Wethering the Storm

by Samantha Towle

Page 38

 

  And I’m crying.

  There are more people here. More white. More talking. Then they’re gone.

  Silence. Crippling silence.

  I’m still on the floor, but I’m now leant up against the wall. Tom and Stuart are beside me.

  I hear the door open again. I lift my gritty eyes, and I see Josh slip out into the hall to talk to a woman in a white coat.

  More fucking white.

  I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall.

  “Jake…” Stuart’s voice forces my eyes open. I stare blankly at him. “We need to call Tru’s mom and dad. They need to know what’s happened. The press will get wind of Tru’s accident soon, if not already, and they can’t find out from the press. ”

  My heart stops.

  Billy and Eva.

  I can’t.

  I shake my head. “I don’t think I can…”

  “I’ll call them. I’ll get them on the first flight out here. ” He touches my arm briefly, then stands. “Do you want me to call your mom too?”

  My mom? Do I want her here?

  I nod, once.

  “I’m gonna get a drink. ” Smith stands. “Jake, do you want me to get you anything?”

  Tru.

  I shake my head.

  “Tom?”

  “A black coffee. ”

  The door bangs shut as Stuart and Smith leave.

  Then it’s just me and Tom.

  And silence. More crippling fucking silence.

  “What if she dies?”

  Tom turns his head and looks me in the eye. “Tru’s a fighter, Jake. She kicks my ass daily. She’s going nowhere. ”

  “But what if…”

  “Don’t ‘what if. ’ Don’t do that to yourself. ”

  My eyes blur. “I don’t know what to do. What to think. What to say. ” I bury my face in my hands, taking a staggered breath.

  A tear runs through my fingers and drips to the floor.

  I hear Tom take a shallow breath. “Don’t think of the bad, Jake. Think of the good. Think of the moment you get to hold your boy in your arms. Think of the moment you get to put that ring on Tru’s finger when she finally sees stupid and marries your sorry ass. Think of all the amazing fuckin’ things the three of you are going to do together. And while you’re thinking of all that great stuff, I’ll pray to the big man upstairs. I’ll promise to make some serious lifestyle changes in exchange for you to have all that, to have what you were always meant to have. ”

  I feel Tom’s hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it.

  I start to cry harder.

  How long has it been? Hours…days…minutes.

  My eyes are sore. My head hurts.

  I hear the door go again. It’s Josh.

  He comes and sits by me.

  “I was just talking to Dr. Fuller. She’s the neonatologist caring for your son. She said he’s doing good, Jake, real good. You can go up and see him when you’re ready. ”

  I turn and look at him blankly.

  Go and see him. Without Tru.

  But…

  I shouldn’t see him without Tru.

  And I can’t leave here. I need to know what’s happening with Tru.

  I can’t. I just…can’t.

  “I’ll take you up to see him, and I’ll wait outside. The instant I get any news about Tru, I’ll come in and get you, I promise,” Josh says as if reading my mind.

  “I…” I shake my head. “I don’t think I can. ”

  Josh draws his knees up and rests his arms on them, linking his hands together. There’s a long pause before he speaks again. But when he does, I hear the intention clear in his voice. “I know you feel like leaving this room is like leaving Tru, but there’s nothing you can do for her right now, Jake, no matter where you are. But your son…he needs you. He needs one of his parents. ”

  One of his parents.

  I close my eyes.

  He’s alone up there. He must be so confused and scared. He needs me.

  “Okay…,” I agree, opening my eyes. “Okay. ”

  “Your son is right in there. ” Josh points to the closed door across from us. “There’s a nurse with him, and I’ll be waiting right out here for you. ” He indicates a row of three plastic chairs.

  Turning to the door, I stare at it for a long moment.

  I take a deep breath as I push my hand through my hair, then I walk toward the door.

  My body is trembling, and the closer I get, the harder I start to shake.

  He’s in there. Right behind that door.

  I reach for the handle. Curling my fingers around the metal, I push down and slowly open the door.

  The room is low-lit. There’s no sound except for the beeping of a machine.

  The nurse has her back to me, but she turns and smiles at my arrival.

  “Mr. Wethers?”

  “Yes. ” My voice is hoarse.

  “He’s right over there. He’s been waiting for you. ” She smiles warmly.

  Turning to my right, I see an incubator. Inside the incubator is my son.

  My son.

  I can’t see him clearly through all the tubes surrounding him, but he looks small. So very small. Fragile. Breakable.

  My heart starts to beat hard in my chest.

  I want to go to him, but I find myself taking a step back.

  I don’t think I can help him. I shouldn’t be here. Coming up here was a mistake.

  I’m just about to turn and leave when the nurse comes up beside me. “Don’t let all the tubes scare you, honey. They’re just there to help him breathe until he’s strong enough to do it himself. Why don’t you go say hello?” she urges gently.

  I stare blankly down at her.

  My mouth is dry. My pulse is thumping so hard that blood is roaring in my ears.

  Tru should be here. She should be seeing him with me. It shouldn’t be this way.

  This is wrong.

  I swallow back the tears burning my throat.

  Somehow I manage a step forward. Then another. Until I reach the incubator.

  I stare down at him through the clear unit.

  He looks just like Tru. Exactly like her. Perfect in every way possible.

  And it hurts in every way imaginable.

  He’s even smaller close up. There’s a tube taped to his little nose and a little white knitted hat on his head.

  “How much does he weigh?” I ask.

  “Two pounds, seven ounces. ”

  My heart sinks. Two pounds, seven ounces. Jesus, he weighs about the same as a bag of sugar.

  My hand reaches out to him before I even realise I’m doing it. I stop myself, clenching my hand into a fist.

  “You can touch him,” the nurse says. “Just clean your hands with this first. ”

  Coming over, she squeezes some sanitizer into my hand. I rub the cold gel over my hands until it’s gone.

  “I’ll give you a moment alone. ”

  “Is he going to be okay?” My words come out ragged.

  “You’ve got a fighter there, honey. He’s gonna be just fine. ” She touches my arm briefly, and then she’s gone. And I’m left alone with him.

  My son.

  I get down to my knees, putting me at face level with him. His little face is turned toward me.

  He’s got Tru’s full lips.

  I reach my trembling hand through the porthole, and resting my palm flat on the mattress, I reach my little finger out to his tiny hand, and I touch him.

  In this moment, I’ve never felt anything like it.

  Love.

  It’s different from the love I feel for Tru. But equally as strong. It’s an all-consuming need to protect him forever. To keep him safe from any pain. Like the pain I’m feeling right now.

  It chokes me to tears.

  I stroke my finger gently along his hand, and as I do, his fingers curl around it, holding o
n to me.

  He needs me.

  Salty tears trickle down my cheeks and into my mouth.

  Pressing my lips together, I rest my forehead against the incubator.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there…” I whisper. “So very sorry. ”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jake. ”

  Hearing Josh’s voice behind me, I pull my head back from the incubator, away from my son. I blink up at Josh.

  Tru.

  I gently slip my finger from my son’s hand and stand up. My legs are stiff and aching. And my heart is painful in my chest.

  “Tru’s out of surgery. They’re transferring her to a private room. You can go down and see her. ”

  “Is she…?” My heart pauses. I swallow past the fear. “Is she okay?”

  Josh runs his hand over his face. “All I’ve been told is they got the bleeding under control and managed to relieve the pressure off her brain, but there is still significant swelling. The resident neurosurgeon, Dr. Kish, who led on Tru’s surgery, is waiting downstairs to talk to you before you go in to see her. ”

  To prepare me.

  Fear slithers down my spine.

  I see Josh’s eyes move to the incubator. He takes a step closer. “He’s beautiful, Jake. Really beautiful. ”

  Just like his mom.

  I nod. “Thank you. ”

  “Shall we go?” Josh gestures to the door.

  I take a hesitant step forward.

  There are so many emotions going through me right now. Mostly fear, but I’m also torn.

  I need to see Tru with a desperate, painful ache, but I feel like I can’t leave my son alone either.

  Seeming to sense my distress, Josh says, “Stuart’s waiting right outside. He wants to talk to you before you see Tru. Do you want him to sit with the baby while you see her?”

  “Yes,” I exhale, briefly closing my eyes. If I was going to entrust my son to anyone, it would be Stuart.

  Turning, I reach my hand through the porthole again and touch his tiny arm lightly. “I’ll be back soon. ”

  I give him one last parting look, then follow Josh out of the room.

  I pull the door closed behind me and find Stuart leant against the wall. His eyes are red and puffy.

  Pushing from the wall, he comes over. “How is he?”

  “He’s…good. ” I push my hands in my front jean pockets.

  Perfect. Beautiful. Everything his mom is.

  “How does he look?”

  “Like Tru. ” Raw, acute pain tears through me. I stare past Stuart, at the wall. Tears push at my eyes. I close them. I never thought there would be a day that it would be painful for me to speak her name. “He looks exactly like his mom—beautiful. ”

  I hear his choked breath.

  As I open my eyes, I catch him swiping a tear.

  “Tru’s mom and dad are on the way to the airport now. I took care of all the arrangements. I chartered them on a private jet. They’ll be here first thing in the morning. ”

  “Thank you. ” I push my hand through my hair. “How did they take it?”

  Stuart shakes his head.

  He doesn’t need to say anything. I know exactly how they took it. I felt it the moment Stuart told me.

  Devastation. Complete and utter devastation.

  “I spoke to your mom. I got her and Dale a private flight in too. They’re coming straight to the hospital as soon as they land. ”

  “Okay. Thank you for calling them. ” I swallow past the burning in my throat. “How are you doing?” I ask him. “I know how much Tru means to you. ”