by HJ Bellus
“I begged her to have a baby. I fucking pleaded with her and now it’s gone. All gone. Everything.”
“You don’t know that, Tripp. Lacey’s a fighter.”
“You know what, golden boy? Things don’t work out in my world. I don’t get happy endings like you. So don’t fucking tell me she’s a fighter.”
Cree pulled up to the hospital and my body flew out of the truck in search of my Princess and Rose. The emergency room was quiet and that shot chills up and down my spine.
“Excuse me. I’m looking for Lacey Fitzpatrick.”
“Are you Tripp?” She asked. And then continued with, “Oh wait, she was begging for a guy named douche bag.”
“Yes. That’s me,” I said.
My shoulders slumped in relief because my spitfire was asking for her douche bag.
“I’ll let the doctor fill you in,” the nurse replied as she led me to Lacey.
When she tugged back the curtain, my heart stopped and danced all in the same beat. My Lacey was lying in the bed with a bruised and cut face, only recognizable from her tattoos and crimson stained hair. She was hooked up to all sorts of gadgets and monitors. Her eyes were glued to the baby heart monitor. The rhythmic and steady beat of Rose’s heart filled the room.
My body took me to her side because my brain couldn’t comprehend a thing. I grabbed her hand and brought it the short distance to my lips. I’d never let go of my Princess.
“Tripp,” she breathed out as she revealed her whole face to me. Her eyes were practically swollen shut from crying and all the bruising from the impact of the wreck. Her beautiful face was so hurt.
“We are going to lose her,” she whispered up to me.
I couldn’t lie to my girl, so I just shook my head no.
“I went to buy us ice cream and burritos and all of a sudden, the Jeep started rolling. I held her, Tripp. I clutched her with my arms. I promise! I protected my Meatball the whole time. I know I cuss and do inappropriate things, but I want her. I protected her.”
Lacey’s whispers were gone and she was now bawling uncontrollably, hysterical at the idea of not being able to protect her Meatball.
“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re here and our butterflies are here. It will be okay.”
The words barely left my mouth when Dr. Wyman walked in.
“Let’s see how our Meatball is doing.”
Dr. Wyman went about his business of checking Lacy. He was intense and very serious, but kept up the small talk for Lacey’s peace of mind. All I could do was hold her and kiss the one piece of her hair that wasn’t blood soaked, because I was too afraid to put any amount of pressure to her battered face.
About five minutes in, all hell broke loose. Lacey let out a blood curdling scream of anguished pain and the baby’s monitor went wild. Dr. Wyman went pale and called for a nurse and an OR room stat.
Lacey’s screams didn’t stop. She was in so much pain, and I could only fucking watch as the pain ate her body alive. I needed to hit something, punish it and demolish everything in sight, to help take her pain away.
“Tripp, it hurts. It’s ripping. Something is ripping from my body. Just like that day-it’s being ripped away from me,” Lacey barely finished her sentence before another wave of pain hit her full force.
Milly was now on her other side. She grabbed Lacey’s face, and was nose to nose with her. Lacey violently yelled through the pain and then clung to Milly.
“I’m losing Rose,” Lacey admitted through her sobs.
Nose to nose, Milly let Lacey have it only in a way Milly could. It was a soul sisterhood acting out right in front of me. I was too scared to do anything or help Lacey, so thank god for Milly.
“You. Are. Not. Losing. Anything. Today. You. Dumbass. Fight. Remember fight, because your baby’s coming today. Remember those words.”
Milly exposed her tits to the ER. What kind of fucking tactic was she resorting to? Was she planning on nursing Lacey?
“I was planning on your dumbass coming over tonight for dinner. I’ve had the shittiest day of my life, and I thought Swedish Fish with my fishter was the ticket to a little piece of happiness. So, I stuck some damn fish down my bra, so they’d be warm before I went out to the shop. Now, I’m standing in a hospital with Swedish Fish in my bra, so you fucking lil’ twat waffle better put some giddy in your go and fucking fight.”
“I love you, Milly. Never forget that,” Lacey whispered as the pain subsided for a sliver of time.
Dr. Wyman returned and wasted no time in comforting any of us, “Lacey, we are taking your baby via emergency C-section. We are losing the baby, and have to move fast.”
A team of nurses and doctors rushed in and took my life out the door. I tried to follow, but was held back.
My knees hit the floor and I finally cried. I cried in fear of losing my baby and my wife all in the same day. Somehow Milly pulled me to my feet and we both sank onto a couch in the waiting area. Milly held me while I let it all out.
Cree joined us in the waiting room, sitting on the other side of me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.
Cree didn’t deserve my outburst of anger towards him. Yes, he had the life we all wanted, but it wasn’t his fault. Cree didn’t say word, but just held my hand as we continued to wait. It felt like hours, even days, but the clock on the wall revealed we had been waiting twelve whole, fucking minutes.
A commotion at the nurse’s desk caught all of our attention, or maybe it was the waft of stale alcohol. It was Cody. Perfect! I needed something to hurt. I didn’t have a chance to move a muscle before Cree had knocked the sonofabitch to the ground and started pounding his face in.
Milly and I sat there and watched. Both us knew that we all wanted him dead and didn’t have the want or drive to stop Cree from making it happen. An officer finally pulled Cree off and warned him to stay away. Cody was cuffed and quickly escorted from our sights.
It was in that moment, I remembered the letter I received from my dad a couple weeks before Halloween. I had carried it around in my pocket not having the courage to open it. Right now, I needed the pain from his words, and the hatred from his soul, to make me feel better. I popped open the letter and started reading. Milly’s curiosity piqued and she tried to read over my shoulder.
Tripp-
I have wanted to give you this letter for a very long time. I respected your mother’s wishes by not telling you this. I have despised you since the day you were born. Tripp, there was never anything you could do to make me love you or even like you. You tried your hardest and I pushed you away. I pushed you straight into your shitty future, filled with drugs and failure because that is what you deserved.
On my death bed I can finally tell you that you are a talented ball player. And I can only admit this because I am dying. I sent you to Colorado all those summers for a reason. You needed to spend time with your real dad. I am not your dad. Your mother’s first love was my brother, John. I found them together in the barn, and it devastated me. I begged your mom to stay with me. She did, and I moved her clear across the country from John. Two months later we found out she was pregnant. It could only be my brother’s child because I had never been with your mom. You see, I had morals, unlike my brother and you.
I told her I would love her through it all, and I did. I never promised I would love you. I tried, but Jesus Christ, you looked more like my brother than his own son did. This is not a letter of forgiveness for my brother, your mom or you. Rather a letter of understanding. Now you know why I made you sit in the car during your brother’s games. It was because I didn’t want the spawn of my brother to suck the joy out of every ounce of my life.
Moving her clear across the country wasn’t far enough, because she was bearing his child. I do apologize for keeping your mother’s secret all these years. You should have had the chance to be loved by John, Cree and Willow as a son and brother. John knew you were his. I told him to stay away from your mom and, in turn, I promised to let
you spend the summers with him.
Robert
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” a young nurse called tentatively into the waiting room.
My head was spinning with clarity. Now it all made perfect sense as to why my father could spew hatred my way. The letter fell from my hands, just as any ounce of love I had for my father fell to the floor, never to be seen or acknowledged again.
“Here,” I said, as I bounded up to her with Milly, and then Cree, right on my heels.
“Congratulations! You’re baby girl is alive and healthy at seven pounds, four ounces. You’ll be able to see her in about ten minutes.”
When the nurse finished, a team of doctors raced down the hall and into the OR.
“My wife?”
“Sir, right now the doctors are doing everything they can,” the nurse offered.
“What? Rose is okay, so Lacey has to be. WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” I roared.
“She’s lost a lot of blood and is still bleeding. The doctors also have to relieve the swelling in her brain. It is not looking good, but they are doing everything they can.”
“No,” I said refusing to accept her information.
“Sir, the nurses will be out in a few minutes to take you back to see your daughter.”
Relief hit me that my Rose was healthy, but dread filled, me creating an evil mixture of hatred and despair. I needed Lacey. Rose needed Lacey. Fuck! We all needed Lacey in our lives. I dropped to the floor as the nurse’s words truly registered in my grief stricken state. And that’s when Milly lost her shit and I couldn’t even help Cree stop her.
“What the fuck, Jenny? Your name is Jenny, right? That’s what your name tag says, or did you dig that out of the fucking dumpster? Who gives you the fucking right to come out here and announce to the goddamn world that my best friend is not looking good and that her chances of survival are slim? Are you a fucking neurosurgeon? Nope! That’s what I thought. Why don’t you go back to wiping asses and mopping up puke, the job you’re really being paid to do. Oh, and the next time you want to predict the livelihood of my sister, you better check yourself.”
Milly cocked back her arm and let it fly. Cree stopped her before she could land a punch straight to Jenny’s grill. Fuck, why did he stop her? I totally agreed with Milly and wanted to see her beat the living fuck out of the woman who so brazenly announced Lacey’s soon departure. Milly turned on Cree and let him experience all of her anger. She finally melted into a puddle on the floor next to me, while Cree slumped down next to us.
When he was convinced that Milly and I were no longer on the fight, he tried to settle us down. “Listen you two. Just focus on Rose. Lacey would want that. Focus on Rose,” Cree repeated to us.
I had to focus on Rose because I couldn’t even let my mind begin to think about other possibilities. The dark world without Lacey. To have her baby, around us as a daily reminder of my wild princess, but not to be able to see or touch her would be my own personal living hell. My mind couldn’t go there. I needed to be with my Rose.
***
We walked into the nursery, and I instantly spotted the little name tag with a printed pink footprint by it that read Baby Fitzpatrick. The sight of that last name made my blood fucking boil, but the little black inked footprint by it iced down my hatred for my last name.
Being too big of a chicken to walk any closer, I froze in place. Our sweet baby was now a matter of feet from me, and I was scared. No, make that fucking terrified. I was scared of being a shitty dad, scared of losing Lacey and mostly fucking scared of seeing Lacey in Rose.
Milly corndogged me from the back, urging me closer to my girl. The closer I got, the more my anxiety heightened with a weird combination of excitement and fear.
I peeked into the small plastic tub she laid in and melted physically into a heaping pile of goo. My Rose was bundled up in a soft pale pink blanket. She had wild blonde hair that scattered out in every direction, just like her momma’s I thought. That simple thought and her delicate hair spread a smile across my face. Her bright blue eyes and full pink cheeks were her prominent features. Without thinking, I scooped her up into my arms. She was light as could be, but the heaviest thing I had ever touched. My lips found her forehead and stayed there as the tears flowed.
“I’m your daddy, sweet little baby. Your mommy is coming to be with you. She loves you and is fighting for you.”
I peeled my lips away from her to memorize every single one of her tiny features again.
“I love you, Rose Grant Fitzpatrick.”
Rose began to wiggle and then let out a little squawk of disapproval, and then into a full-fledged cry. Milly rushed to my side and tried to take Rose from my arms. I instantly stopped her from touching Lacey’s baby girl.
“I’m sorry, Milly. No one besides the doctors and nurses are going to touch Rose. Lacey will be the first to hold her besides me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Milly whispered up to me.
I simply shrugged my shoulders and said, “Take it or leave it, Milly.”
“Fine. You are an asshole,” Milly conceded. “Can I go get a bottle of formula for you, or do you plan on nursing her too?”
We started to laugh at the scene before us. If we weren’t going to laugh, then we might as well lay down and die at this point.
“Shut it, ho-bag,” I replied through a mixture of laughing and happy tears. Then offered her a look that expressed, “That’s what Lacey would say, right?”
“You nailed it, biotch,” Milly said.
There was something about Milly calling me a biotch that really unleashed buckets of laughter in us. Little Rose reminded us of her extreme hunger with her wailing cry.
Chapter 25
The Beautiful End
Tripp
Three days later
Milly, Cree and I sat in Lacey’s room, and today Mac joined the crowd. Today was the day she either woke up or her chances of being in a coma for life greatened. When the internal bleeding finally stopped, the doctors noticed her brain swelling. Lacey was hooked up to all sorts of monitors.
They took out the tube from her head yesterday leaving a chunk of blonde hair missing from her scalp. Milly took it upon herself to style Lacey’s hair, claiming that Lacey would kick her ass if she let her lay there, looking like shit. I had no fucking clue how Milly did it, but she left Lace with a trendy, short style. One side was longer with the other side clipped short. Lacey rocked that shit lying in that hospital bed unconscious.
Milly was perched in her spot in Lacey’s bed holding her. She hasn't left her side since Lacey came out of surgery. Hours were spent styling and restyling Lacey’s hair and talking to her. She even ate candy in bed with her. Yes, the Swedish Fish from the bra. Sometimes I wished that I didn’t know the crazy shit these two did together. I caught Milly crying and sobbing into Lacey’s hair several times. Milly’s heart was bleeding and wouldn’t stop until she had her sister back. Milly also made it perfectly clear that I would not be kicking her out. Since she couldn’t hold Rose, she needed to hold Lacey. She needed Lacey. I let her hold her because I knew Lace needed Milly as much as she needed Rose and me.
Cree was perched in the chair at the end of the bed with Mac on his lap, trying to get him to talk. I was swaying back and forth rocking my sweet Meatball next to the bed. Silence filled the room as we waited, and the air was laced with tension, fear and hope. It was a strange combination. Any minute now my pretty girl would wake up, I could feel it in my bones. Lacey was battling with her fighter's heart to make it home to her family. The day floated by with this hope and then the evening took over.
Lacey's eyes fluttered open and we all froze with hopeful tension. Milly was in her face jabbering away.
"Back up, bimbo," Lacey finally slurred.
My Lacey was back. Milly backed up and we all gave her a couple minutes to adjust. Cree went and grabbed the nurse. Ironically, it was Jenny. I’m pretty sure this would be a huge lesson for the poor girl.
Twenty minutes later I was finally able to walk over to Lacey and hand her Rose.
"She's mine?" She questioned with the clear expression of not being ready to be heart broken.
"She's all yours, pretty girl," I said through my tears.
“God didn't take her?”
"He gave her to you."
And the tears started to flow yet again.
"I love you, Princess" I whispered into her lips.
A soft kiss was never enough for her. Lacey kissed me back hard and full of passion. She didn't pull away, so I finally had to break it. Lacey wrapped my arm around her and nestled in holding Rose.
"Can I hold her?" Milly asked.
"Jesus Christ, I just woke up from a coma and had a baby cut from me..." Lacey was protesting when Milly cut her off.
"Tripp wouldn't let anyone hold her. I haven't even been able to touch her. He wanted you to be the first."
Lacey turned to me, "You are such a raging asshole. But you’re mine and I love you. Thank you."
Lacey passed Rose to Milly and turned to me. "I love you. I'm never driving again. I bought us burritos and ice cream to celebrate. I love you, Tripp. For reals, I'm never driving again."
"You don't have to, Princess. Most princesses don't drive anyway. I'm not sure about those kinds of rebel princesses though."
“Tripp, I’m ready to be a pussy princess,” Lacey said.
We held each other tightly, exporting every ounce of our love to each other. I was never going to let her go. We both watched as Milly inspected Rose. She counted each of her toes and fingers, and showered kisses all over her pretty little face. While holding Mac back, Cree bent down and kissed Rose's forehead and whispered something to her.
“Has she shit that black stuff yet?” Lacey asked.
“Lacey! Are you ever going to be normal? Why do I even try? You know it is called meconium,” I growled at her.
I tried teaching her all this stuff over the last few months. Obviously it was a lost cause.
