Unexpected Fight

by Kaylee Ryan

  That’s pretty much how the day goes. Kendall trades Ridge, Everly for Beck, while Dawn takes Ben. “Babe, we should have a cookout at our place every weekend,” I tell Reagan.

  “Right?” She laughs. “Y’all do diapers too, right?” she teases.

  It’s a great day with family and friends. The twins love all the attention, and my wife and I are enjoying a break.

  “Come on, little man. If you cry, I have to give you back to your mommy,” Kent whispers to Beck, who’s getting restless.

  “He’s hungry,” Reagan says, reaching for the diaper bag and mixing up two bottles. “We’ll take them.”

  “What? You don’t trust us?” Seth speaks up from where he’s sitting across the patio, holding Ben.

  “Of course we do. I just didn’t want to assume you’d feed them.”

  “Hand over the bottle, woman.” Kent grins.

  My wife does as he says, then hands the other off to Seth, giving them each a receiving blanket just in case.

  I reach out for her as she heads back to her seat and pull her into my lap. Conversation lulls on until Seth breaks through our conversation.

  “Ty!” Seth yells, panicked. “He’s… something’s wrong,” he says. Worry is etched in his voice.

  Reagan jumps from my lap, and I’m hot on her heels as we rush to where Seth is sitting with Ben in his arms.

  “Oh my God,” Reagan cries.

  One look at my son and I know something is seriously wrong. His color is bluish and he doesn’t appear to be breathing. “Kendall!” I shout, but she’s already standing next to us, pulling Ben from Seth’s arms and starting CPR.

  Somewhere in the blur of the background, I hear someone shout that they called 911. I watch as my sister-in-law breathes air into my son’s lungs.

  Reagan is in my arms; her cries hysterical. Her body is trembling. Then again, maybe that’s me.

  I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

  I hold my breath. Willing him to breathe.

  Seconds.

  Minutes.

  Hours.

  I’m not sure how much time passes.

  “Ben,” Reagan says with a sob at the same time we hear him cry. Her body slumps into mine, and I stumble slightly. My legs are jelly. I feel a strong arm on my shoulders, and a whispered voice, “Lean on me, brother.” I don’t know who it is. Mark I think. But I can’t take my eyes off my son.

  “Kendall?” I croak her name.

  She cradles Ben in her arms, tears streaming down her face. “He’s breathing,” she says as the sounds of the life squad blare in the distance.

  “W-What happened?” Reagan asks.

  “I’m not sure,” she says, not taking her eyes off Ben.

  I want to hold him. I want to reassure myself that he’s okay, but we don’t know that. I’m scared to death to hold my son, not knowing if he’s going to stop breathing again.

  “Ben,” Reagan weeps as we move toward them. His cries quiet at the sound of her voice. Reaching out, I offer him my finger, and he latches on with an iron grip.

  I still have the strength of someone behind me. Turning, I see Mark standing there, worry written all over his face. The next few minutes are a flurry of activity as the paramedics arrive. Kendall remains calm, and through her tears, relays the events and about how long she thinks he was out. Less than a minute, I hear her say. I’m thankful, but it felt as though it was a lifetime.

  “Hey.” Ridge comes over to us. “You two ride with him. We’ll take care of Beck.”

  I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. As if he knew what we needed, Kent appears at our side, and we each take a turn hugging Beck and telling him we’ll be back soon. Reagan climbs on the stretcher as instructed, and holds Ben in her arms. I wait until I’m given the okay, then climb in the back of the rig, leaning in close to them. My eyes are laser-focused on his little chest, watching the gentle rise and fall.

  The ride to the children’s hospital is a blur. I try to listen to what the paramedics are saying, but all I can do is stare at my baby boy lying in my wife’s arms hooked up to oxygen. It’s a sight I never thought I would see and one that will surely haunt my dreams for many nights to come.

  At the Emergency Room, I battle with my emotions as I watch doctors and nurses run test after test, and poke and prod our little boy. I will him to stay strong, to battle against whatever it is that caused this. What we thought was going to be a nice day with friends and family turned into a nightmare.

  Chapter 25

  Reagan

  * * *

  Congenital heart defect.

  We’ve been here for hours, so long that I’ve lost track of time, and they’ve just given us the official diagnosis. Ben was born with a hole in his heart. I have millions of questions running through my mind. How could this happen? Why my baby? How was this missed? All of which the physicians here at the children’s hospital have calmly answered. The care Ben is receiving is outstanding. We have a family room. Meaning, Ty and I get to stay here with him. No outside visitors, but we get to be here.

  My heart is split in two. It’s breaking for my son, who is currently lying here hooked up to machines. And then there’s Beckett, my baby boy who’s not with us. Does he have this same condition?

  “My advice would be to have him checked, just to make sure,” Dr. Langston says.

  Apparently, I asked that last one aloud. “So, he has a hole in his heart?” I say, trying like hell to keep the tears at bay. Trying to wrap my head around what that means for my baby boy.

  “How do you fix it?” Tyler asks from his spot beside me. His grip on my hand is tight, but I don’t mind. It’s a constant reminder that he’s here with me. I’m not going through this hellish nightmare alone.

  “There are two ways. Open-heart surgery and cardiac catheterization. I want to run some more tests just to be certain, but I believe that catheterization is the best treatment for Benjamin.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  Dr. Langston, who introduced himself as Ben’s pediatric cardiologist, nods. “It means that I’ll take a thin tube and insert it into a blood vessel in his leg. I’ll then guide the tube, or catheter if you will, to his heart. The catheter is equipped with special equipment so that I can see exactly where I am the entire time.” He pauses, letting us process what he’s said so far. “Benjamin has an atrial septal defect or ASD. It’s a hole in the heart that divides the two upper chambers. I’ll be placing a tiny patch, shaped almost like an umbrella over the hole. As Benjamin grows, the tissue will grow over the patch and create a natural barrier for the wall of the heart, keeping it together.”

  “And the other option?” Ty asks, his voice tight.

  “Open-heart surgery. We would cut open his chest to perform the same procedure. The recovery time is longer since it’s a more invasive surgery. However, I’m confident that we can repair Benjamin’s defect through catheterization. The hole is rather small. It’s important that we fix this issue quickly to prevent further episodes or give the hole time to grow larger, at which, open-heart surgery would be necessary.”

  “What does all of this mean for him?” I ask. “Can he live a normal life?”

  “Absolutely. The only real limitation is we would recommend he not participate in contact sports such as football. He’ll still be able to run and play like a normal child. He will need regular checkups and testing to ensure the patch is secure and that the tissue is growing over the patch as it should be.”

  “What are the risks?” I ask. I’m trying really hard to keep my emotions in check. My head is swarming with questions and fears. My heart is breaking for my baby boy.

  “As with any medical procedure, especially one such as this, there are risks. Medicine is not an exact science. I can assure you that I’ve performed this exact procedure countless times and that not doing the procedure has higher risks than the procedure itself.”

  “So, when do we do this? When do you fix his heart?” Ty asks.

 
; “Today. I’m going to order some more tests so that I have recent scans, but we go in today, with your permission, of course.”

  I look over at Ty and he nods. “Okay,” I agree.

  Dr. Langston bobs his head. “I’ve given you a lot of information. I’ll have the nurse bring you a packet that explains the procedure in detail. Take a look, and I’ll come back in an hour or so and answer any further questions you might have.” He stands and leaves the room.

  “Come here.” Ty pulls me into his lap.

  “He looks so tiny hooked up to all of these machines,” I say, looking at Ben sleeping in his bed.

  “He does,” he agrees. “He’s going to be okay.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he’s a fighter.”

  “What if Beck has the same thing?”

  “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

  “I should call and check in.”

  Standing from his lap, I go to the phone that sits in a small table. Local calls only, but we can’t use cell phones. Good thing we have such a stellar children’s hospital close by. Dialing my brother, it barely rings before he answers. “Hey,” I say, my voice cracking.

  “How is he?”

  “Stable. He’s a trooper. Beck?”

  “He’s doing just fine. Kendall just gave him a bath and is settling down to give him his bottle. Mom offered to come and get him, so did Helen when I called to fill them in, but I told them we had him. I thought you and Ty might need something and since we have Knox and Everly, it makes sense,” he explains.

  “Thank you. Beck. He’s… okay?”

  “Yeah, sister. He’s just fine. Kendall has been keeping a close eye on him.”

  “Thank you,” I say, battling my tears to stay at bay. “And Kendall, God, Ridge, she was incredible. I don’t know what we would have done if she wasn’t there.”

  “It all worked out,” he says, gruffness to his voice. “So.” He clears his throat. “What are they saying?”

  “He—” Tears choke me up, and Ty takes the phone from me. He pulls me into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around me. I listen as he explains Ben’s diagnosis and what the next steps are. My heart breaks all over again, listening to him tell it.

  “Thanks, man,” Ty says, and hangs up the phone. “You okay?” he asks me.

  “No.”

  My words must break something loose inside him. He holds me tighter as his chest heaves, and a sob breaks free. As we sit here in our son’s hospital room, we hold onto each other, seeking comfort in what our baby boy is about to endure.

  “He’s going to be okay,” Ty says with conviction. I can still hear the pain and sadness in his voice.

  “Knock, knock.” A nurse comes into the room. “We’re going to take Benjamin for another scan. You have some family waiting for you in the lobby,” she says. We both stand and watch her as she wheels our son, still in his bed, out of the room. Tyler laces his fingers through mine, and we go to the lobby to see whoever is here. The doctor has already told us that we wouldn’t be able to go with him, but that there would be a nurse by his side the entire time.

  When I see the room full, I pause, placing my hand over my mouth to try and muffle my cries. My parents, Tyler’s parents, Mark, Dawn, Seth, and Kent are all here. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the tears as my dad engulfs us both in his arms, my mom joining us. As we step away, Tyler’s parents do the same, then each of our friends. I want to tell them how thankful I am to have their support. That they’re here for us. For Ben. I just can’t seem to find the words. I can’t stop the tears long enough to try and speak to them.

  “They took him for another scan,” Tyler explains once all the hugs are passed out. “They want to take him into surgery today to repair the hole in his heart.” His voice cracks and my arms that are around his waist, hold him a little tighter.

  “How do they do that?” his mom asks.

  He explains the procedure the best he can from what Dr. Langston told us. “They’ve been great,” he adds.

  “That’s great news,” my mom says.

  “Hey, man. Feel like taking a walk?” Kent asks.

  Tyler looks down at me. “Go,” I tell him. “Get some fresh air.”

  “You too,” Dawn pipes up. “How about you and I go get some fresh air?”

  I nod. “Just a few minutes.”

  “We’ll stay here and call if anything changes,” my mom offers, my mother-in-law agreeing with her.

  “Thank you,” I tell our parents. Tyler presses a kiss to my temple and releases me. He and the guys walk one way, and I walk the other. Maybe some fresh air will do us some good.

  Chapter 26

  Tyler

  * * *

  My legs are like jelly as they carry me down the hall. I have no idea where I’m going. I just know the thought of some fresh air, of getting outside the walls of this hospital is what I’m searching for. I don’t look behind me to know the guys are there. All except for Ridge, who’s taking care of my son. The one who’s not hooked up to machines in a hospital bed. The one we don’t know if he has a heart condition or not.

  As soon as I reach the doors for the parking garage, I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Ridge. He answers on the first ring. “How’s Beck?” I ask in the way of greeting.

  “He’s doing great, man. He just had his bottle, and he’s lying on the floor with Everly.

  Tears burn behind my eyes. “Thanks,” I croak.

  “He’s in good hands, brother. You don’t worry about a thing. He’s happy and healthy. He’s safe.”

  “That’s just it, man. We don’t know. He could have it too. We don’t know,” I say, my voice gravely.

  “One day at a time, Ty. Kendall is a pediatric nurse. He’s in good hands. If we think for a second something is wrong, we’ll call the paramedics. Let’s get Ben through this, and then get Beck checked out.” He tries to calm me down.

  “Yeah.” I manage to push the words past my lips. “Just… watch him. Please.”

  “We’re keeping a close eye on him. I promise.”

  “Th-Thank you.”

  “No thanks needed. I’m sorry we’re not there.”

  “No,” I say forcefully. “We need to know he’s being taken care of. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Call us if you have an update.”

  “Thanks again,” I say, ending the call. Turning, I rest my forehead against the concrete wall of the garage. Images of Ben hooked up to those machines, to his lifeless body as Kendall fought to breathe air into his lungs is on a constant reel in my mind. And I can’t make it stop. I just want it to stop. I know the guys are here, but they’re not saying a word, silently supporting me.

  “It’s not supposed to be like this,” I finally say. “He’s so fucking small, and he’s fighting for his life. Why?” I yell. Anger bubbles up inside me. “Fuck!” I shout and slam my hand into the wall. I welcome the pain. My baby boy is going through so much worse.

  “Careful,” Seth warns.

  “Fuck careful.” I turn on him. “We did everything right. Reags ate right, took her vitamins. How could this happen? What did we do? Why Ben?”

  “It’s fucked-up,” Seth agrees. “But you can’t go off the rails, brother. You have to stay strong for him.”

  “I know you didn’t expect this, but you have to fight,” Kent adds.

  “How? How do I do that? It’s out of my hands. I can’t fix it and make it better. I’m his dad, dammit. I’m supposed to protect him, and I can’t do that. I can’t fucking do it, and it kills me. Right here.” I slam my fist over my chest. “The ache is so deep it’s as if there’s a knife in my chest.”

  Mark steps up, tears glistening in his eyes. “I’m not good at this shit, man. Never have been. What I can tell you is to get this all out now. Because when you go through those doors, you need to stay strong. For your wife. For your son. Hell, even for you. He’s going to need your strength. Remember when Knox was born. The n
urses told us he could sense our fear and our confidence. You need to find that confidence and hold on to that shit. Hold it tight and don’t let go.”

  “I don’t know how.” Back to the wall, I slide to the floor. Resting my elbows on my knees, I bury my face in my hands. I focus on deep, even breaths, trying to stop the tears, but I can’t. They flow freely on their own accord. I cry for Ben, and for Beck. I cry for my wife, and I cry for me.

  “It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair,” Kent says softly.

  “We got you, Ty. Whatever you need. We’re here. That little guy is going to pull through this.”

  “You can’t find your confidence, you use ours,” Mark adds. “You will him to fight, and we’ll be there right beside you.”

  I let his words sink in, wipe my eyes, and stare up at them. Kent offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. “I know this fight is unexpected, but you fight to win.”

  I nod and pull him into a hug. I do the same with Seth and Mark. These guys have been with me since we were kids, through thick and thin. I’m so grateful to have them in our corner.

  “Now, let’s get you back to your wife and son. We’ll be here,” Seth assures me.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. I do my best to wipe my eyes as we make our way back inside. As we reach the cardiac floor, I see Reagan standing in the hall with Dawn. As soon as she spots me, she comes running full-on and jumps into my arms. I hold her close, breathing her in as she holds on tight.

  “Are you all right?” she asks, angling away. Her hands cradle my cheeks as she runs her thumbs under my eyes that I’m sure are red from tears.

  “Yeah, baby. I’m okay. We’re all going to be all right,” I tell her, willing it to be true.

  “He’s so tiny. He’s too small for this.”

  “He’s in good hands, Reags. We have to trust that. Not having the procedure is too risky.”

  “I know. I just… I needed you.”

  “I’m right here.” I bury my face in her neck. “He’s going to be fine,” I tell her. “He’s a fighter.” I look over her shoulder and catch the eyes of our friends. The guys nod while Dawn stands with tears rolling down her face. Mark pulls her into him, offering her comfort.