Pieces of Him

by Alice Tribue

  Dinner’s already been delivered by the time I come out of the bathroom. I scarf down as much as I can even though I’m not hungry. As I’m finishing, the hospital administrator comes down to give me her condolences and put me in contact with one of the local funeral homes and Keri’s insurance company in order to figure out what, if any, expenses would be covered. I take the information she gives me and the reality that Keri had no one sinks in. It’s just her stupid roommates and me. She made me her family. I’m listed as her next of kin, and I didn’t even know it. I was it for her, just Xander and me. I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with her death. When her roommates, Jessica and Dana, come back, I break the news and watch them as they each break down, trying my hardest to console them when it’s the last thing I want to do. I have so much of my own shit to process. They leave me with their phone numbers, and I promise to call once I make the funeral arrangements. I’m glad when they get gone, probably the first thing I’ve been glad about since I set foot in this fucking hospital.

  I sit in the armchair staring at the television, but not seeing it until Nurse Marie wheels Xander into the room.

  “He’s hungry. I thought you could give feeding him another go.”

  “I’m kind of tired. This day is catching up with me. Would you mind doing it?”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” she says reassuringly. She’s relentless; I’ll give her that. She refuses to give me any room for escape. It’s as if she can read my mind and has single-handedly made it her mission to make sure I stay right where I am.

  “Why don’t you pick him up now?” she asks, after showing me how to prepare the bottle. The question comes out more like a demand, and like a little bitch, I get up and go to the crib. “Always support the head. Just scoop your hand right under his head and neck, and then use the other one to pick him up.”

  I try to come off as cool and collected, but this shit feels unnatural to me. I’m afraid I’m going to drop him or break him or something, but I do what she says, pull him to my chest, and sit down with him. I carefully adjust him so he’s resting in the crook of my arm and grab his bottle. He latches on just like earlier. Once she suspects I’m doing okay, Nurse Marie leaves me to it and goes off to do whatever it is she does. I remember what she said and stop to burp him halfway through then somehow manage to resume feeding him. I watch Xander, trying to find the similarities between us—features that resemble mine—maybe because I’m trying to find that connection that makes him belong to me. I’m searching for something to hold onto and remember when he’s gone. What I see are pieces of Keri and pieces of me, wrapped up in something bigger than both of us are. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight sense of pride in that, maybe even a little bit of love for him, but that love is motivating me to say good-bye. He messes his diaper almost immediately after he finishes his bottle, and I use the call button to call the nurse back in here. She shows me how to wipe him down, how to position the diaper under him, and how to change it as quickly as possible to avoid accidents. Even I’m surprised at the simplicity of it. Xander’s asleep by the time I finish and the nurse takes him back into the nursery for the night after telling me that I need sleep. I could not agree more; I tell myself I’ll just catch a quick nap and then I’ll go home and figure shit out. I lie down in the bed that Keri should have occupied and close my eyes. I try to clear my head, but I keep thinking. I don’t think there’s any way I’ll be able to sleep after all that’s happened today. It takes a long time, but I’m grateful when I finally fall off into a dream-filled sleep.

  Max~

  “He’s beautiful,” she says with her beaming smile aimed at me. She looks happy, almost ethereal, and I want to touch her, run my hand through her hair the way I used to do sometimes when I’d get carried away while we were lounging on my bed.

  “He is, Keri. You did good, babe.”

  “I tried. I tried to stay with you, with Xander, but I couldn’t.”

  “I know you did.”

  “You’ll be a great dad.”

  “No, Keri, I can’t do this. You have to understand.”

  “Keep him safe, keep him with you, you’ll need each other. You'll need him.”

  “I don’t think ...”

  “It’s up to you to tell him about me. He’ll never know me if you don’t tell him. He’ll never know how much I love him. He needs to know that you love him too. Take care of our boy.

  “Keri ...”

  “Take care of our boy, Max.”

  I wake startled and freaked the fuck out by my dream. A dream that felt a little too fucking real to me. A dream that makes me question what I’d already decided was a done deal. What if that shit was a sign that Xander is supposed to stay with me? Jesus Christ, I’m screwed in the fucking head, listening to dreams and trying to find the meaning in them. I run my hand through my hair in frustration and sit up in the small ass hospital bed. First order of business is to call my boss, Jack, and tell him I won’t be in to work today. Then I’ll need to start the ball rolling on figuring out a permanent home for Xander. After that, I’ll contact the funeral home for Keri. None of these things are things I want to fucking do. I snatch my phone off the bedside table and call Jack, who, regardless of being my boss, is more of a father to me than my own father was.

  “Hello?” He answers on the second ring.

  “Jack.”

  “Hey, son, been waiting to hear from you. How’d everything go?”

  “Got a son.”

  “Great news,” he booms, genuine happiness in his voice. “How’s your girl doing?”

  My girl. Fuck. Even Jack had hopes of me getting my head out of my ass and giving Keri a shot. I let out a jagged sigh and run a hand through my hair.

  “She’s gone, complications during her delivery. She didn’t make it, man.”

  This is met with a long silence and a sharp intake of breath.

  “Shit, Max. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Nothing to say,” I respond, thinking that this whole situation is so fucked that there really is nothing anyone could say. Nothing anyone could say or do would make this any better.

  “You still at the hospital? I can be there in fifteen, twenty minutes tops,” he offers, and I knew that was exactly what he would do; it’s just the type of guy he is. He took me on even after finding out I had a record and was on probation. That was over seven years ago, and if it wasn’t for him, I have no doubt I would have eventually ended up in jail. If I had to see anybody right now, it would be him, but I’d honestly rather be alone. Maybe it’s because I’m sad, in shock, and overwhelmed, but it’s mostly because I feel guilty and ashamed for what I’m about to ask him.

  “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “No, I just,” I press my forehead into the palm of my hand, “I need you to talk me through this right now because I really want to bolt.”

  “You have a son, Max,” he says, telling me something I already know. But knowing that just makes it worse, and if I’m being honest, it scares the fuck out of me. Any man who tells you that he feels great about the prospect of being a single dad is a fucking liar. No one wants this shit, but especially an asshole like me who didn’t want the title of dad to begin with.

  “I want to bolt.”

  “He’s your son.”

  I throw the sheets back and get out of bed to walk over to the windows. “I didn’t ask for this. You have to understand this shit was not planned and I went along with it because I knew Keri wanted it. I knew she’d take care of him but now …”

  “He’s your son. Keri or no Keri, he’s your son.”

  “You keep saying that shit. I know that already.”

  “But do you understand it?”

  I shake my head in frustration. “I was thinking I could talk to that lawyer you know.”

  “What for?”

  “He needs a better home than what I can give him. He needs
a real family. I got nothing to give him.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Excuse me?” I say beginning to get angry.

  “This isn’t about what you can or can’t give that boy. This is you trying to wash your hands of a situation you didn’t want. You don’t want to be bothered with the responsibility.”

  “I don’t know shit about raising a baby, Jack.”

  “So learn.”

  “Right, because it’s just that easy,” I reply sarcastically.

  “You think Keri knew? You think she was going to give birth to that baby and just know how to take care of him? It takes work, man. You learn as you go and you listen to what other people have to say.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know, bud. Me, for one. Got two kids of my own, so I know a little something. I know it’s hard. I know it’s hard work. It’s sleepless nights. It’s like trying to put together pieces of a puzzle, but I’ll tell you this. You will hate yourself for not trying.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I know you, and I’ve come to know you. Not many people I would trust with my business the way I trust you. Been watching you a long time and I know you will regret turning your back on that boy. You want a lawyer? I’ll call Fred. I’ll get him to help you, do things right, but I promise you it will be your biggest regret in life.”

  “I got work. I have no one to watch him.”

  “I’ll give you some time off. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll tell you what. Spend a few days with him. We’ll get him set up. Whatever you need, we’ll take care of it. We’ll make sure you get what you need. If you still feel the same in a few days, I’ll put you in contact with Fred. All right?”

  I sigh, feeling completely defeated and resigned to the fact I won’t be getting out of what’s about to happen. I can do this for a few days, at least. People do this every day. Shit, my loser father kept me alive after my mom left us. He was an asshole, but he kept me alive. Even I can do better than he did. “All right.”

  “Good, man. I’ll talk to Rachel. We’ll put together a list of what a new baby needs, I’ll call you back, you tell me what you don’t have, and I’ll get what you need.”

  “Babies are a lot of money, man. The things they need are a lot of money. I have a car seat because Keri made me install it, but that’s about all I have.”

  “I figure I owe you some type of baby welcoming gift. We’ll figure out payment for the rest later.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry about Keri. Sorry for you both but you’ll be fine. You're the smartest guy I know.”

  “I think you been watching the wrong guy all these years.”

  “Nah. Been watching you. You’ll be good.”

  “Right.”

  “Later,” he says before disconnecting the call. I let out an amused chuckle because I made that call to make myself feel better, but it only made me feel worse. I’ve never been so overwhelmed; I’ve never felt so helpless and lost, and there’s no end in sight. This is the status quo for the foreseeable future, so I’m just going to have to suck it up. After giving myself a mental pep talk, I called the coffee shop where Keri worked, but they already knew what had happened, likely informed by one of her roommates. The owner expressed his condolences, told me how much he liked Keri, what a good employee she was, and that she would be missed. He told me all of these things as if he was talking to her father or her husband—someone she shared her life with on a more permanent basis. He was able to give me the information and phone number for her life insurance policy and offered to pay whatever the balance was on her service. I felt my whole body begin to relax, could literally feel some of the tension oozing out of me after he made the offer because now, I had once less thing to worry about. My finances are better now but paying for Keri’s funeral would have probably left me in a bad place, not that I wouldn’t have done it. I would have for her. I make arrangements with the director of the funeral home, and once I’m finished, I’m ready to get on with this day.

  I walk out to the nurses’ station thinking that it would be a good idea to check on Xander. I don’t want people thinking I’m some deadbeat dad within the first twenty-four hours of his birth.

  “Is Marie here?” I ask the young blonde sitting behind the desk.

  “Mr. Castillo?” she asks and I nod. “I’m Amber. Marie isn’t back on until tonight. She told me about you, though. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I ordered you a breakfast tray. It should be up any minute.”

  “Thank you again. Can I see Xander?”

  “The pediatrician is in with him now. She’ll bring him to you when she’s done.”

  “Pediatrician? Who is his pediatrician?”

  “Umm, Dr. Haas.”

  “Who picked her?” I question feeling completely stupid and out of the loop. Then again, this is what I wanted, right? Minimal involvement in the upbringing of my kid. I wanted to sit back and let Keri make all the decisions while I lived my life and gave them the least amount of support required of me.

  “She’s who’s listed on Xander’s chart. If it wasn’t you, it must have been your girlfriend.”

  “Right. Okay. I guess I’ll just wait for her then,” I say retreating to the room. I wouldn’t have even thought about calling a pediatrician. Holy shit, I suck at this parenting thing. What kind of parent doesn’t know his own kid’s pediatrician? I have no time to contemplate this because, at that exact moment, the pediatrician is wheeling Xander into the room.

  “Hello.” Her cheery greeting is a bit much for me right now; it’s barely eight in the morning and my day is already shot. I don’t need chipper to top it off. “I’m Dr. Haas.”

  “Hi, I’m Max,” I reply, giving her my first name because if someone else calls me Mr. Castillo, I might lose it.

  She smiles again and comes to stand in front of me. She keeps her distance, though, careful not to invade my personal space.

  “Xander had a good night. He fed regularly, his bowels are good, his heart and lungs are perfect, and he’s passed his hearing test. He’ll be fine to go home with you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I question, sounding more panicked than I want to, but shit. Tomorrow is soon. I thought I’d get to hang out here a little bit more, have time to get comfortable with him, and get some more baby survival lessons from Nurse Marie.

  “Yes, he’s doing great, and he’ll be okay to go home. He’ll have his first immunization today, we’ll get him in for circumcision, and then you can make an appointment to bring him to my office in two weeks.”

  “Wait a minute. I’m sorry, circumcision?”

  “Yes.”

  She pulls up the empty chair across from me and takes a seat leaning into me, and for the first time since she walked in here, she looks a lot less than cheery. She looks almost empathetic, almost somber.

  “I’m sorry, Max. His mother requested the circumcision, and I just assumed it was something you two had discussed. Oftentimes in childbirth, medical professionals take what mom says as the final word in the baby’s care because they usually fill out the paperwork.”

  I shake my head at her assumption, and I know I should go with what Keri wanted here, but it seems like it may not be medically necessary and very painful for a tiny baby. I may not ever be father of the year, but I don’t want to cause the kid any more pain than necessary.

  “I’m not sure I want him to go through that.”

  “I understand. I’ll give you the facts and then you can decide, but I promise you the benefits outweigh the risk. We numb the area and the pain is minimal.” She goes on giving me all the scientific reasons why it’s better for him in the long run, and even I have to admit it makes sense. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about, and after promising me more times than I can count that the pain and recovery are minimal, I sign off on it. She leaves me alone with Xander, and I pick him
up with a lot less hesitation today than I did yesterday. I lie down on the bed with him, holding him close and watching as he sleeps when it hits me that I just made my first real decision as a parent. Then I think that maybe I’m not such a fuck-up after all. Maybe I can do this.

  Emelia~

  “We expect you home for your father’s company picnic, Emelia.”

  “Yes, Mother, I know,” I reply, rolling my eyes only because I know she can’t see me. “You’ve already made that perfectly clear.”

  “We just don’t understand why you have to move to another state to work. You couldn’t be a social worker here in Connecticut?”

  The answer to that is yes. I could have been a social worker in Connecticut, but that would mean being close to my mother, which is exactly what I was trying to get away from.

  “I found a position here doing exactly what I want to do.”

  “There are needy people in Greenwich,” she says snobbishly.

  Jesus, my mother is the most oblivious person I know.

  “Mother, I’m sorry, but I have to go. The movers have just arrived.” It’s a lie; they arrived an hour ago, but I’ll say anything to get off the phone with her and get on with my day. I’ve been in my new apartment for one day, and she’s already calling and making demands of me.

  “Call me tomorrow. Let me know how you’re getting on.”

  “I will.”

  Even on the telephone, my mother winds me up tight. I can feel myself begin to uncoil the minute I hang up. The thing about my mom is that she’s loaded, always has been, and barring some unforeseen catastrophic event, she always will be. She is your stereotypical rich girl—head in the clouds, self-centered, and completely out of touch with reality. Sadly, that is exactly how she raised my older sister, Hannah, and me. We were taught to be just like her, her clones, and for most of my life, I played the part to perfection. Hannah, not so much. She escaped the first chance she could and is now living in London and working full time as a buyer in an exclusive art gallery. My saving grace was my father, well—is my father. He didn’t come from a shitload of money; he made it the old-fashioned way with a lot of hard work, sweat, and tears. He’s always understood the value of a dollar, but more importantly, he understands the value of family. My dad taught me about love, family, and compassion. Lessons I never quite understood until I went away to school and got into social work.