nothing was as sweet as the babble of babies.
Noah took Bette over to Oscar and kissed his cheek. “Smells good.”
“Thanks. It’s good old-fashioned store-bought sauce, with authentic frozen meatballs. I slaved over it.”
“I can tell.”
Oscar lowered the burner to a simmer and turned around. “Put that baby down so I can give you a real kiss.”
Once Bette was securely strapped in her highchair, Noah melted into his husband’s arms. Oscar held him for a long time. “Dumb question, but how are you feeling?”
Noah pulled away. “Tired. Numb.”
“Hungry, hopefully?”
“Not really. But I’ll try to eat.”
“You’d better. If my mom hears that you aren’t eating, she will straight up stalk you.” Oscar grabbed a jar of baby food and a bib from the cabinet and handed them to Noah. “Why don’t you feed her while I finish dinner?”
Noah put Bette’s bib on her and sat down beside her. He scooped out the green goop from the jar. It was disgusting, but he feigned enthusiasm. “Mmm, peas!”
Noah got a few spoonfuls in her before she grabbed the spoon and stuck it in her mouth, gnawing on it. “I wonder when that tooth is going to come in.”
“Soon, I hope.” Oscar brought the plates to the table. In spite of his earlier protestations, a wave of hunger hit him. He dug in.
Oscar waited until Noah was nearly finished before speaking. “What you told me on the phone sounds kind of encouraging.”
Noah just stared at him. “Which part? The forty percent chance of death, or the possibility of life-long disability?”
Oscar waved his hand. “The sixty percent chance of living, and the possibility she’ll recover! I mean, it seems like the doc thinks there’s a good chance.”
Noah set down his fork. He didn’t feel like eating anymore. “When did you become an optimist?”
“Since you became a pessimist,” Oscar shot back. “Come on, babe,” he continued, softer. “I know it sucks. And you know me. I hate sugarcoating. But coating stuff with shit is just as dumb.”
Noah crossed his arms over his chest. He had a point. “I don’t want to hope. I feel like I’ll jinx it.”
“So don’t hope. Just don’t drown in despair either, okay?”
Noah tried to smile. “Okay.”
Just as they finished dinner, the doorbell rang. Noah frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Alex. She wanted to come over.”
Noah chewed his lip. He didn’t know if he could take another conversation about Rebecca’s health. “I’m really tired.”
“She said it will be quick.”
Noah’s brow furrowed. “What will be quick?”
“Something about legal guardianship? She wanted to make sure you were all set up to take care of Rebecca on the legal side of things, in case—” Oscar cut off and rubbed his neck. “Well, just in case.”
Noah blinked. Somehow that had completely slipped his mind. “Oh. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Oscar lifted Bette out of her chair. “You wanna answer the door? I’ll get her cleaned up.”
Alex greeted Noah with a bouquet in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. She somehow managed to hug him even with both hands full. “I’m so sorry this is happening. You hanging in there?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Stupid question. Anyway, I’m here to help.”
“Thanks, Alex,” Noah said, taking the flowers. “I really appreciate it.” And he did. He was lucky to have so much support. Oscar was right. H
e had to fight despair, for Rebecca’s sake if not his own.
After Noah put the flowers in a vase, they sat down in the living room and went through the papers. He was so exhausted that it all seemed like gibberish. Alex walked him through it. Oscar came in with Bette when they were just about finished. He’d dressed her in her koala pajamas.
Alex nearly screamed. “Oh my God those are the cutest jammies I have ever seen!” She held out her arms. “Give me that baby. We’re just about done. Just initial where I’ve outlined.”
Bette went to her aunt happily. She made kissy faces at Bette until Noah was finished. “Here, I’ll trade you,” she said, holding out the baby.
Noah took Bette and handed Alex the paperwork. Alex flipped through it and then straightened it with a few taps. “We just need to get it notarized, and you’ll be all set. There’s just one more thing.” She pressed her lips together and looked back and forth between them. “You aren’t going to like it.”
Noah’s breath caught. He’d had so much bad news already. “What?”
“You really should notify your parents.”
Oscar responded first. “What? No way—no fucking way is he calling those assholes!”
Bette’s eyes went wide at her papa’s outburst. Her lip quivered. Noah held her close, shushing her as he tried to stave off his own unease. He thought he’d have a few days to decide.
Alex held her hands up. “I said you weren’t going to like it, but I don’t make the laws. You want to dot your i’s and cross your t’s with this kind of stuff. It can get ugly.”
Noah swallowed. “Is it possible they challenge me to get control of her?”
“They could try, but with the estrangement and the religious differences, I’m confident that a judge would find in your favor.” Alex tapped the paperwork. “Which is why you need to do this by the book. Don’t give a judge any excuses. You don’t have to call your parents if you don’t want. Certified mail would work fine too.”
Noah ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’ll call them. I’ve already been thinking about it.”
Oscar crossed his arms and stuck out his chin. “It’s a bad idea. Most likely, they don’t give a shit. And if it turns out they do? Do you really want to invite them to come fuck around in our lives?”
Irritation pricked at him. “You heard what Alex said. I don’t have a choice.”
Alex gathered the papers and stood up. “I’ll get out of here so the two of you can talk it out.” She narrowed her eyes at Oscar. “Which I am sure will be a calm, respectful conversation.”
Oscar looked sheepish.
Noah went to get Bette a bottle while Oscar saw Alex out. He settled into the rocker in the living room and fed Bette. He shoved all thoughts of his parents out of his mind and focused on his daughter. She looked up at him with wide eyes as she sucked, as if wondering if he was okay.
Oscar appeared. He sat down on the sofa and rubbed his neck. “Sorry about earlier. You’ve got a lot to deal with—you don’t need me yelling at you on top of everything.”
“You weren’t yelling at me,” Noah said. “You were yelling at the situation. I get it. But yeah, less yelling and swearing would be appreciated.”
Oscar leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “I just feel so fu— fudging useless.”
Noah snorted. “I know the feeling.”
Oscar sat up. “Are you going to call them?”
“Yeah.” He stroked Bette’s cheek with one finger. Her eyes fluttered shut as her sucking slowed down.
“But you told me that talking to anyone who’d been kicked out was an offense that could get them kicked out, too.”
“There’s some leeway with emergencies. And they can talk to Rebecca. She was never baptized, so it’s not as big of a deal.”
Oscar shook his head. “That’s pretty fudged up.”
“You’re telling me.” Bette’s mouth went slack. Noah pulled the bottle away. “She’s asleep.”
Oscar came over, arms outstretched. “Here, I’ll put her down.”
Noah handed her over. As Oscar took her upstairs, Noah remained in the chair, rocking absently as his eyes closed of their own will. He’d worked lots of late shifts over the years. He’d sat up with Bette for many sleepless nights. But none of those experiences could hold a candle to the bone-deep exhaustion that gripped him now.
He started when a hand touched his shoulder. “Hey,” Oscar said gently. “You should go to bed.”
Noah let Oscar lead him upstairs and sat on the bed obediently as Oscar took off his pants and shirt. Oscar tucked him into bed. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Noah smiled. “Yeah, I had a hunch.” He pulled Oscar down for a kiss. “I love you, too.”
Oscar obliged. “Get some sleep.”
Noah’s body was already ahead of him, shutting down whether he liked it or not. He hoped he wouldn’t dream.
Noah woke to sunlight in his eyes. He blinked sleepily, and then sat up abruptly. He glanced at the clock—it was 10 am. His chest tightened as thoughts raced through his mind—who was watching Bette? Had Oscar taken the day off again? Why hadn’t he woken him up? He needed to be at the hospital. What if something had happened with Rebecca—?
A vigorous shake of his head dislodged the chaos. First things first. Who was watching Bette?
Sounds filtered from downstairs. Bette babbling followed by Oscar talking. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and grabbed his robe before heading downstairs.
They were in the kitchen. Bette was in her ExerSaucer. She squealed when she saw him. Oscar was at the table, messing around on his phone. He stood up when Noah entered. “Hey, sleepyhead. You want breakfast?”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “You should have woken me up.”
“I talked to Zeke. He was there all night. No changes to her condition. She’ll be fine for a few hours. You can’t be there for her if you’re an exhausted mess. Eggs okay?”
Noah sat down and rubbed his face. “Sure.”
The eggs sizzled as Oscar poured them in the pan. “I have to go into work later, but I figured I’d take the morning off so that you could make your phone call.”
Noah’s stomach churned. “Yeah, okay. Good idea.”
Oscar finished up Noah’s breakfast, scrambled eggs with toast and a cup of coffee. The thought of talking to his parents killed his appetite, but he tried to eat anyway. Oscar was right. He’d need his strength.
He managed to eat about half of it. “Well, I guess there’s no sense in putting it off. I’ll call them now.”
Oscar kissed his cheek. “Good luck.”
Noah went upstairs, took his phone from the nightstand, and sat on the bed. He shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself. It didn’t work. His heart was still hammering. Was their number even the same?
Only one way to find out.
The phone rang four times. He was about to give up when someone picked up. “Henderson residence.”
His mother. It had been years since he’d heard her voice, always so soft, so quiet. “Hey, Mom.” His own was shaking.
A pause. “Noah?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What’s happened?” An edge of alarm.
How did she know? But of course, Noah wouldn’t be calling her unless it was an emergency. “It’s Rebecca. She had a brain aneurysm. She’s in a coma.” His voice broke. “They aren’t sure she’s going to make it.”
“No!” she cried. “Not my baby!”
Tears fell down his cheeks. She still cared. He inhaled sharply, pulling himself together. “I don’t know if you want to come—”
“Of course we’ll come,” she interrupted, but stopped short. “Well, I’ll have to ask your father.”
And that was the real question. His mom might still care, but Dad was another story. “There’s something else you should know. I’ve applied for guardianship of Rebecca while she is unable to make decisions for herself. I’m require
d to inform you.”
“I’ll tell your father. What’s your number? I can call you after he’s made his decision.”
Noah gave it to her. “There’s something else you should know.” He felt like he’d throw up, but if they were coming, he had to tell them. “You have a granddaughter. She’s six months old.”
“A granddaughter?” She sounded confused. “Have you gotten married?”
Noah clenched a fist. “Yes. You know that.”
“I mean really married. To a woman.” Her voice was colder now.
His face heated in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “No, I’m still married to him.”
“So the child is adopted.”
“No. We used a surrogate.”
“Who’s the real father?”
“I donated the sperm,” he said. “My husband’s sister donated the egg. But we’re both the real father, and I’m really married. His name is Oscar and your granddaughter is named Bette, and I love them both with all my heart. If you don’t want to meet them, that’s fine. I just thought you should know.”
A long pause. “Mom?” Noah said after a while. “Are you still there?”
“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” She hung up before he could say goodbye.
Noah dropped the phone on the bed and pressed his fingers on his eyes, willing any tears away. He couldn’t break down. He had too much to do.
The bed dipped beside him. Oscar. “So are they coming?”
“I don’t know. She has to talk to my dad.” Noah paused. “I told her about Bette.”
“What did she say?”
“She wanted to know if I was ‘really’ married to a woman now.”
“What’d you tell them? ’Cause I don’t think I can pull off drag.”
Noah laughed a little. “I told her I was ‘really’ married to you.” In spite of his best efforts, his eyes teared up. He wiped them away impatiently. “What’s messed up is that before that, I thought for half a minute that maybe she’d changed. I’m so stupid.”
“You aren’t stupid. They’re stupid.” He put a hand on his knee. “You gonna be okay for me to go to work?”