by Celeste, B.
“And he doesn’t mind me playing?”
I chuckle. “Trust me, Mark wouldn’t say yes unless he wanted to. In fact, he’s been trying to get you to come here and play ever since I mentioned you could.”
Her brows arch up. “You talk about me a lot, huh?”
The waiter comes just then and gives us their specials, which we order two of along with some sweat tea. When he leaves for the kitchen again, I lean back in my chair.
“Mark’s wife used to be a pianist.”
She catches the past tense use of words quickly, letting her eyes dim over someone she doesn’t even know. It’s so … Charlie. “When I mentioned you played, he told me you should come here and give a performance. I know you play for Milo, but you love performing.”
Her throat bobs. “I didn’t think of anything to give you.”
My hand swipes at the slow smirk spreading across my face. “I’d say you’ve given me quite a bit lately.”
“Ollie!” Humor dances in her eyes, making the green more vibrant. “Behave, we’re in public.”
I nod slowly, looking around the empty room before meeting her gaze again. “You’re right. Wouldn’t want the other patrons to hear.”
She rolls her eyes. “I wonder what Milo will be like when he’s older with parents like us.”
“Amazing,” I state confidently. “Caring. Loving. Selfless. Confident. Talented. I can keep going, but I think you get the point.”
The cloth on her lap captures her focus as she toys with the threaded ends. “I’m sure you’re right, but sometimes…” Her shoulders lift. “I can’t help but worry.”
“It’s normal.”
“He’ll be able to hear soon,” she whispers, in awe of the realization.
The surgery date is nearing quickly, the rest of May having gone by in no time and June passing even quicker. Even though it’s outpatient, she’s packed and repacked a bag for him at least three times. She’s reread information on what to expect, googled everything she’d possibly need to know, and called Dr. Woodshed countless times with questions she already knows the answer to.
“Nothing will stop him.” A tiny smile forms at the corners of her lips.
“Nothing,” I agree.
Lunch is accompanied by conversations about the sign language classes we’ve taken over the past few weeks. We both show Milo what we’ve learned as we go, and Charlie insists he’s even mimicked her before when she was showing him the alphabet. His attentiveness to everything she does makes it seem possible. He picks up on the way she teaches him to feel the vibrations in the piano, to hit certain keys, and everything in between.
Milo is smart. There’s no doubt he’ll pick up the language easily, no matter the form he’s taught it in. Dr. Woodshed mentioned the necessity for special therapy to help him learn speech, on top of extra schooling to allow him to adjust. He’ll pick it up without a hitch, I’m certain of it.
Mark shows up shortly before the doors officially open, gesturing for Charlie to situate herself at the piano when she’s ready. The cake we split between us is nothing but crumbs, and I can tell Charlie doesn’t want to waste another second before sitting on that bench.
“Go.” I tip my chin. “I’ll be watching.”
She stands and walks over to me, bending to give me a chaste kiss before moving her lips to my ear. “You better know a private place to park after we leave here, because there’s no way I’ll be able to wait until we’re back at the hotel.”
My cocks instantly stiffens at her words, fire shooting down my limbs as she pulls away. The little vixen in the tight dress saunters away with confidence, but I know it’s just her being her. Blindly beautiful, simply breathtaking.
And when she sits down at the bench after studying the keyboard, the very first song she plays as people spill in is ours.
We lock eyes the entire time, never once missing the emotion swirling between us through every note. I remember the first time she played it for me, how I had to say goodbye because I needed to give her time. Space. Independence. She’d asked me if I’d love her despite her flaws and scars and past.
The answer was always yes, even when I let the door close behind me that afternoon.
Can you love me anyway, Ollie?
I mouth, “Always.”
Chapter Ten
Charlie
Anxiety ripples through me as I hold Milo close to my chest in the waiting room. The squirming bundle on my lap has no idea where we are, why we’re here, or that his life is about to change forever. In fact, none of the kids in the playroom seem to have a clue why they’re there.
I bounce my knees, partially to sooth him but also because I can’t stop fidgeting. The tightening in my chest makes it hard to breathe, and my temples ache more every time the double doors open for patients to be called back by the nurses in blue scrubs.
Ollie rests his palm on my knee. “Deep breaths, baby. Everything is going to be okay.”
A young red-headed woman sitting across from us smiles. “First time?”
I wince. “There will be more?”
The sympathy on her face is clear. “Well, hopefully not surgeries. But trust me, you’ll find yourself at the hospital with them as they get older. Stomachaches, stitches, flus, you name it.”
My eyes widen as I stare at Ollie.
He just shrugs. “She’s got a point. Look at how many times River and Everett brought one of theirs in.”
I brush a hand through Milo’s blond locks, trying to comfort myself in its softness. “I know, but I kind of hope that won’t be us.”
Both Ollie and the woman laugh softly over my naïve hope. I notice the little girl who can’t be more than three playing with some dolls by the stranger’s feet. She’s all smiles as she lives in her little fantasy world.
“What’s your daughter in for?” I ask, hoping it’ll help ease some of my worry. I tell myself that everyone here is probably going through the same thought processes as me.
The woman shifts in the chair. “Oh, she’s not…” She clears her throat, smiling. “She’s in to get her tonsils removed.”
A man walks over to them, causing the little girl to shoot up and wrap herself around his legs. He instantly picks her up hugs her tightly, her little arms wrapping around his neck.
“Daddy,” she croaks. “I feel funny.”
He rubs her back. “I know, sweetie. We’re going to get you all better. And you know what? You get to eat ice cream and Jell-O for a few days. How cool is that?”
The woman we were talking to smiles at them in adoration, but there’s something I know all too well in her eyes. Longing. And based on her hesitation over me calling the little girl hers, my bet is that she’s not.
Peeling her eyes away from the burly man who takes the seat next to her, she looks between me and Ollie. “What’s your little guy in for?”
Deafness seems to be a sore spot for a lot of people which I can never understand. Any time we bring up Milo’s condition, it’s like they want to either give us their opinion on what to do or judge us like we did something wrong to cause it. It’s made me cautious to make friends with people in our neighborhood who have kids, because the last thing I want is unwarranted, degrading advice.
“He’s getting a cochlear implant,” I answer, holding him a little tighter.
Her eyes soften, and a friendly smile appears back on her face. “That’s amazing. I bet you two are excited.”
It’s Ollie who admits, “More nervous than anything, if we’re being honest.”
Her response is instant. “Oh, I’m sure. I just about had a breakdown when I heard that Ainsley needed to have the procedure.” She looks at the little girl, whose eyes are closed as she rests on her father’s shoulder. “It’s tough going through this.”
“I’ll say,” I whisper, kissing the back of Milo’s head. He tips his head back and smiles at me, clapping his hands. I giggle. “Yeah? You must be excited too.”
He does his little wiggle, m
aking Ollie and I chuckle. The woman lets out a soft sigh and watches as Milo reaches up and tugs on a strand of my loose hair.
“He’s adorable,” she compliments.
I get my hair back. “Thank you. Ainsley is gorgeous too. She looks a lot like her dad.” And it’s true. From what I can see, her complexion is identical to his. Her hair is slightly different than his dirty blond, almost a strawberry tone, but still close.
“I’m Piper by the way.”
Ollie tips his head. “I’m Oliver. This is my wife Charlie, and our little guy is Milo.”
“What a cute name!”
The man chuckles. “Getting baby fever, Pipe? Thought you said you’d only spoil your godchildren and live with fifty cats.”
Piper’s cheeks burn red. “You have to admit that their baby is adorable, Danny. Look at him! But, yes. I plan to spoil Ainsley rotten. She’s already got something waiting at the house for when she’s better.”
The man, Danny, shakes his head with an amused smile on his face. “You’re one of a kind.”
I watch them with interest, wondering what their story is. It’s not my business, but it keeps my mind from wandering places I don’t want it to.
Before anything else can be said, the double doors open, and Milo’s name is called by a young man. Panic instantly settles into my bones, and I’m tempted to make a break for it before they can take him from me.
Ollie stands and gives me his hand.
I stare.
“Charlie,” he encourages. “It’s time.”
The male nurse walks over with a smile, holding a tiny band for Milo’s wrist. “Good morning. I’m Devon and I’ll be taking you into to pre-op. I just need to verify Milo’s name and date of birth.”
I’m still sitting, blinking between the men staring at me. “Uh … Milo Brahm James.” My voice gets shaky as tears well in my eyes.
Ollie fills in the rest of the needed information, giving me a chance to take a deep breath and stand.
It’s going to be worth it.
I chant that a few more times before we’re guided in the back, one of Ollie’s hands firmly but gently planted on the small of my back like he knows what I was thinking of doing.
When we’re given a room and told to get Milo changed into the proper gown, my hands shake too much. Ollie takes charge, cooing and praising Milo who just keeps smiling and looking around with curiosity.
I grip the counter and watch them—the two most important people in my life. They’re both carefree right now. At least, Ollie plays the part. I know he’s worried, but one of us needs to be emotionally stable. Unfortunately, that’s not me at the moment.
“Breathe,” he reminds me, holding Milo and walking over to me. “Look at how handsome he is. Don’t you think so, Mommy?”
“Please don’t call me that.”
He scoffs. “I meant it in a non-creepy way, mother of my child. But if you insist.”
I take Milo from him as we wait for the doctor to come in and confirm the procedure happening so we can fill out the final forms.
Evening my breathing, I push past the lightheadedness and focus on Milo. On his bright eyes and wide smile and natural beauty. We created a masterpiece, Ollie and me.
“You’re so beautiful, baby boy,” I whisper, nuzzling my nose into his cheek. His giggle eases some of the stress, but it doesn’t last long when the curtain opens, and the doctor announces himself.
It goes exactly as we’ve been told.
Talking and paperwork.
More talking.
More paperwork.
Ollie handles signing all the papers while I cuddle Milo until I know I need to pass him along. The thought of watching them take him into the back consumes me until tears can’t help but roll down my face.
“Mrs. James,” Dr. Woodshed comforts.
“I know, I know. He’ll be fine. But…”
Ollie grabs a tissue from the counter and dabs my cheeks, leaning in to kiss my temple. “I know what you’re feeling right now, but we’ll get through this. Okay, baby? We’re strong. Milo is strong. Remember that.”
We’re strong.
Milo is strong.
I nod and hold my breath when they announce they’re ready for him. My hands begin shaking as I give Milo another kiss and hug before passing him to Ollie to do the same.
“You be good back there, champ.” Only I seem to hear the tiniest crack in his words as he swallows his emotion. Milo watches us with my awareness as he’s passed into one of the nurse’s arms. When I see his eyes glaze, I suddenly feel like the worst parent alive.
“W-Wait. Maybe—”
“Charlie.” Ollie puts his hand on my arm.
The curtain opens.
They walk out.
And I breakdown.
Ollie pulls me into his arms, hushing me and combing his fingers through my hair. But I can hear the familiar muffled cries even from here as they take him back and feel my knees buckle under me.
The room spins as nausea sweeps through me and Ollie curses before pulling me onto the bed for balance. “Charlie? Baby?”
My vision blurs as I choke for air.
“Sir? Is she okay?”
“I…” Ollie’s hand finds mine. “I don’t know. She looks like she’s about to pass out. The stress has been tough on her.”
Brushing it off, I try standing but the lightheaded feeling I have doubles. I try telling Ollie I’m fine, that I haven’t eaten because of nerves, but don’t get anything out before everything blackens.
Something warm touches my hand, wrapping around my fingers and tightening. My eyelids flutter open, adjusting to the light before meeting a pair of dark brown eyes.
His smile is warm, but there’s something else mixed into it. Whatever it is, it’s light. Not necessarily worried, which I expected but am certainly glad about.
“Hey. Are you doing all right?”
I nod, sitting up with his help. “How long was I out? I’m so—”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head and takes my hand, kissing the back of it. “You’ve only been out for about eight minutes. No need to apologize. The nurse drew some blood just to be sure everything is all right, but you’re in pristine shape.”
“It was just stress. I didn’t eat…” I glance at the little circular band aid where they must have taken the blood.
“You really need to eat, Charlie.”
“I was nervous—”
“I know.” He squeezes my hand. “Trust me, babe. I know you were. But…” His lips twitch with a wavering smile that makes me narrow my eyes suspiciously at him.
Managing to swing my legs over the side of the bed, I sigh. “Why are you being weird? I promise I’m fine.”
His palm cups my knee. “I asked them to let me tell you before they came in again to see how you’re doing.” He squeezes me. “You’re pregnant, Charlie.”
My lips part.
He pauses, his smile a little smaller. “Did you hear me?”
I blink. “Yeah. Definitely heard you.” Trying to take a deep breath and calculate when my last period was, I shake my head in a daze. “I don’t know what to say.”
The wince he gives me makes me frown. He’s happy over this news. Am I? It isn’t that I’m not happy over being pregnant. But…
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, palming my eyes and trying to breathe. “I don’t remember missing any of my pills. It’s just a surprise is all.”
“Do you not want…?” He doesn’t finish the sentence, uncertainty lingering in his words like he’s afraid of my reply.
I quickly grab his hand. “No, it’s not that. We’ve talked about having another kid eventually, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon. And we’re going through things with Milo, big things, and it’s all so much.”
Emotion clogs my chest as new panic seeps into my skin. What were we thinking? I honestly had no idea I was pregnant. My periods have always been irregular—I’d miss some months and get two during others. I just assume
d it’d been finicky again.
“I’m excited about this,” he admits, looking genuinely ecstatic despite his wariness over my reaction. “But I understand that the timing could have been better. Things happen for a reason though, don’t they? We’ve always said that. I believe it.”
I wet my lips and find myself nodding. “I do too. I just…” How can I explain to him that I’m worried? My post-partum depression left me disconnected with Milo for a long time when he loved me unconditionally. It isn’t easy putting that concern to words, knowing Ollie can’t possibly understand what it’s like to feel the way I do. When Milo needed me, I distanced myself, battled myself, and I haven’t quite forgiven myself for it.
What if I feel that way again? I had spent months looking forward to holding Milo, only to want nothing to do with him when he was finally in the world. What kind of mother is like that? I still think about how broken I felt—the kind of broken I’d never felt before. I always promised myself if I had kids, I’d treat them differently than my own biological parents treated me. They chose drugs, sex, anything but their own daughter. Looking back now, I know I’d never become them. But feeling the disconnect I did for a long time before getting the proper help made me feel no different than them.
Ollie’s touch is soothing. “Do you think there will be more health complications?”
My shoulders lift slightly. “That’s part of it. We never know what will happen, Ollie. I know Milo isn’t broken because of his impairment, but things will be really tough on him growing up. There are things we can’t protect him from.”
“Just because it happened with one doesn’t mean it’ll happen again,” he reminds me, caressing my knee with his thumb. “And there will always be different things parents can’t protect their kids from, Charlie. That’s life. Even if this does happen again, look at us. We’re taking care of it. We’re looking out for Milo. Everything is fine.”
He has a point I can’t argue.