by S. M. Soto
We spend the next hour and a half waiting for news on Ava, and when the doctor comes out, he explains what happened.
“Let me start by saying that your daughter is going to be fine. She’s stable and asleep. She’ll be a little tired from the loss of blood and the transfusion. The issue wasn’t just that she cracked her head open. It was that she has a blood disorder. Hemophilia, when left undiagnosed, is dangerous. The simplest cuts can become an issue because the blood refuses to clot. Ava, in particular, is a difficult case because she exceeds most of the risk factors for blood disorders. It’s my belief, after witnessing the progression of her blood loss today, that she has a severe case of hemophilia.
“Hemophilia is generally classified by any particular coagulation factor that’s missing, and Ava is missing quite a few. She’s deficient in factors 7, 8, 9, 11, and 12. Because she’s missing so many of these coagulation factors, her body is simply incapable of stopping blood loss. No matter how much pressure you apply to the wound, it won’t clot. Though severe, this can be treated with medications and transfusions, like we administered today, to chemically stop the flow and clot the wound.
“We have her blood results, stating what factors are of concern. I would suggest buying her a medical alert bracelet, in case anything like this happens again, when either of you aren’t around. It’s rare, nowadays, that doctors aren’t able to diagnose a hemophilia patient, but if this accident had been on a larger scale, it could’ve gone either way. You’re both very lucky it was only a cracked head and not something life threatening.
“I want to prescribe some iron pills as well. Her iron deposits are extremely low, which aren’t helping with the clotting process either. She has four stitches that will dissolve on their own. The nurse will give you cleaning instructions, but it’s pretty straightforward. Please do not hesitate to bring her in if she experiences any more excessive bleeding or what you may suspect is internal bleeding.” He must notice the frightened expression on our faces because he softens, stepping into us and setting a careful hand on Baz’s shoulder. “I know this is a lot for you both to take in, but your daughter is going to be okay. She is being moved into another room at the moment, and once the nurses have her settled, you both can stay in there with her.”
Baz and I spend the night at the hospital beside Ava’s bed, and I refuse to take my gaze off her the entire time. My chest is tight for so many reasons. I’m glad she’s okay, I’m angry with myself for letting this happen, and I’m scared I didn’t know my sister as well as I thought I did. There is so much going on in my head, and I just want it all to stop.
The next morning, when Ava stirs, I can’t even hold back my sob when I have her back in my arms. I was so afraid I would lose her. I was so afraid I’d fucked it all up
I don’t want to think about the possibility of us truly being related. I don’t want to think about Vincent, Zach, or any of the Savages. I just want to focus on my daughter.
Baz drives us home. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since the possible ‘Madison having a child’ bombshell dropped. I get the feeling he’s processing, trying to work out how it could be possible, while I’m doing much of the same thing. I can’t help but wonder that, if it is true, how was I so blind? If they did, how did my family keep a secret as huge as this from me?
After helping me settle Ava in bed next to me, Baz hovers near the foot of the bed. His gaze rakes over us, a tension radiating off him in waves.
“I’m going to pick up her prescriptions, and I’ll be back with some food for you guys.” I get the feeling he doesn’t want to leave us, but if our fight earlier was any indication that we’re falling into the same old habits, he obviously still needs his space.
“Maybe you can have Dan do it for you?”
“I should handle it myself, just to make sure they give her everything she’ll need. I should probably go.”
“And what if I don’t want you to go?” I whisper, too afraid to look at him, in case he denies me. There’s a long beat of silence, then I hear his feet retreating out of the room and down the hall. The front door opens and closes, and my face collapses as a sob bursts from my chest. Loving is pain. I’ve never been surer of anything. I hate this feeling in my chest. It feels like my heart is being torn to shreds. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I need Baz in my life, but I can’t have him. And I hate the universe for it.
I’m sure he’s second-guessing his vow to be here for us no matter what. It would hurt, but I can understand if this is too much for him. He didn’t sign up for this. A pang shoots through my chest, and I tug Ava closer to me, basking in her warmth, something I was scared I’d never get to feel again.
My sob gets lodged in my throat when the sound of footfalls suddenly grows in volume. I pick up my head, with tears staining my face, and find Baz standing there watching me. His expression is tight. His jaw is grinding back and forth, as though he wants to say something but can’t find the words.
“What are you doing?” My voice shakes, betraying my emotions.
“Staying.”
He toes off his shoes, then his suit jacket. And all the while, I can’t contain my tears. Because I don’t deserve this man.
“Why?”
“Where else would I go?”
Baz climbs into bed with us, pulling my body flush against his. His warmth seeps into my skin, calming me. My body nestles into his, fitting perfectly. He’s the piece I’ve been missing my entire life. I can’t live without him. That much I’m sure of.
I trap my bottom lip between my teeth, stifling the tremble as the wave of emotion slams into me. I’m emotionally drained.
“I love you.”
Baz leans in, pressing a kiss in the center of my forehead. “I love you, too.”
It’s the first time he’s ever flat-out said the words to me, and I’ve never felt so full of emotions at once. I stare down at my sweet girl as I try to gather my emotions, so I don’t turn into a blubbering mess. When a man tells you he loves you, that’s the last thing you want to do.
I don’t know if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but the more I stare down at Ava, the more of Madison and myself I can see. I saw those pieces of us there, already, but I just thought it was because she was a lost little girl—exactly how I felt my entire life. But now, I can see the similarities more clearly than I could before. It makes it plausible. It makes it real.
“We’re pretty fucked, aren’t we?” I whisper. I feel his chest vibrate behind me with a husky laugh.
“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” I let out a sad sigh, and he presses a kiss to the back of my head. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way, Mackenzie.”
“I can’t lose you guys,” I whisper, clutching onto him, admitting my biggest fear.
“You won’t,” he reassures.
“You can’t promise that,” I argue.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust that this is going to work. Everything is going to work out. I promise.”
I shift on the leather seat, turning toward Baz. We’ve been sitting in the car for the last twenty minutes, while I gather my courage. Ava is asleep in the back seat. She was watching a movie on her iPad during the drive here and must’ve conked out sometime during the drive.
“You’re staying in here with her, right?” Baz opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off, too anxious for whatever is about to happen once I step foot out of this car. “Remember, you do not do anything until I give the okay. I’m going in there to talk to them first and get answers. Then, if things go…well, semi-okay, I’ll bring you guys in, okay?”
“You—”
“Oh, and don’t forget to roll down the windows in case she gets hot in here and—”
“Fucking Christ, Mackenzie. I’ve got it. Stop stalling. Stop overthinking this. Just go in there. They can’t hurt you. Understand me? I won’t let them.”
I almost break down and tell him that I don’t want to do
this. That I need him in there with me, but he’s right. I need to stop thinking, suck up my fears, and walk inside the house that I haven’t stepped foot in for nine years. Baz reaches across the center console and squeezes my hand in his, as if knowing I need the support. Gulping a shaky breath, I nod, mostly to myself, and push out of the door. I close the distance from the car to the house, and with each step, my heart pounds harder. Each step feels like ghosts from my past are reaching out from the ground, like vines, wrapping around my legs, trying to keep me rooted here. I can hear the blood roaring through my veins. My pulse is pounding in my ears, and it’s so loud, it’s deafening. I freeze on the doorstep. I know I should knock, ring the doorbell, do something, but I can’t seem to get my body to move.
There’s so much I want to say to my parents. I want to scream, kick, and yell, but I can’t do any of those things. I need to be calm, or today will never work in my favor. They’ll always view me as the daughter who needs help. The lesser version of Madison.
Summoning the courage to do so, I ring the doorbell, and my stomach twists as I wait. With my hands behind my back, I twist and twiddle my thumbs, a nervous tic I refuse to let them see and likely use against me. The second I hear the heavy footfalls on the other side of the door, I want to vomit. I want to turn around and forget about this whole plan. I don’t need answers. Who cares if Madison had a kid? Who cares if that kid is, in fact, Ava? Who freaking cares if I’ve unknowingly adopted that kid and love her as my own?
With my mind made up, I turn, hurriedly making my way down the stairs of the front porch. I glance helplessly at Baz in the car. I can’t make out his facial expression, but chances are, it’s a disproving one. I’m making a mistake. I know that now. I don’t need them to tell me anything. I have two of the most important people in my life sitting feet away. It doesn’t matter what my parents tell me.
I’m just clearing the last step when the front door opens, and I hear my father’s gruff voice.
“Mack?”
My heart squeezes painfully, and my chest aches. I pause with my back to him, unable to move. I feel the impending panic, the violent rise and fall of my chest, as it works to accommodate my heavy breathing. My body is trembling, my hands shaking so uncontrollably, I feel like I have tremors. I slam my eyes shut, and I inhale a deep breath, drawing in strength from the clean air out here. In those few seconds, I gather the courage to face my parents. After everything they’ve done, everything they’ve hidden from me, I’m going to go in there, hold my head high, and find out what really happened that summer.
Slowly, I turn to face my father. He looks older than when I last saw him. Seems like the guilt of putting your last living daughter in a mental facility has really fucked with him. The top of his head is balding, and the sides are now nearly all gray. His face is lacking in color, the lines much deeper than they were just months prior. He doesn’t look good. That much is obvious.
“Mark.” I nod my greeting, keeping my voice surprisingly even.
If I wasn’t paying close attention, and if I didn’t know my father the way I do, I would’ve missed the flinch. There’s no bigger shame to a parent than being stripped of the title “Dad” or “Mom.” And I’ve stripped Mark and Monica of both.
I clear my throat, squaring my shoulders. “Is Monica here? I wanted to talk to you guys.”
He rubs at the back of his neck, a pained look in his eyes, as he stares down at me. “Yes, she’s here. Come in.” He opens the door wider, inviting me inside, and then glances toward the car. His brows dip, likely noticing the bodies sitting inside, but he doesn’t comment on it.
Inside, I’m hit with the smell first. It’s the smell of my childhood. The smell of my mother and her Yankee candles and the wood floor cleaner she often uses, but there’s a new scent. It reeks of sadness. Not the kind of sadness we grew up with. This one is different. It’s lonelier. I follow my dad into the kitchen and try not to let my gaze wander. This isn’t a fun walk down memory lane. This is for business. This is to get answers.
I hate that when we walk into the kitchen, I stumble at the sight of my mother. She’s sitting at the table, looking worse for wear. If I thought my father looked bad, Monica has him beat. My dad clears his throat, grabbing her attention, and when her gaze lands on me, her eyes widen. The color drains from her face, and she suddenly pushes away from the table, rounding it so quickly, I don’t have time to process what she does next.
She tosses her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. My entire body locks up, tensing at the intrusion of my personal space. She must notice my lack of reciprocation because she slowly lets go and takes a wary step back. There’s guilt written all over her face. It’s there in the thin sheen of tears glimmering in her eyes.
She sniffles, glancing at her husband. “I had no idea you were coming here. I didn’t even know you were in—”
I laugh darkly. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.”
She snaps her mouth shut and jerks back as though I’ve slapped her. The fact that they both willingly threw me in a mental institution is the elephant in the room no one wants to broach.
“I’m not here to catch up or whatever it is you think this visit is for. I’m here for answers. I don’t know why I expect either of you to tell me the truth. It’s definitely not your guys’ strong suit.”
“Honey, we never wanted to hurt you.” My mom’s voice quakes. “We wanted to help you. You were acting—”
My dad cuts her off, shooting her a scathing glare. “None of that matters. Let’s just sit and talk. Ask us what you need to ask.”
Silence descends as we each lower ourselves into the chairs. My gaze pings back and forth between them as I try to figure out how to ask what I need to without potentially sounding even crazier to them.
“Did Madison really go to Italy on a foreign exchange program?”
My parents share a look with each other.
“Yes, you know this—” My mother starts to say, giving me a look that says, “Are you crazy? Why would you ask such a thing?”
“No.” My father sighs.
Every muscle in my body tenses. My mouth goes dry, as I play with the reality of the next words on my tongue. “Where was she then?”
My mom shoots my father a pleading look, and for the first time ever, my father looks at me with regret. “She was in Evermore, at St. Mary’s.”
I open my mouth but clamp my teeth together when I feel my chin wobble because I know what comes next. I think I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on Ava. Sniffing back the pressure in my nose, I steel myself.
“What did she go to St. Mary’s for? Why would you lie to everyone at school and in town about where she was?”
A tear slides down my mom’s cheek, and she looks down at the table. “Because your sister was pregnant. And the…” She chokes, pressing the back of her hand over her mouth to stop from sobbing. “The circumstances in which she got pregnant…we couldn’t let that get out. So, we sent her to St. Mary’s.”
Nausea swirls in my gut. “And what happened next?”
“She gave birth, then came back home.”
I bite my tongue until I taste blood. I want to scream. I want to yell. I want to hate them, all of them, for keeping such a big secret from me.
“So, instead of telling me, you guys lied. You guys covered it up and made her get rid of the baby to save your own asses. My whole life, you both made me feel like I was the problem. Everything I did, I tried to do to be better. To be the star child that you always thought she was. I spent every day loathing myself because I was never good enough.”
“You were good enough,” Mom cries.
“Obviously fucking not!” I swipe under my eyes, taking a second to compose myself. “What happened to the child?”
Their brows dip. “What child?”
I grow agitated. “The child she birthed. What happened?”
“The sisters at St. Mary’s took the child in. A few years later, a children’s organization
took over the care for the children at the orphanage before it closed down. Each child was taken to a different part of the state. Wherever there was room or a family that wanted them.”
My nails dig into the palms of my hands, pain slicing through my skin. “And you never once thought to check on the child? To find out who your grandchild was?”
They both look away, guilt written on their faces. “We wondered. But no, we never did.”
I stare at them, letting the silence linger between us. Part of me wants to tell them everything, especially about the first time I met Ava. About how she came into my life. How Baz made it possible that I now get to call her mine. But for some reason, I don’t say anything at all. I sit there, staring at them through my narrowed gaze, judging them for all their past mistakes. Some people aren’t built to have and care for children for reasons like poverty, drug abuse, and the inability to love. My parents’ reasons were none of the above, but deep within my heart, I know they were never meant to be parents. They’ve fucked us up, royally. Our family is so broken, beyond repair.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”
I scoff. “Yeah. Me too.”
My dad nods toward the driveway outside the window. “You can invite him in. I’ve seen the photos on the news. I know you two are together. That was why I signed the conservatorship over to him. Because in every photograph, the way he looked at you was something every father wants for their daughter.”
I glance out the window, staring out at the car, fighting back tears. My chin trembles as I war with my emotions. No. He doesn’t get to do that. He doesn’t get to play the good guy. He doesn’t get to make it seem like every decision he made was for the greater good.
A bigger person who was willing to let go of the past would call them both in and introduce them to my parents formally. But I’m not a bigger person. I never have been.
“No, I don’t think I will.” With that, I push away from the table and stand. I pause, trying to figure out what to say to them. As my gaze shifts between the two of them, my heart clenches. “You know, he’s the only man in my life who has never let me down. I’ve had more support from him in the year that I’ve known him, than I’ve ever gotten from either of you my entire life.”
