There is a repeat of the gel and the wand. I try to pay attention to the screen and the tech, but in truth, my mind is racing too fast for me to notice anything other than the long time it takes for the exam. The tech lets me clean up and I go back to the waiting room to sit with Sofie until the cardiologist calls me to discuss the results.
Sofie holds my hand, but doesn’t try to start a conversation or give me meaningless assurances. Her simple touch keeps me from coming unglued as the minutes tick by.
When the receptionist calls my name, I jump and Sofie tightens her grip on my hand. We rise and follow the nurse back to another exam room for another lengthy wait. I can’t decide if it took so long because they’re being thorough or if they have bad news and just want to put off delivering it. By the time the doctor arrives I’m nearly overcome with shivers.
“Ms. Walker, I’m Dr. Foley.” She’s a woman in her late forties with red-blonde hair pulled back into a bun. She has kind, watery blue eyes and a brightly colored, heart-bedecked stethoscope. I like her immediately and take back every negative thought I had while we were waiting.
I offer her a faint hello. Sofie stays quiet, but smiles, lips betraying her outer shields with a tremble.
I watch as Dr. Foley’s lips move, but after the words, “Your son has HLHS,” I stop listening.
Sofie makes sure to take note of all the important information and literature. She tells them that I’ll be coming back if I have any questions. But for the most part I think she just wants to get me out of there before I lose it.
But I don’t. I think I’ve cried all the tears I have in me. On the drive home from the hospital, I can do nothing but sit and stare blankly out the window with my hand on my stomach where I can feel him moving.
“Can you drop me at the gym?” I ask Sofie when we make it back to Nassau. “I promised him I would come by afterwards to let him know the news.”
“Absolutely, anything you need.”
I know the situation must be dire if Sofie is willing to go within speaking distance of Jack.
She stops at the entrance, puts the car in park and turns to me. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
“Are you going to try to get ahold of Ben again?”
I stare at her in surprise. In the shock of the doctor’s news, I hadn’t even thought about it. After the last non-answered email, I hadn’t tried to reach out again. At least by the time Cole was due, he’d be home. Maybe then I’d be able to get ahold of him.
“I sent him a million emails. I haven’t heard back, so I think I’ll just wait to hear from him and talk to him then. Right now I just want to make sure to keep us both as healthy as possible.”
She gives me a hug and I heave my exhausted body out of the car. It’s nearing the busiest time of the day for the gym, but it’s practically empty. I look around and find Jack in the office cursing at paperwork.
“How’d the promo thing go?” I ask.
Jack rubs a hand through his messy hair. The fact that it’s sticking up in all directions pretty much answers my question, but he says, “Miserably. Barely anyone showed up. But you don’t worry about that. Tell me the news.”
My lip trembles and my look must tell him all he needs to know. He rises from the desk to envelop me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Livvie.”
“Has Dad gotten back from his trip yet?”
“No, but he said he’d come straight here after.”
I plop wearily onto his couch. “Do you mind if I crash here until he gets here? I’m kind of wiped after today.”
“Of course.”
A few hours later I hear Jack get up from the desk chair with a loud squeak. I come awake with a groan. For a moment, I don’t even recognize where I am. Then I hear the dull thuds and grunts from the gym and catch the scent of sweat and leather. I relax into the couch, lulled by the familiar setting.
My dad is due back any minute according to the time on my phone. As much as I would like to bury the news I have to deliver, I know Dad will be the guiding light I need to get through the next few months.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and get to my feet. I’m inhaling a bottled water I found in the mini-fridge to combat the sour taste in my mouth when the office door opens behind me.
Jack has soaked through his shirt since I saw him earlier. His normally tanned skin has an abnormal gray pallor. All my life, I’ve known when bad things are going to happen. The sensation is akin to falling. At first, there is confusion as the world shifts under my feet. Then denial, because how could this be happening to me, anyway? Then resolute grief because no matter how much I try, there’s not a damn thing I can do to change my circumstances.
Even knowing this and having been through it several times in my short life, I still go through each stage.
Confusion.
“Jack?”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he hesitates in the doorway. He takes a stuttering step forward then stops to run a hand through his hair. “Sit down, Liv.”
My hand automatically presses against my stomach. “Jack?” I repeat a few octaves higher. “What’s going on?”
Denial.
I follow his glance to the gym, and I see the faint figures of men in uniform talking to a huge guy in sweats that I recognize as Logan. They must be cops he works with. My stomach drops, and I shift my attention back to Jack.
He takes a few cautious steps toward me, but I hold my hand up and shake my head. “Just tell me.”
Images start to flit through my mind. Ben. The pregnancy test. My father’s face the first time I met him, a few weeks after I’d turned thirteen.
I register Jack closing the door to the office. “It’s Dad,” he says.
And for the second time in my life, I find myself feeling utterly alone in the world.
Four Months Later
Benjamin Cole Walker is born after ten harrowing hours of labor with the help of a specialized team of OB/GYNs and Dr. Foley, who waits on standby to give Cole his first evaluation. They place him on my chest for the briefest of moments and we lock eyes; mesmerizing crystal-blues identical to his dad’s. Everything inside me seizes, and for a few perfect seconds, I don’t worry about the uncertainty with Ben or the upcoming surgeries Cole will have to endure or the difficulties he’ll face in his life. Instead, I experience the most profound and all-encompassing wave of love and awe, that I’m still stunned when the nurses come to take him for stabilization. Thankfully the hospital has one right next door so that when I’m able, I can watch him through the window.
Jack narrates what the nurses are doing as he watches through the glass. “They’re hooking him up to an IV now. Prostaglandin, I think.”
I recalled that as the medicine that will help keep him stable and improve blood flow until his first surgery which will take place in two days.
“Now they’re attaching him to a bunch of crap for his vitals. He looks good, sis.”
I smile wearily from my place on the bed. Once they get his vitals stable they are going to have to move him down the hall to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit to prep for the first of the three surgeries. I didn’t like being separated from him so soon, but I’d been preparing for months for these procedures. I had to be strong for him.
After Cole’s diagnosis, I made monthly trips to the Fetal Cardiac Program for observation with Dr. Foley to keep an eye on his development. We prepared and discussed for his birth more than I thought possible. Dr. Foley turned out to be a Godsend. She answered all (million) of my questions and took all of my frantic calls, no matter how off the wall.
Dr. Foley and the team at the FCP explained that after a series of surgeries, one performed after birth, one around six months and the other around eighteen months, Cole’s heart would essentially function as a one-sided pump instead of two. The first year was going to be rough, but he was in excellent hands and I was determined to give him the kind of family I never had.
I learned early on how important i
t is to take each day at a time and to stay positive. After Dad’s sudden heart attack, I went through a dark place, one that I didn’t think I would survive, but I did because I knew Cole needed me. He reminded me a lot of myself after I was put in foster care. Only I would never give up on him. He would always have me.
Jack turns from the window and says, “I hate to tell you this, but that baby looks just like Ben.”
I groan. “I do all the work and the kid doesn’t even look like me? How is that fair?”
“At least Ben isn’t totally unfortunate looking, I guess. You could have really been screwed.”
Coming down from the adrenaline of giving birth, I burst into tears and I’m not entirely sure why.
Jack smiles and says, “Dad used to tell me Mom did the same thing after I was born because she was so happy. Then again, he said she only did it because she was terrified I would turn out just like him.”
I hiccup through my tears. “She did not!”
Jack simply shakes his head and plops into a chair next to me. “She did,” he said as he taps the window and waves at the probably sleeping baby. My heart clutches at the sight. “She knew it was a lost cause. No matter how hard she tried, I still turned out just like him.” We both fall into a contemplative silence and I shed a couple tears for a completely different reason. I so wanted him to be here to meet my son and it’s killing me that he isn’t. I’m trying to be positive though, for my son and for Jack, who has been having an especially hard time with Dad’s death over the last few months. Jack hears my sniffling and turns back to me. “You did good, girl.”
I give him a watery smile. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Olivia.” Jack’s face was pinched. “Boys aren’t beautiful. He’s ruggedly handsome. Or he’s a strapping lad.”
“Lad?” I ask with a quirked brow.
Jake merely smiles at me. “He’s perfect.”
I tug Jack’s arm down to the bed so that he’s sitting next to me. I can’t help but feel like the Walkers were chosen for me. That Jack was the brother I was meant to have. “Thanks for being with me today, Jackie.”
“Nowhere I’d rather be, sis. Though, you could have gone easy on my hand. I never should have let you train with us. I think you broke it.” He flexes the hand in question.
“I highly doubt that.”
We share a laugh and as it trails off, I watch Jack’s face turn serious.
“You still haven’t heard from him?” he asks in a low voice.
I suck in a deep breath and paste on a happy face. “No, but Logan said the mail where he’s at is spotty at best. I sent him a few emails with updates and one of the ultrasounds, but I don’t think he got them. I would have heard back by now.”
“I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I’m your big brother. I just didn’t want you to be alone today. Or for the surgery. It’s going to be a rough year and I just want to make sure you’re both taken care of.”
“I’m not alone. You were with me. You’ll be here for everything. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.”
“I know they’re sending him to a pretty hellacious place and he’ll get in touch with you when he can. Just let me know when he does.”
“Of course, Jack. If I ever do. If I don’t, that’s fine, too.”
For a while after Ben went out on his deployment, I’d waited with bated breath. Each time the phone rang or the mail ran, I expected for it to be him. It never was. Losing my mom, and then Ben, and then my dad… it has just been too much. I can’t stand the thought of losing anyone else in my life. So I’ve come to the conclusion that if he shows and wants to be involved, great. If not, then we’ll be fine without him.
Jack studies me for a few minutes, but the bone-deep exhaustion has left me too weary for any kind of discussion. Jack and I take turns watching Cole so I can grab a couple hours of much-needed sleep. He only wakes me when there are updates and whenever he’s snuck more food into the room. It occurs to me that Cole and I are very lucky, the luckiest, to have him in our lives. And we don’t need anyone else, I decide.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything? Did you get enough diapers from your shower thing?” Jack looks around the living room like he’d find an errant pack of them hiding in a planter or something.
“Yes, I have plenty. If we run out, I can always call you to run to the store for me.”
Jack brightens. “I can do that now. Where do I go?”
I laugh. “Jack. We’re fine, I promise. You’ve covered everything and Melissa made enough frozen meals for us to last through the next year. Now, go; you’ve done enough. More than enough.”
I walk him to the door but stop when he pauses in the doorway.
He opens his mouth to say something then pauses. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?”
“Absolutely, Jack. I know I wasn’t prepared for the whole mom gig initially, but I’ve spent more than enough time in the hospital learning how to take care of him. I made the nurses teach me everything at least twice. I could give him his medicine and check monitors in my sleep. We’re going to be just fine.”
Jack wraps his arms around me, and I tuck my head under his chin. At six foot two, he towers over my small frame, but I always fit, like we’re two pieces from different puzzles that somehow work.
“You’re my little sister. It’s my duty to make sure you’re okay.”
I squeeze him extra tight. “And you’ve always done a great job. Now, get. You can come see us this weekend. For now, I need to get used to this all by myself for a little while.”
He gives me one last hug, then leaves. I wave at his retreating figure before shutting the door behind him. Cole begins to fuss where he is stirring in his bassinet.
We stayed in the hospital for a few months after the first surgery to recover and learn the ropes. The fact that he made it through the first stage is a positive sign. Thankfully, Cole took to a bottle and the breast milk and the special formula he has to take. I was relieved to see that he was gaining weight regularly. We’re one of the lucky ones. There were no complications from the first surgery. He suffered from no infections and has started healing nicely. For the next few months I’ve been instructed to watch who he interacts with to stave off any contact with anyone who could give him any sort of illness.
After we were released from the hospital, Jack insisted we stay for a couple of weeks at his place so he could help out. Even though I’d loved spending time with him, I’m grateful to be back in my own space without the constant in and out of the nurses—or the hovering of an over-protective Walker male. Nine weeks after Cole’s birth and we were finally home.
I settle into the rocking chair Melissa gave me as a shower gift to feed Cole. Dad and Jack both stepped up to help me finish the renovations on the house, though after Dad’s heart attack, it was just Jack. All of the rooms have a fresh coat of paint, most of the faulty wiring has been updated or replaced and my kitchen is rocking new appliances.
There was enough money left from Dad’s life insurance that I can care for Cole for the next few months without worrying. Once he’s healed and stable I’ll worry about going back to work. Until then I plan to spend each and every day of it soaking up the moments with my son. I’ve already scoped out daycares in advance, as he’ll need round-the-clock care and supervision. I dread the moment I’d have to leave him.
The phone rings and shakes me from my thoughts. I glance down to see Cole still passed out in my lap and I smile as I answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, good lookin’,” Sofie says. “How’s my main man?”
“Sleeping. We were just taking a nap. What’s up?”
“So your no-good brother mentioned something to me that I thought you should know. And before you ask, no I’m not going to tell you why I was forced to talk to the devil and yes, I would have rather eaten meatloaf made of glass.”
“Couldn’t have been anything too earth shattering because
he dropped us off not too long ago. Surely he couldn’t have ruined your day in such a short time.”
“God love you, Olivia, but you have blinders on when it comes to that man.”
“Speak for yourself. Jack’s been nothing but supportive since Cole was diagnosed. I couldn’t have done this without him.”
I hear Sofie’s sniff of derision over the line. “Anyway. Don’t you want to know what he said?”
I sigh. “What did he say?”
“Only that a certain baby daddy is coming home next week before he goes to his last duty station.”
I FINISH WASHING the dishes, my fingers turned to raisins, and shut off the water. I take a moment to rest, just to shut off my mind, and lean a hip against the counter. My head pounds in a vicious rhythm, but I set that aside.
We survived our first at-home scare. I am both terrified of the future and so very thankful for the present.
A few days ago, I picked Cole up from his nap and noticed that his skin, especially his lips, had turned a faint blue. When I pressed a hand to his little chest, he was breathing rapidly. I immediately dialed 9-1-1 and we were rushed to the hospital for evaluation.
Thankfully, the doctors were able to get him stabilized again, and after a short stay, we were allowed to go home.
Still¸ I lost precious moments fumbling with my touchscreen to get the right numbers. Moments where I knew if I failed, he would lose his life and it would be my fault.
It felt like it took an eternity for the paramedics, policemen, and even a fire-response team to arrive, all sirens screaming bloody murder, in my driveway. In reality, it was probably a few minutes at most, considering how small Nassau is.
The sound of the sirens didn’t even disturb Cole from his slumber, his little chest kept pumping away. The sound of his cries in the hospital echoed throughout the hallways. There had never been a more beautiful sound.
I try to draw on that feeling of happiness now, when the house is asleep and everything is dark. When I feel trapped by circumstance and hopelessness. I walk through all of the rooms, turning off lights as I go. I let out Hank, our Boston Terrier, for one last bathroom break.
Warrior (First to Fight #1) Page 7
