by Untamed
I giggled playfully. “Ooh, sounds like fun.”
He walked up behind me. “I can always put you in my lap, and we could slide down together,” he said in my ear.
“Boy, quit fooling around,” I laughed at him as I slightly turned and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.
Glancing back, I noticed our mothers soaking up the banter between Ryan and me, and I knew the interrogation was about to begin.
“Charice, are you ever gonna give my baby a chance?” Ryan’s mom asked.
Right on schedule. “Dang, Ms. Debra, you ain’t waste no time asking me that question,” I joked.
“Hell, I want to know. I don’t know what’s wrong with y’all young people,” she fussed.
“I just prefer to get over one thing before I jump into something else,” I said sadly.
“Ma, don’t pressure her. She’s been through a lot,” Ryan insisted.
“And that ‘lot’ has to do with Lincoln Harper, and if I get my hands on him, I’m gonna make him pay,” my dad said, bringing in a tray of hot dogs.
Consoling my dad, I rubbed my hand on his arm. “Daddy, don’t get upset. This is a fun day.”
“Yeah, Mr. Taylor. You don’t need to get worked up over that clown. Besides, I just want us to enjoy our family before the season kicks in,” Ryan added.
“Don’t worry, we will. Go ahead and enjoy your family, baby,” my mom said. “The rest of us are going to stay out of y’all’s business.” She glared at my dad and Ryan’s mom.
They both silently consented even though I knew they didn’t want to. With that, I went with my mom and dad to play outside with the kids. After being damn near soaked from being on the waterslide with the kids, I came back in to get a towel. On my way to the bathroom, I heard Ms. Debra’s voice coming from the living room.
“When are you going to tell her?” she asked Ryan.
“Ma, I don’t know how. Charice is still going through a lot, and I don’t know if I can just dump this on her right now,” Ryan explained.
I walked into the living room. “Tell me what?”
Ryan and his mom looked up in shock. “Uh, Charice. I didn’t see you standing there.”
“I gathered that by your comments. Tell me what?” I asked in confusion as I wrapped the towel around my waist.
Ms. Debra put her hand on Ryan’s arm as if to encourage him. “I’m sorry. I should’ve waited to discuss this,” she said to him.
Patting her hand, he forgave her for opening an obviously closed conversation. “It’s all right, Mama.”
“Okay, I’d really appreciate it if someone would get to talking around here. I’m getting a little nervous, and I’ve come to the point in my life where I do not like surprises,” I said, slightly irritated.
“Ma, will you excuse Charice and me for a moment? I should talk to her,” he asked.
His mom excused herself, and Ryan waved me into the room. “Come over and sit down.”
“I think I’d rather stand.”
Ryan came over, grabbed my hand, and walked me back over to the sofa. “It’s not that terrible. Just have a seat.” We both sat, and he leaned forward, clasping his hands together.
“Ryan, you’re scaring me a little bit.”
He put his hand on my knee. “Don’t worry, Ricey. It’s just difficult for me to come out with this.”
“Come out with what?” I asked him. “You know you can tell me anything,” I coaxed, gently rubbing the top of his hand.
He smiled, raised my hand, and kissed it. “That’s why I love you even to this day.” He exhaled as he prepared to tell me what was on his mind. “I, uh, I got an offer from the New York Giants. If I take it, I’d be the highest-paid running back in the league. It’s good for my career, and the Giants are in a good position for the playoffs this season.”
Not being one for this whole buildup, I forced him to get to the point. “What are you telling me?”
“I took the deal. I’m moving to New York to be a Giant.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. I was completely blown away by his news. “New York is so far away. Dallas was too, but at least the kids and I have gotten to know the city, and I was looking at moving there eventually. The kids have gotten so close to you, and you’re going to New York? Wow.”
“That’s what’s got me. The kids, you, and I are so close now. We’re like a real family, and I hate to break us up, so I was thinking and hoping that maybe you would consider moving with me to New York,” he asked sheepishly.
Was he serious? He’d just knocked me in the head with the news that he was moving, and now he wanted me to pick up and move from one end of the country to the other? My mind scrambled as I tried to take in exactly what he was asking. “Move? All the way to New York? With you?” I repeated in shock. “That’d mean uprooting the kids from the only place they know to a place they know nothing about. What about our parents?”
“No shade, Ricey, but I’ve literally been away from my parents for eight years. So my moving from state to state isn’t an adjustment for me or them. Besides, there isn’t a place on earth that our parents wouldn’t travel to see their grandkids. You know that as well as I do. I’m sure they will miss them, but distance isn’t going to stop them,” he countered. “You can even keep the house you have here in Atlanta. I’ll pay it off, and I’ll buy you one up in New York,” Ryan coaxed.
“I don’t have any friends or family in New York.”
“But you’ll have me and the kids.”
“And I’m supposed to live in that city by myself?”
“Then move in with me, and let’s be a family,” he pleaded. “Damn it, Ricey. I love you. I’m not Lincoln, but I do love you. Haven’t I shown you how much? You and I could start over, and you could learn to love me again. I’m patient. We could start slow, but I really want you to be with me in New York.”
Silence trapped my voice. It was all too much for me. I was still reeling over the foolishness with Lincoln, and I didn’t want to be unfair to Ryan. Part of me loved him, but partial love was not complete love, and I felt strange thinking of living with Ryan when I knew I wasn’t giving him my all.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. “Do you want to get that?” I asked him.
“No, Leilene will get it,” he said, referring to his parents’ maid. “Charice—” he began, but we heard a commotion coming from down the hall as Ryan’s parents and my parents came rushing in from the backyard. “What the hell?” Ryan stood to see what was happening.
Suddenly, Lincoln appeared in the living room and jacked Ryan up. “You son of a bitch,” he yelled angrily and punched Ryan square in the face as all the ladies screamed in horror.
As if someone unleashed caged animals, my dad and Ryan’s dad instantly ran in to jump on Lincoln. “You bastard! You think you’re gonna beat up on my son?” Ryan’s dad yelled as he grabbed Lincoln.
“Oh, and you definitely catching it for my daughter,” my dad yelled and punched Lincoln in the stomach.
“Stop it! Stop it right now,” all the ladies yelled as we tried to maneuver around the three-on-one melee.
As if in slow motion, my attention turned to Ryan Jr., who’d run in from outside with a panicked expression. “Mom!” he yelled.
“Stay back, Ryan,” I screamed at my son.
“Something’s wrong with Charity,” he cried out.
Without question or a second thought, I ran toward the backyard with everyone else in tow behind me. I couldn’t move fast enough as I ran outside and saw Charity unconscious in the grass.
“Oh my God! What happened?” I asked Ray, who was crying as he sat by his sister.
“We don’t know, Mama. We were just playing and running, and she just fell down. She didn’t run into nothing, and she didn’t hit her head. She just fell down, and she won’t wake up,” he said between sobs.
I picked up her head and elevated it. “Come on, baby. Wake up. Sweetie, please,” I screamed as Ryan kneeled d
own next to me.
“Charity,” he hollered. “Come on, princess. Get up,” he said frantically with tears streaming down his face.
“I’m calling 911,” I heard Lincoln say. “Yes, please send an ambulance quickly. There is a six-year-old little girl. She’s passed out, and we don’t know why. . . .” His voice trailed off as he walked away
“Oh God! Charity!” My body was numb as I sat there, holding my baby’s lifeless body. She had to be okay. She had to.
* * *
It seemed as if time ticked on forever. For the past hour, I stared at the time on the wall. My lips were parched, and my throat was dry from screaming. I didn’t even have tears left to cry. I was weak in my body and in my mind. Nobody spoke a word, breathing was all to be heard, and I was numb. Everything happened so fast. When the paramedics arrived, Charity had a faint pulse and was barely breathing, but she was alive thanks to Ryan’s split-second decision to start mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. A whole hour later, I knew about as much as I did when we got there. Nothing. Just that my only daughter was in the hospital at the mercy of doctors we didn’t know, ailing from an unknown sickness. The only refuge I had was Ryan’s powerful arms wrapped around me and the fact that my family and my girls were waiting with me.
“Mr. Westmore and Ms. Taylor,” the doctor called out, walking into the waiting area. Everybody stood. “Can I please talk to you two in private?”
Scared yet hopeful, we walked over to the nurse’s station with him. “What’s going on with our daughter?” Ryan asked point-blank.
“I’m Dr. Wellington, and for now, your daughter is conscious and doing all right considering her ordeal. After consulting with cardiology, we’ve discovered that she has a condition known as congestive heart failure, which basically means that her heart can’t pump enough blood to meet the needs of her body,” he said, explaining the diagnosis.
“Oh my God,” I wailed, falling into Ryan’s embrace.
“How come this wasn’t detected sooner? She goes to doctor’s appointments,” Ryan asked angrily. “What does all this mean? What’s going on with her?”
“Well, the symptoms of CHF are very common and present as other illnesses. Has she had any cases of shortness of breath or anemia?” Dr. Wellington asked.
Lifting up from Ryan’s embrace, I nodded. “Yes, she takes iron tablets for anemia. She’s been anemic since birth. Sometimes when she plays, she gets short of breath, but it was never anything severe.”
“See, that’s what I mean. The onset of the disease seems sudden because she appeared to be a normal, healthy child.”
“Does this mean she’s going to be all right?” Ryan asked.
“For now she is. In her case, her heart has become enlarged in order to try to increase its pumping power, but her heart just couldn’t take the added stress anymore,” the doctor explained.
“Why did you say for now? Do you know who I am? Tell us what we need to know and what I have to do,” Ryan demanded angrily.
“I really shouldn’t go into details because we have our head pediatric cardiac surgeon coming to explain more in-depth,” he whispered and pulled us to the side out of the earshot of hospital staff. “But I’ll tell you this. She needs what’s called an intra-aortic balloon pump placed inside of her heart to help circulate the blood, but this solution may only be temporary. Please do not quote me on this, because cardiology would need to do a final confirmation, but I want to be completely transparent with you. Depending on the severity of her condition, the balloon pump may be it or just the beginning. The most extensive scenario would be that your daughter may need a heart transplant,” Dr. Wellington confided in us.
At that moment, my heart shattered in a million pieces. This news was beyond devastating. It was downright sadistic. The only question in my mind was why. One minute we were having a celebration as a family and the next, tragedy. This had to be a nightmare, but as I pinched myself, the pain let me know that it was indeed real.
Ryan held me close and tight as I collapsed against him again and cried, “Oh my God, Ryan.”
I was wrapped in his powerful embrace, and he kissed the top of my head as I felt the wetness from his tears dampen my hair. “It’s okay, Ricey. I’ve got you. I’ve got us. She’s going to be just fine. She’s a trooper. We’re going to make it through this. Just be strong for her, okay?” Ryan consoled me, then refocused his attention on the doctor. “Look, you get that surgeon down here immediately, and if she needs a heart, you get her on the top of that transplant list. Spare no expense. I will pay for it out of pocket, because I’m walking my little girl out of this hospital, do you hear me?”
“He’ll be down right away, Mr. Westmore. But let’s try to be optimistic. Hopefully, a transplant will be a null conversation. We’ll take it one step at a time to ensure that Charity receives the best viable solution we have to offer. If you’d like to see your daughter, you can, but she’s very weak, and she’s connected to several machines to help stabilize her. Try to be as calm as possible so as not to alarm her and potentially cause more damage to her heart,” Dr. Wellington said.
“Yes, please take us to our baby,” I managed to say between sobs.
It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Charity was hooked up to every gadget imaginable. She looked pale, frail, and lifeless. She wasn’t the 6-year-old little girl I saw this morning, and that made it real to me. I felt myself on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I couldn’t lose my daughter after all I’d been through, but as much as I wanted to break down, I had to be strong for her.
As Ryan and I sat down beside her, she opened her eyes, and I held her hand. “Charity, Mommy and Daddy are right here, baby, and we’re not going anywhere.”
“I was so scared,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Don’t be, princess. Daddy is here to protect you,” Ryan assured her.
“I love you, Mommy and Daddy.”
“We love you too,” we said in unison.
After about ten minutes, Charity dozed off, and Ryan went to explain everything to our family and friends, who’d been waiting patiently in the lobby. Everyone came by to see her and console Ryan and me. Lincoln stopped by to see her as well. He apologized for the commotion he caused and vowed to give us our space to tend to our daughter. We’d all called an unspoken truce for the sake of Charity.
* * *
Over the course of the week, Ryan and I spoke numerous times with the head pediatric cardiac surgeon, Dr. Nichols, about the severity of Charity’s condition. Based on the results from the tests they’d run, it was deemed that it was imperative that she have a transplant as quickly as possible. As upset as I was about her condition, the blessing in it was that her medical case was being sent to the review boards, and she had a very good chance of being placed at the top of the list. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to suffer long, especially with her life hanging in the balance. The transplant surgery was going to cost us a small fortune, but that was nothing compared to her life. I was just thankful that we were in a position in our lives to foot the bill.
Meanwhile, I’d completely immersed myself in taking care of my daughter. Ryan tended to the boys, and he was there every day, taking care of me. With her illness, every day that passed was an uphill or downhill battle. It seemed every time she appeared to take one step forward, something would happen to push us two steps back. It felt as if I were going to suffocate, but at long last, we got the news we had been waiting for—Charity was at the top of the transplant list. That joy was short-lived, though, because while she was at the top of the list, she still needed a donor who was a match to her. I tried to be the optimistic one since I was constantly around Charity, but it was so hard to do when it seemed as if I was just watching my daughter’s life slip away without being able to do a damn thing about it. On top of everything else, Ryan was preparing to leave for training camp, and while he had to go, I needed him with me so badly.
“What about camp? When does it start?” I asked him as we ate in the hospi
tal cafeteria.
“I’m leaving the week after it starts so I can be here for you and Charity,” Ryan informed me before placing his half-eaten apple back on his plate and leaning back. He wiped his hands on his napkin before placing the crumpled-up paper onto his plate and clasping his hands together atop his head. “I feel so bad and so fucking helpless right now, Ricey.”
“You’re doing great. You’ve held this family together beautifully. If it weren’t for you, I would be no good to Charity. Just keep holding on.” I grabbed his hand to reassure him of how wonderful he’d been.
Ryan looked at me through his tears. “Her condition is getting worse.”
“We have to think positive—”
“She needs a transplant soon,” Ryan interrupted.
“I know!” I belted. “I know,” I said more calmly as tears found their way to my eyelids.
Ryan grabbed my hand. “I’m scared to leave you all here alone. If anything happens and I’m not here, I’d never forgive myself.”
I scooted my chair over to him. “Nothing is going to happen. We’ll talk to you every day, and I have Skype on my phone. You already have permission to leave when they find a donor. But I need you to be strong for me. Play and train like you never have before, for us.” I leaned my head on his shoulder.
He kissed the top of my head. “I needed that so much.”
“When you get back, I hope you have enough energy to pack boxes.” I glanced up to find him staring down at me in confusion. I grabbed his hand and turned sideways in my chair to face him. “I thought about it, and I’ve decided I want to move to New York with you. But if I move with you, we move as a couple and not separated. Life is too short, and I’m not going to spend my life looking for what I already have in you.”
Excitement burst through him, and he jumped for joy like a lit firecracker and pulled me out of the chair and hugged me tightly. “I love you, Charice. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Ryan,” I said, and we kissed passionately.
When we broke our kiss, the few people in the hospital cafeteria clapped and cheered, and we left to get on the elevator to go check on our daughter. Once inside the elevator, Ryan dropped to one knee.
