by J. D. Netto
“Hey, Pollyanna,” she said as I tied the pink balloon to the foot of the bed. “You have a brand-new niece to spoil. Plenty of gifts are expected.”
“And this balloon is her first,” I said.
She smirked. “Not a great start.”
“Is that what you’re naming her?” I smiled. “Pollyanna as a tribute to her amazing uncle Paul?”
Jonahs guffawed.
“Her name is Zoe,” Hannah said. “Zoe Cardall.”
She looked like Jonahs, her lips and eyes the same shape as his. “I do love the both of you, but I came here to revel in the masterpiece you’ve created.”
“You want to hold her?” Hannah asked.
Jonahs pressed his lips together. “You think he has the experience?”
“I’m ready to school you on how to be a dad.” I bent down and gently picked her up. She remained still, sleeping. “Hey, Zoe. I love you very much, but you’re the reason most of the family will no longer remember my birthday since you were born a day before it.”
“Consider yourself lucky.” Jonahs put a hand on my shoulder. “I’d give anything for people to forget mine.”
We chatted for a half hour or so before nurses came in and took Zoe back to the nursery and Hannah was on the verge of sleep. Hugs went all around as I headed out. I was happy and proud of my brother, but with Jonahs, there was always something. His eyes reflected whatever struggle was going on inside. Was there more to the reason why they had postponed their move?
Jonahs was eager to escape the Cardall compound when he hit his teenage years. He’d randomly disappear with his friends, only to come home days later from some grand adventure. My parents would have a fit every time it happened. Maybe he was trying to fill a void or struggling to run from one.
Ever since the episode in 2005, I’d catch myself thinking about the many things I could say to him.
Neil rushed my way when I walked inside the house. His big smile pushed all my thoughts away. He had on a blue T-Rex shirt and a yellow sticky note stuck to his front. Olivia leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a smile on display.
“Hey, buddy!” I picked him up and gave him a hug. “What’s this?” I plucked the note from his chest, reading it aloud, “I’m going to be a big brother.” The world stopped as I processed what I had read. “Wait, what? You’re…”
“We’re having a baby!” Olivia said, crying as she made her way over to me.
Sawyer wanted to break free from his bony cage. “We’re having…we’re—”
I set Neil back down. He darted around the house, yelling, “Brotha! Brotha! I be big brotha!”
“Our family is growing.” Olivia laid her head on my shoulder. “The doctor said I’m thirteen weeks in.”
“You’ve seen one already?”
“Consider this payback, mister.” She smiled.
“This will happen for us,” I said.
Nothing to Worry About
JUNE 2007
I woke up before the sun and retreated to my home office to read some emails—most of them from fans sharing intimate stories of how my music helped them. They ranged from people who were inspired to pursue their passions to those who were on the verge of taking their own lives, only to have a song of mine help them believe in the future again.
More than ever before, new listeners were discovering my music. Pandora Radio featured all my albums and suggested them to millions every day. I tried my best to reply to as many as I could.
The last email was confirmation the day was off to a great start. It was a report from the marketing agency overseeing my campaigns. All my projects, including the latest, Songs of Praise, were getting incredible radio play, especially the song “Redeemer.” There was a graph attached, depicting a noticeable rise in listeners after they executed all their marketing ideas.
Sawyer had managed to remain stable after news of his failure last year. I put on some weight, the swelling went down, and all tests assured me Sawyer still had plenty of time to live on.
But it was a rare occasion; Olivia was home on a Saturday. Our day was going to consist of television, plenty of carbs, and popcorn.
I went downstairs to work on new music. I had to get a jump start on a new album—especially after the reports I received. The melodies started as a whisper since I didn’t want to wake anyone up, but my excitement got the best of me, and the entire house was awake before eight.
We all had German pancakes and Cocoa Puffs for breakfast. Neil turned his meal into a face cream, smearing the syrup around his lips then licking his fingers.
“Babies coming?” Neil asked in a sweet voice.
“Very soon,” I told him. “They aren’t ready to leave Mommy’s belly yet.”
“When?” he insisted, picking up a soggy cereal from his bowl and eating it.
“You’ll know when it’s time, champ,” Olivia replied.
We gathered in the living room with a bowl of popcorn, ready to spend the day watching Scooby-Doo. We had even picked out special pajamas for the occasion. Neil’s were white with lion cubs scattered over it. Olivia’s purple and covered in flowers. Mine were blue, stamped with horses. Neil then proceeded to use most of the couch cushions to build himself a tower.
“Neil, are you planning on staying in your tower the whole day?” Olivia asked, fixing her hair behind her ears.
“Yes,” Neil replied from his cushioned fortress. “This my house, Mommy.”
Olivia and I chuckled. She looked radiant, her small bump in view. I always thought she looked even more beautiful when pregnant. An irony considering our past experiences.
None of us had even dared to brush our hair. This was our official lazy day. Neil’s efforts to keep his tower stable were way more entertaining than whatever was on TV.
The day went on. The only time we left the couch was to fix a few ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Neil, however, stayed in his tower, wrapped in a blue blanket, surrounded by dinosaurs and cars.
“We should watch something different,” I mentioned. “My head hurts from watching this dog.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Olivia smiled, but a sudden look of concern invaded her face. She tossed the bowl of popcorn on my lap. Her complexion paled as her eyes bulged like basketballs. She jumped up from the couch with a gasp.
“Everything okay?” I asked, Sawyer thumping.
“Yes, just need to use the bathroom. Be back soon.” There was an edge to her voice as she rushed upstairs.
For the next couple of minutes, Neil kept climbing on the edge of the couch and jumping on the pillow tower, giggling and begging me to watch his every move.
The sound of rushed footsteps coming from the stairs stole my breath. I jumped up, alarmed, the popcorn spilling on the floor.
“Olivia?”
“Paul.” She paraded into the living room with tears. “I’m bleeding.”
We were still in our pajamas when we rushed out of the house and jumped in the car. I called Mom and explained the situation. She didn’t say much, but judging by her uneven breaths, thousands of words and thoughts came to mind. I asked her to meet us at the hospital so she could take Neil for the day. Every second felt rushed, yet lasted an eternity. My eyes swerved between the road, Olivia, and Neil, who was in his car seat with a Triceratops in hand.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel. Not again. Not now. Olivia’s face was pale, lips colorless. A blue towel was wrapped around her waist to conceal the blood stain. Her hands were pressed over her stomach as tears escaped her eyes.
“Mommy, don’t cry,” Neil said.
“Oh, sweetie,” Olivia said in a broken voice. “Mommy has to cry now, but she’ll be okay soon.”
I turned into the hospital parking lot. Mom stood by the double doors. She waved once she spotted us. I left the car by the curb
with the flashers on.
“Unlock the back,” my mother yelled, her hand already on the door handle.
“Grandma!” Neil said, releasing the dinosaur in his grasp and extending his arms toward her. She unbuckled Neil from the car seat and held him. Neil’s immediate reaction was to lay his head on my mom’s shoulder.
“Call me the moment you hear anything,” she demanded.
“Promise.”
Olivia and I rushed to the front desk. The receptionist on the other side stood to her feet. She had freckles across her cheeks, eyes as green as the first leaves of spring. A brooch shaped like the face of a cat was pinned to her white coat along with a name tag that read Rebecca.
I explained Olivia’s symptoms, hopeful we were going to be seen at once. But we were asked to take a seat. I insisted we see a doctor right away, but her request was the same.
I watched the clock on the wall, every second an age. The door beside the front desk burst open. A woman approached, thick-framed glasses on her face.
“Olivia Cardall,” she called out.
I grabbed Olivia’s hand and helped her stand. The towel around her waist drooped, but she managed to catch it before it revealed the scarlet nightmare.
The woman attempted to keep a cheery face, but her efforts failed.
“I’m Nurse Ana,” she said. “Please come with me.”
We followed her into a room with white walls. To my right was a bed and beside it an ultrasound machine.
“Take a seat on the bed,” she demanded as she sat on the rolling chair. “Unbutton your shirt and lie down.”
Olivia handed me the blood-soaked towel and her shirt.
Ana smeared Olivia’s belly with gel and ran the transducer over her stomach. I struggled to breathe. Every single one of the nurse’s movements sent Sawyer on a spree.
I observed Ana’s facial expressions as if watching a horror movie. Was she going to frown? Maybe she’d sigh in relief after realizing my twins were alive.
Ana’s gaze shifted from Olivia back to the screen while sliding the transducer. She repeated the action a few times, until placing the magic wand back in its hook.
She rolled her seat a few inches away from Olivia and smiled.
“Your babies are fine,” she declared. “The boy and the girl are alive and well.”
Olivia and I glanced at each other, laughter bursting out of the both of us.
“What about their hearts?” I asked. “Everything okay there?”
“Both are beating just fine.”
I squeezed Olivia’s hand. She returned the gesture.
Ana’s words steadied Sawyer. Olivia’s smile remained intact.
We were told to head home and take it easy until an update on the cause of the bleeding.
The phone rang at exactly ten a.m. the next day while I was at the piano working on the new album. The results confirmed a large blood clot in the uterus. Olivia was to stay in absolute bedrest until her follow-up appointment the next week.
I picked up Neil and headed upstairs to share the results with Olivia.
“This is terrifying,” she whispered, sitting up in bed. “I see things like this at the hospital all the time. I’m just waiting for another miscarriage to happen—”
“It won’t,” I said, sitting beside her, Neil in my arms. “I promise it won’t.”
Neil crawled out of my lap, reclining his head against Olivia. “Even you can’t promise me that, Paul,” she said, her arm around Neil. “This isn’t how I pictured my life.” Emptiness engulfed her eyes. “Why is it so hard?”
“We have good news, Olivia.” I held her hand between my own. “You just need to rest. The twins are fine.”
“Mind calling my dad for me? I don’t want to deal with telling him.”
“Of course,” I whispered.
I dialed the number with trembling fingers.
Her father was usually a gentle man, patient and kind. He was always joyful when spending time with Neil and Olivia, but I knew he looked at me as the reason his daughter suffered so much. He wasn’t wrong.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he answered after a few rings, his voice unwavering. “How are you?”
“Mr. Allen, it’s actually Paul,” I said, chest tight.
“Well, hey Paul.” His voice took on a tone of concern. “Is everything okay?”
I broke the news, feeling like Sawyer was being pressed down by a bulldozer the whole time. There I was again telling him of Olivia’s suffering.
He was mostly quiet during the call, reacting to most of my words with long sighs.
“Need me to drive out to be with her?” he asked in a monotone voice.
“No, we should be okay. I’ll let you know once we have more news.”
“Paul, just…” A brief pause. “Just don’t die on my daughter.”
He hung up before I had the chance to respond.
I gazed at the phone, prepared to call him back, but then I thought of Neil. How would I feel if he were to choose a partner in my frail condition? Maybe I’d share the same thoughts he did. Those same concerns would be the ghosts I’d see every night.
“Don’t die on my daughter,” I repeated.
It was an unusual week. Mom and my older sister, Kirsten, came over to help take care of Neil. They took turns babysitting while I ran errands, attended business meetings, and tried to work on new music for my next album. Olivia stayed in bed most of the time, eager to return to her routine by week’s end.
To our family’s relief, the follow up appointment brought positive results. The blood clot had dissolved; Olivia could resume her normal routine.
But just when we thought we had reached the end of this journey, Olivia passed a huge blood clot a week later.
The ultrasound confirmed our worst nightmare. The heart rate of our girl remained strong, but our boy’s was slowing down. The doctor told us there wasn’t much to do but wait. We were scheduled to return for another ultrasound in two days. Before we left the hospital, he made it clear that both babies might be dead the next time we came back.
The drive to the ultrasound appointment was a quiet one. Olivia stroked her belly while humming the melody of “Our Love.” Her hazel eyes were set on the luscious summer landscape. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. Mount Olympus dominated in the distance.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said. “We have to stay positive.”
“You keep saying that.” She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. “I want to believe it, but no, Paul, it’ll never be alright.”
“I’m telling you it will,” I insisted.
“Every time we take a step forward, we go back four. It’s one thing after another. Our lives are apparently all sorrow and only a few moments of bliss.” She sniffed. “I’m tired.”
“That’s nothing compared to what we have with Neil. What are you saying?”
“This will be his life. One tragedy after another. That terrifies me.” She pressed the heels of her hands over her eyes and whispered to herself, “God, I can’t— All…all this…uncertainty. Why do you take me down this path?”
She had been reckless in choosing me: a musician with a bad heart. I was not a sound investment for a girl who’d already been through enough as a child. I was uncertainty. There seemed to be some unseen force out there that had decided to crush my marriage with hopeless dreams of a normal life.
Entering the hospital felt like entering a death chamber. I hated the smell: iodine, alcohol, flesh, death. I knew I probably wasn’t leaving this place with good news. To our surprise, the nurse who had seen us a few weeks ago greeted us and led us to the room.
“You may take a seat, Mr. Cardall,” said Ana, waving to a chair pressed against the wall as Olivia lay on the bed.
“No, I think I’ll stand for this.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, a grim expression on her face.
I braced for the worst when she placed the transducer on Olivia’s stomach. Ana frowned, sliding it around repeatedly. The corner of her lips trembled into a smile as her attention shifted between the screen and Olivia’s belly.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, afraid of her answer.
“Yes, actually. Yes.” Ana’s smile was contagious. “They’re fine. They’re both fine.”
“No!” Olivia’s head jolted up from the bed.
“Both heart rates are stable. Everything’s great.”
“Thank God.” I pressed a nail into my thumb just to ensure I wasn’t dreaming. The pain convinced me it was real.
“So they’re fine?” Olivia asked.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Ana affirmed.
Our Children
JULY 2007
“Paul. Paul!”
Olivia’s blaring voice woke me up and jolted me to my feet. I glanced at my flip phone, still a bit disoriented. It was midnight. I had fallen asleep on the floor of Neil’s room, next to his new toddler bed shaped like a race car. I’d gotten used to this new routine since he started having night terrors.
“Paul, come here!” Olivia shouted.
I ran into our room, my pulse pounding in my ears. The world stopped after I turned on the light switch. My eyes bulged at the image of our sheets turned scarlet.
“It’s bad. And the cramps”—she winced, sweat beading down her brow—“are really strong tonight.”
“I’ll call my mom and have her pick up Neil at the hospital.”
We rushed out of the house without a fresh change of clothes. Olivia’s white blood-soaked pajamas stared back at me. Neil was somewhat awake as we transitioned him to the car, his hair was spiked up like a mohawk.
Neil fell back to sleep once we were on our way. Olivia trembled, her teeth pressing down into her lip as she groaned. It was like riding the most frightening roller coaster—one with broken tracks and wild turns. I wondered what waited for us at the end of it: a drop, a climb, or a dark stillness.
