That Baby

by Jillian Dodd

  "Do you know for sure they were taking her to the hospital?"

  His tone is off. Coach is always so direct. "What aren't you saying?"

  He sighs. "There was a coroner's van there."

  My heart sinks into my stomach.

  "But, but . . . they told me they were taking her to the hospital."

  "I'm saying a prayer she made it, son. Text me and let me know if things are okay."

  I don't reply as the phone slides out of my hand.

  I get to the hospital, find somewhere to park, and stagger into the emergency room.

  A nurse recognizes me right away.

  "You're Danny Diamond, aren't you?" She says it in that flustered-tone older women get when they meet me. Jay says it's because they've been picturing me naked. She always knows how to make me laugh. How to make me forget I'm nervous.

  "My friend, Jadyn Reynolds--er, Mackenzie--was in an car accident. She's pregnant. I'm looking for her husband."

  She looks motherly and less flustered when she hears Jadyn's name. She takes my hand in hers and pats it.

  "I'm sorry," she says as she leads me down the hall.

  I see Phillip.

  He's wearing scrubs and sitting on a folding chair outside of an operating room.

  All by himself.

  His head is down and he's sobbing uncontrollably.

  I rush over, sliding onto my knees in front of him.

  He looks at me through tear-drowned eyes, raises his chin, and almost imperceptibly shakes his head.

  Just shakes his head.

  Like he used to do on the football field.

  Like he did that night at the party.

  And I know my best friend is dead.

  Jadyn is dead.

  And I'll never be the same.

  We're both crying like girls.

  Sobbing.

  Phillip is hysterical. "How am I going to make it without her?" he cries.

  He keeps asking me over and over.

  "How am I going to make it without her?"

  I don't have an answer.

  The hole in my own heart feels big enough to kill me.

  Please, God, give him back his Princess.

  Give me back my best friend.

  My partner in crime.

  Because I don't know what I'm going to do without her either.

  "I'm here for you," I say, putting my arm around his shoulder.

  It sounds lame, but it's all I've got.

  Jadyn

  I float up to the bright lights in the surgery room and see a man walking toward me.

  A man I recognize even before I can clearly make out his features.

  "Dad!" I say, running to him and hugging him tightly.

  He doesn't say anything, just takes my hand and points at what's going on below us.

  Phillip is standing beside me, holding my hand.

  They've cut my abdomen open and are pulling the baby out.

  The baby looks bluish and doesn't make a sound. They quickly whisk it out of the room.

  I turn to my dad and cry out. "Are they going to be able to save the baby? Is that why we're watching? Where did they take the baby? How does this all work?"

  My dad kisses me on the cheek but doesn't answer my questions.

  "Why isn't Mom here?" I ask, but he just nods again toward what's going on below.

  The surgeon says the abruption was worse than they thought.

  Someone else says that I've lost too much blood.

  Someone announces that I've coded.

  A nurse grabs Phillip and tries to drag him away from me, but he resists.

  "Code Blue?" he asks, panic spreading across his face.

  "Get him out of here!" someone yells.

  "NO!" he screams. "I'm not going anywhere! Someone needs to tell me what's happening!"

  "Sir, you need to leave." He grabs Phillip by the shoulder and tries to force him away from me. There are tears in Phillip's eyes but he looks pissed. Like he's going to punch the guy. "We need you to leave now."

  Phillip is holding my hand and won't let go. I turn my palm over and study it. Even though it's empty, I can somehow still feel Phillip's firm grip.

  "I'm not leaving," Phillip says, standing up straighter, showing the man six-foot-three-inches of muscle.

  Phillip doesn't want to leave me.

  I don't want him to leave either.

  I don't want him to let go of my hand.

  But I know he has to. He doesn't need to see this.

  I don't want him to watch me die.

  Two people grab ahold of him, but he still manages to bend down next to me. I can tell that he's yelling at me, but his voice sounds really far away.

  Like a whisper.

  I can hear his voice, but it sounds almost like an echo. Like he's really far away even though he's standing right next to me.

  "Stay with me, Princess. I need you. Don't you leave me. Don't you dare leave me. I need you."

  "I said get him out of here!" the doctor's voice booms, but I feel it more in my chest than I hear it with my ears.

  Phillip is being forcefully removed from the room, but his hand is still outstretched toward mine, not wanting to let go.

  It reminds me of when my dad pulled me out of the tree when we were little. How Phillip's hand was still stretched out, trying to hold on to me.

  Tears start streaming down my face.

  But as I touch my cheek to brush them away, I can't feel them.

  "You'll always be my Angel," dad says to me, snapping his finger and causing Jesus to appear.

  "Does Jesus greet everyone?" I whisper to my dad.

  "I don't know," Dad says. "This is your deal."

  "Why isn't he talking?"

  Dad shrugs.

  "Ohmigawd--I mean, gosh--he knows, doesn't he?"

  "Knows what?"

  "I wasn't always an angel, Dad."

  I start telling Dad all the bad things I did. "I lusted after my neighbor's father. I stole your car when I was fourteen and drove it with my friend."

  "Danny?" Dad asks.

  I nod. So does Jesus. He doesn't seem surprised.

  So I keep going.

  "We did stuff to our neighbor's house one Halloween, but it was all in good fun. Really, everything I've done that was bad was mostly in good fun. I may have been a glutton for alcohol and possibly Mrs. Mac's food. I was disrespectful to her today, and she's my elder. And, oh gosh, I had sex in the church parking lot, not to mention sex before marriage. I may have made an effigy of a pastor and burned it in my mind, but I would never do that or make hotdogs that looked like him in real life. I've lied sometimes, but mostly white lies. I cussed in church, but not out loud. I did drugs"--I speak to Jesus directly --"but only the natural kind that your father made."

  I study Jesus more closely.

  "You know, you look exactly like the picture that hangs in the Sunday school room at my church." I take in his long hair, robe, and the crown of flowers on his head. "Jesus, are you a hippie?" I ask.

  Jesus smiles and flashes me a peace sign.

  "Why isn't my Mom here? And where is my baby?"

  Jesus pulls a wand out from under the sleeve of his robe and says a spell, causing my mother to appear.

  "Wait, are you a wizard? Did you go to Hogwarts, like ever?"

  Jesus and my dad disappear as my mom sits down next to me on a white, slipcovered couch. I realize everything around us has changed. The room we are in now looks like my mom decorated it.

  "Is this heaven or, like, the waiting room?"

  "Jadyn," Mom says, touching my arm. "There's something you need to see." She picks up a remote from a coffee table made from a polished tree log and hits a button, causing a picture to appear on the wall.

  "Is that how you keep up with your loved ones on Earth? Did you know I was pregnant? Did you get to watch my wedding? Will I get to see Phillip that way? You know when you died, I was on my way to the hospital and I swear that I felt you holding my should
er. Was that you?"

  "Watch," she says.

  On the screen is what appears to be a video of Phillip and me in the police car on the way to the hospital. Only, somehow, I hear my own thoughts.

  Please let them be okay. Whooh, whooh, whooh. Please let them be okay. Whooh, whooh, whooh. Please let them be okay.

  Maybe this whole fucked up night is just some bad, horrible, messed up dream.

  I look around to see if Jesus heard me swearing. Thankfully, he is gone.

  I watch myself slowly open my eyes. I remember hoping it was a dream. But instead I see Phillip looking scared.

  So it's not a dream.

  Okay. I need to mentally prepare myself. Be rational. Whatever this is, I can handle it. Obviously, they are hurt badly if they are being airlifted. But lots of people get better after bad car wrecks. You see it on television all the time. Broken bones heal; scars can be fixed.

  They are going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

  We're almost to the hospital. I can see it up ahead. I feel a hand on my shoulder, so I lean my head toward it and touch my cheek to it. I take a long, slow breath and feel myself relax. I feel comforted.

  Only this version is different. I can actually see the faint image of my mother standing next to me, holding my shoulder. "It was you," I say.

  "Of course. Always trust your heart, Jadyn. There are some other things you need to see."

  She changes the channel and up on the screen is my father, sitting in a rocking chair. He's surrounded by clouds, but in what appears to be the nursery I designed.

  She zooms in closer and I see what he's holding.

  A baby.

  My baby.

  I freak out.

  "No!" I cry out. "I told them to save the baby! Where is the baby? Why can't I see it!? Hold it? Oh, god. What's Phillip going to do without us?"

  My mom flips the channel again.

  Now I see Phillip. He's sitting in an empty hallway at the hospital, scrubs on. His head is down and he's sobbing.

  Which makes me cry harder even though I can't feel the tears.

  I move toward the screen, putting my hand on top of his shoulder. He reaches up and puts his hand on top of mine.

  And I feel it.

  "Can he feel that too? Does he know it's me?" I ask Mom.

  "When the love is strong, yes," she says.

  I start sobbing hysterically. "Mom, heaven won't be heaven without Phillip."

  She flips the channel again, the screen turning completely black.

  I can't see anything but I can feel everything.

  And I mean everything.

  Not pain exactly.

  More like emotions.

  So many conflicting emotions, but rising to the top is an overwhelming sadness that our baby didn't make it. When I signed the directive, somehow, I knew. Knew this was happening. But I hoped our baby would survive and be with Phillip.

  In a happy, fairytale world I'd be fine. The baby would be fine. They'd smile, tell us the baby's sex, and then gently lay it into my arms as Phillip cut the cord.

  That was the plan.

  I remember my grandma telling me something about God's plans versus our plans.

  I look over my shoulder and see a group of people behind a sheer curtain. And I know my grandma is there. Waiting for me. I can feel her presence.

  Then I hear Grandpa's voice in my head. If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.

  Is he telling me I can bullshit my way through this?

  Is that why I'm in heaven?

  Is there some way I can affect the baby not dying?

  I see a flash of white.

  No, I feel a flash of white.

  Like lightning.

  Then I'm overcome with extreme panic.

  Our baby. Our baby.

  Our baby.

  Our baby.

  Save our baby.

  Please, save our baby.

  Words are clawing inside my throat, but unable to be released.

  I feel hysteria.

  Pain.

  Clear.

  Chaos.

  Peace.

  Then more white, brighter now than ever before.

  I know intuitively that they are trying to revive me.

  But I also know it's not meant to be, because the picture comes back on the wall.

  I see Phillip in our backyard, building a swing set.

  This makes me mad.

  "It's not fair, Mom! I don't understand. First Phillip loses you and Dad and then me and the baby. How is he going to handle that?"

  Mom nods toward the screen, causing me to look more closely at Phillip.

  He looks different. There are little crinkles around his eyes, his hair looks darker, and he's heavier.

  "Wait, what is this? When is this? Why would Phillip be building a swing set?"

  "Watch," she says.

  A few moments later, Danny, Lori, and a bunch of children join him in the backyard. Two adorable dark-haired boys yell at him. "Daddy, Daddy! Is it done? Can we swing now?"

  He picks up the younger of the two, twirls him around, and then sets him on the top of the slide. The child happily screams his way down. He tickles the other boy, throws him up over his shoulder, and then puts him on one of the swings and starts pushing him.

  "Higher, Daddy! Higher!"

  It's a sweet moment. The love Phillip has for his children is apparent and my heart fills with joy seeing him happy.

  Until a dark-haired woman walks into the picture, kisses Phillip, and hands him a beer.

  My heart drops.

  Falls.

  Shatters.

  Breaks in two.

  No.

  Please.

  No.

  But then I realize that's selfish of me.

  Of course, I want Phillip to go on with life.

  Without me.

  I want him to be happy. And he looks happy with her. I also notice there is no blonde child.

  Our baby didn't survive.

  Phillip runs his hand across a spot on the wood. Through his eyes, I see what he touched. Carved in the wood, just like he carved it into the tree in his backyard when we were young, are three sets of initials.

  J.R.

  +

  P.M.

  +

  D.D.

  =

  BFFs 4Ever

  Danny stands next to him. "I miss her."

  "I'll miss her forever," Phillip says.

  From behind me, I hear the sound of someone yelling Clear again.

  "Is this the future?" I ask Mom.

  Mom shrugs. "Time doesn't exist here. Not in the way you're used to. Time folds on top of itself."

  "So past, present, and future as one? Predetermined?"

  Mom hesitates then nods.

  "So what I saw, there with Phillip, it's already happened or it is happening?"

  She shrugs.

  "I thought when you got to heaven that all would be revealed?"

  She shrugs again, which is very frustrating.

  "What the hell, Mom?"

  "Jadyn James! Watch your language!"

  Then she disappears.

  Apparently that's a word you don't say when you are in heaven.

  Maybe unless you want to end up there.

  And I don't.

  I close my eyes and see Phillip with someone else.

  My eyes burst open and I grab the remote.

  Maybe this thing goes backwards, so I can see Phillip when we were together. So while I'm here, I can relive all our happy moments.

  Isn't that what heaven is supposed to be about?

  I click the rewind button, stopping on a time when Phillip and I are about four years old.

  Then I close my eyes. I don't need a TV to remember all the precious moments with him.

  His lips are ringed with purple as he smiles at me, breaks the popsicle, and hands me half.

  His sword slices through the air as he pretends to protect
me from a dragon.

  His eyes holding mine as my dad pulls me out of the tree and tells me I can't play with him anymore.

  His lips touching mine when we're on the swings behind school.

  He runs up the hill, turns around, and yells back, 'Will you marry me someday?'

  One beautiful brown eye winking at me as he throws a soccer ball to me during recess. 'I'll play with you.'

  The shy grin he gives me when I tell him he acted like a prince today.

  The dreamy sound of his voice as he says, 'Hey, Princess.'

  His warm arms wrapping around me.

  Finding me in the stands after he catches a game-winning pass.

  His hand in mine, squeezing it, and keeping me going when I need it most.

  Standing in front of me, dressed for a date, tire iron in hand. 'Phillip to the rescue.'

  A worried look when he discovers I have a fever and his shocked voice. 'Princess, you're burning up!'

  Kicked back on the couch, a beer in hand, looking scrumptious. 'I'll play spin the bottle with you.'

  Heartbreak written across his face when I place my engagement ring on his desk and walk out.

  Sweetness and love in his voice when he drops to his knee in the snow and asks me to marry him again.

  Happiness and lust as he rushes up the stairs to see me in my wedding dress.

  Panic in his eyes when he thinks I'm upset he turned my parents' wedding rings into a beautiful necklace.

  Love and devotion as we're standing under an altar made of branches and his promise to always rescue me.

  A sexy smirk when we're on our honeymoon before he pounces on me.

  His happy, surprised look when I tell him I'm pregnant.

  The joy written all over his face and vibrating from his body when he hears the baby's heartbeat for the first time.

  Sincereness in his voice when he tells me he understands about the nursery. 'Love is all that matters.'

  I could do this forever, reliving every perfect moment with him.

  I open my eyes and look around at the all white room.

  I can see the people behind the curtain now, like they're just outside a window.

  I can't see their faces clearly and I'm not sure who they all are, but I know that I know them.

  And I know they are waiting for me.

  Waiting for me to join them.

  And, maybe, waiting for me to understand.

  What they don't know is that I do understand. I know exactly what my heaven is.

  It's Phillip.

  I'm not going to join them. I can't. I'm staying here and watching Phillip TV until he joins me in eternity.

  But then I think about our baby.

  About my dad holding it.

  And I know I have to go.

  I need to be with our baby.

  A scene flicks on the screen even though I didn't touch the remote.

  Danny is rushing down the hall.