Insurmountable

by T. E. White

  38

  My sneakers padding against the tiled floor created squeaks that announced my arrival on the delivery floor of the hospital. Nurses turned, but most didn’t pay me any attention. Surely they were used to new frantic dads.

  My parents were huddled outside of a room with Jim, Red’s stepdad, not too far away. After a quick hug from Mom, I headed into the room, leaving Camille to trade air kisses with my mom, who looked a little too pleased to see her. If Camille had figured it out, she knew exactly who my parents were and I couldn’t worry about that.

  I stepped into the room of horrors as Red lay in a bed with two nurses on either side of her, her legs spread wide, bent at the knee. Red’s hair was drenched in sweat as her face was crumpled with concentration.

  Liz’s gaze made me turn to meet her eyes. Her disapproval was clear and was the spur that made me move forward. By the time I made it to the bed, Red was panting and turned an pleased expression my way. It was the first time in months that it felt like she wanted me there. She held out a hand, and the nurse on that side moved to make room. I took her hand.

  The young doctor said, “One more time, Reagan, just like the last.” I hadn’t noticed him until that point. Her hand gripped mine with more force than expected. She grunted in exertion while I grimaced as my fingers were crushed in her hand.

  She panted in between pushes, while I stood helpless. We hadn’t taken a birthing class together. While I had read up on the subject, being there felt too surreal. It was an hour, or so it seemed, before our child pushed into the world. The wrinkled bloody thing looked more like a horror movie prop than a baby.

  I’d already spied my child, so when the doctor pronounced, “You have a son,” I wasn’t surprised.

  Flashes went off and I was grateful. I hadn’t thought about preserving the moment. I was busy trying not to feel too close to Red in that moment.

  “We have a son,” she said, with a grin I had longed to see.

  Cracks in my armor began to widen as she continued to gaze at me in a way reminiscent of times long past.

  “Have you any thoughts about a name?” She appeared hopeful about my answer while I was reminded that this conversation should have happened months ago.

  “Chase,” I mumbled.

  Her fingers interlocked with mine. “Why Chase?”

  Because seeing my son had chased the bad away, leaving liquid love to color my heart the same color as his eyes. Small and innocent blues stared up at me as my hand was freed when my son was placed in his mother’s arms. But I only gave her a shrug in reply to her question.

  She and her mother cooed over him as I stared at them, thinking how different my life was. I was a father. There was a tiny being in the world that depended on me. I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t ever let him down like my own father had. My dreams had never really been important to anyone but me. However, it was my son’s dreams that I was determined to make come true, no matter the cost to myself.

  Her voice, rich like honey, drifted to me. “…Do you want to hold him? Your son, Chase Tade Astor.”

  I felt a wave of emotion familiar to me. Unconditional love had my eyes blurring with joy. I leaned down and let her place him in my arms. We were so close her lips brushed against mine and I had to contain myself from jerking back in response, because my fragile son was cradled in my arms.

  “Wait for a picture,” her mother called out. Our foreheads were connected as a flash went off. I stood straight and held Chase to my chest, whispering words of love, joy, and fear.

  “You should probably take him to the window so your parents and my dad can see.”

  The timbre of her voice changed. I glanced at her to see her nervously avoiding my eyes. I took a second longer, waiting for her to meet my eyes, but she didn’t. I walked to the window where the blinds had been opened to reveal our family. I angled my body as their faces came close the glass. There was delight in Mom and Jim’s eyes. Dad seemed to study the hands my son fisted and unfisted, in his way of exploring his new world. There are ten fingers, I wanted to say.

  Camille squealed, “Il est beau! He’s beautiful.”

  “Can I take him to do some measurements?” a voice asked.

  I turned and handed my son to the nurse. I walked over to see Red’s eyes flaming mad. “You brought a woman with you. And her? You brought her to the birth of our son?”

  Liz didn’t waste time heading out of the room. Nurses cleared the area, giving us time to speak. The door to the room opened just when Red decided to yell. “I’m your wife. And you brought another woman here.”

  I rubbed my brow, unsure what to do or say. I turned to the window to see if my family heard or caught Camille’s lethal expression. She stormed off and I shook my head at Red, confused why she would say those things. Of course, I’ve seen shows where women were portrayed as lunatics during child birth. Maybe there was some truth to that. I followed after Camille. Even though I didn’t want a relationship with her, she did deserve the truth.

  “Camille.” I reached her, halting her by taking her arm.

  She spun to stare at me with the wild eyes of a rabid dog. If she’d been foaming at the mouth I wouldn’t have been surprised. “Are you really married?”

  My hand fell away from her arm. It had become obvious what my answer was when I took too long to speak. The crack of her hand across my face was sure to leave a permanent hand print on my face.

  She didn’t waste time before stalking away. The fate of my wardrobe was left in her hands. There could possibly be a shopping trip in my future, I thought. “You can take the plane back to Cambridge,” I said absently in her wake. She didn’t turn around, so I guessed my sentiment wasn’t welcome.

  Anger built inside of me. It wasn’t like I would miss Camille or our time under the sheets. She could be replaced. No, I was pissed about Red jerking me around. I turned to find all eyes on me. I rolled my shoulders back and stepped in front of my father.

  “Dad, do you have the papers?” There wasn’t need for more explanation. I held out my hand expectantly as he dug inside his suit jacket, ever the politician. The envelope felt heavy in my hand even though it weighed nothing. He placed his favorite Mont Blanc in my other hand. I turned, not having any more words for the man I’d looked up to my entire life.

  Silence followed me in the room as everyone waited to see what I would do next. There was a table that appeared as though it were made to slide over the bed for the person in it to use. I unfolded the paper with shaking hands. I didn’t even read it. Hopefully she had. It hurt to sign my name, but I did. If there was another poignant moment it was then. I loved her enough to let her go.

  My hurt was masked with anger as I spun, and her eyes wide and fearful. “There, you’ve asked, and I’ve signed it. We’re no longer married.” I tossed the paper at her and left the room. The nurses had left with our son for normal tests they did on newborns.

  Once Red was moved to a room upstairs in the maternity ward I found myself in an empty room, thanks to my mother’s negotiations with the hospital. I was going to be wherever my son was, including surviving in a guest room at Red’s parents’ house. Liz didn’t even try barring me from camping out at their house. And as far as I could tell the room I used was far away from Red’s as we hadn’t crossed paths. I spent sleepless nights tending to my son’s needs. The agreement was that I would do whatever Red couldn’t, so she could rest. I couldn’t feed him because he had the pleasure of her breast, the lucky bastard.

  I changed his diapers and rocked him to sleep when he was fussy. I talked to him and told him my dreams. He was small and couldn’t talk back. I told him what I hoped his life would be like, and watched as the smiles Liz told me were nothing but gas crossed his tiny face.

  The final night before I had to return to Cambridge, I was given a bottle of milk Red pumped, just so I would have the pleasure of feeding my son. It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. He tried nuzzling his head towards my chest. It took intervention f
rom Liz, dropping some milk on his tongue, before he finally took the bottle. I couldn’t express words about the feeling of taking care of such a basic need for him.

  When the bag of clothes I’d hastily prepared before heading to the hospital were taken by my father’s driver, I snuck over to Red’s room to get one last peek at Chase. Red was sleep. Her mouth opened with silent snores. She was so exhausted, she didn’t notice my entrance. Chase was laying stomach down on her chest. Her breast was exposed, so they may have been feeding before they both fell asleep.

  I covered her breast before I snapped a few shots with my phone. Neither woke and I gently took Chase and laid him in the cradle next to her bed. I snapped a few more shots of my son, even sneaking one of Red before I left with ideas about my future.

  39

  The apartment appeared unharmed when I entered. My clothes remained in my closet unscathed. It was a test of my people skills that I’d judged Camille and Red wrong. Camille’s room was empty, which was not unexpected. She had the means to find other accommodations. She wasn’t living with me out of need, nor did I have a roommate because I had to have one. It had simply been convenient for both of us.

  What turned out to be unforeseen was Gavin’s visit several weeks later. “What’s up, my brother?”

  I shook his hand and drew him close with an arm between us to pat his back hard for being so aloof these past few months. Quickly, we stepped apart. That mushy shit was for girls.

  “Saw the pic of your son. You’re a father. What the fuck is happening in the world?” he stated, walking into my place, looking around.

  “I’m not sure, man. He’s so perfect, I don’t deserve him.”

  “Where’s Reagan?”

  I slumped into a seat. “Back home with her parents. Where’s Penelope?” I had to turn the question back on him. The blonde hadn’t shown up at the hospital or Red’s house for all I knew.

  “Don’t turn this shit on me. Lost the girl?”

  I may have been facing him, but my head was in the clouds. “Yeah. I signed the papers. I’m a free man.” I stared at my hand. My naked finger still felt weird. I hadn’t worn my wedding ring since Red sent me away when I headed to Cambridge. It had always felt odd.

  “We should go out and celebrate.”

  Celebrate what, I thought.

  Gavin reading my mind said, “We should make a toast to your son. May he have better luck with women than we did.”

  “I could drink to that.”

  We ended up at Atwood’s Tavern. A local band was playing and the atmosphere was lively. It felt like old times, even in a new place. With beers in our hands, we played Miami Ten. Having gone to Miami one spring break, Gavin and I decided that women there were on a whole different scale than women anywhere else. If a woman lived outside of Miami and we agreed she was a ten, one of us was forced to talk to her.

  As the girls strolled by we rated them one by one, as they checked us out. A few were bold enough to stop and chat, slipping us numbers written on the backs of napkins.

  A honey blonde with legs like a dancer twisted her hair over one shoulder and offered to buy me a drink. I smirked. Gavin spied it, having sent the girl that was talking to him on her way. “It’s back,” he said, pointing at my smile.

  “Just ignore him,” I said to her as she looked between the two of us. I knew what he was talking about because I felt better than I had in a while, outside of the good feelings my son gave me.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it halfway out, I spotted Red’s name on the screen. I brought it to my face to answer just as the woman in front of me asked, “So do you want to get out of here?”

  Gavin said, “Oh, he wants to get out of here. I do too. Do you have a friend?”

  “Reagan,” I said into the phone.

  There was a long pause but the band was heating up. I couldn’t tell if I missed something when she said, “You called me Reagan.”

  I hadn’t meant to be a jackass, but it came out in an abrupt fashion. “That’s your name isn’t it? Or should I call you Caroline? Or maybe Ms. Abby is better.”

  “Can’t we be civil?”

  “This is me being civil, Reagan. Is there something you wanted? Or more importantly, this must be about Chase, because according to you we have nothing to talk about.”

  “Tade?” There was a plea in her voice, but I couldn’t go there. She’d already ripped my heart out of my chest. What more did she want to take from me?

  “I’m kind of busy right now. Is Chase okay?”

  “Chase is fine. He’s great, actually.”

  “Good. And thanks for the pictures.” Belatedly, I had remembered that Liz sent pictures every few days. That was one thing that calmed my anger towards the woman.

  “Look, it’s kind of hard to hear you with the band playing. Can this wait?” I had one ear covered and I had my head angled away from the noise.

  “Sure. Later then.”

  She hung up and I frowned at the phone. The honey blonde was paying attention to my every word. She asked, “Who’s Chase?”

  Gavin, quick on the draw, said, “A soon-to-be good friend of mine. Now about your friend.”

  We ended up back at my place with her and a couple more of her friends. We played quarters and poker, but I ended up alone in my room. The call from Red had stirred my emotions up, and I missed her so Goddamn much.

  The phone twirled in my hand as I considered whether or not to call. It was weird that she’d chosen to call me now, after all this time. Finally, I manned up and hit send. The phone rang and rang until her voicemail picked up. I ended the call without a message.

  It was several days later after Gavin had left and during class my phone buzzed. Liz was calling. I’d finally programed her number in because I had more contact with her than Red. I hit ignore only for the phone to ring again. I left the lecture hall, then answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Tade. I couldn’t get in touch with your mother,” she said agitatedly.

  In other words, she would have chosen to speak to Mom instead of me.

  “What’s going on? How’s my son?”

  “It’s Reagan, Tade. You have to come.” She was borderline hysterical. My heart started to pound with worry.

  Before I could ask her any questions, a man’s voice came on the line. “Tade, this is Jim, Reagan’s Dad. Reagan… she took a bunch of pills. You should come. The doctors…” He choked up. “The doctor’s aren’t sure how long.”

  I sucked in a breath, my heart stopped beating. My eyes filled with unshed tears. I’d been lying to myself when I thought I was over her. I wasn’t.

  After I got off the phone, I tried Mom. Liz was right. She wasn’t answering. It was likely she was at an event. Mom tended to turn her phone off during those things. When I berated her about it years ago, she reminded me there was a time when cell phones didn’t exist.

  I called my father, because he on the other hand always had his cell glued to his hand. When he answered, I explained. There was a plane waiting for me on the tarmac when I arrived. Without pause, it left and I was airborne, with only my thoughts to keep me company.

  40

  Although I’d been to that hospital for the birth of Chase, ICU was in a wholly different area. My steps thundered through the halls, as I used offensive tactics to spin around slow-walking patients and avoided nurses pushing wheelchairs and gurneys.

  I shouted into the intercom, requesting entrance into the locked ward. The doors parted and I moved fast, checking each room until I turned a corner and caught sight of Dad in a doorway. I raced towards him while a nurse yelled, “Sir, can I help you?” from behind me.

  Dad moved out of my way, having heard me coming, or the nurse shouting at me. I stepped into the room and came up short. Red lay in a bed, covered from foot to neck in a white blanket. Her pale face was barely visible under all the tubes and wires sprouting from unknown locations on her body.

  Liz held her daughter’s l
imp hand, with a tissue pressed to her face. Soft cries mewed from her lips as Jim held her shoulders from the side. Mom came up from the side and pressed her hand in mine.

  The nurse showed up and said, “Are you the husband?”

  My head snapped up to meet Liz’s eyes. She gave me a slight nod.

  “Yes, yes I am.” Red hadn’t turned in the papers. All this time, she wanted us to be together? “And I need everyone out.”

  Her mom looked aghast.

  “You all have been here for hours. I need ten minutes alone with my wife.”

  Jim tugged at Liz, directing her outside in the hall where my parents had obediently gone at my first request. When I was alone with the nurse, I said, “What happened?”

  I needed an impartial view of the events. “You should wait for the doctor,” she said wearily.

  “Please,” I begged. “Just tell me what you know. I’m not asking for a prognosis.”

  I held her stare, pleading for her to give me something.

  A heavy sigh escaped her before she spoke after darting a glance over my shoulder. “She was brought in showing no vital signs. She was resuscitated but she wasn’t breathing on her own. Her stomach was pumped because she was found with several bottles of pills around her.”

  “What were the pills?”

  “Um, Oxycontin, sleeping pills, over the counter ibuprofen, and heart medication,” she said, recounting by memory. I vaguely wondered who the prescription pills had belonged to before asking, “How is she doing?

  “That I can’t answer.” With a sympathetic smile, she patted my arm. “We’re doing our best to keep her comfortable. Let me go page the doctor.”

  I walked around the other side of the bed and took up residence in a chair nearby. I clasped the chilled hand Red’s mother had been holding, and let loose tears that had been pent up for months. This was all my fault. She’d called and I’d blown her off. In my hurt feelings I had overlooked that we were alone in this. We had no one to talk to about our crazy circumstances but ourselves. It didn’t matter she’d all but blown me off for months. She needed me and I’d failed her.