by Wade, Ellie
“Come on, sweetie.” I grab Lindi and then race into the building, desperate to find out about Loïc.
I need him to be okay.
I’m told that Loïc is still in surgery, and I’m instructed to wait in the waiting room. I hold Lindi on my lap as she happily flips through books. I, myself, don’t feel much of anything. A terrifying numbness has taken over me.
I jump when my phone goes off. I grab it from my purse and see that it’s my mom. I tell her where I am, and she tells me not to worry and that she and my dad will be here soon.
More time goes by. Each second is an eternity.
It’s not fair. This isn’t fair.
Loïc’s been through enough in his life. He doesn’t deserve this. He deserves happiness. Our life was perfect, and we’d earned it.
“London, honey.”
I hear my mom’s voice beside me. I stand with Lindi in one arm, and I wrap the other around my mom. Burying my face into her neck, I sob.
My mom and my dad wrap me and Lindi in their embrace.
After a bit, my parents drop their arms, and I look up to my mom.
“What happened? How is he?”
“I don’t know, Mom. All I know is that he was shot, and he’s in surgery. I don’t know where he was shot. He could’ve been shot in the head for all I know.” I cry.
“He could have also been shot in the arm, London. Don’t make it worse in your mind until we know,” my dad tells me.
“It is the worst, Dad. It’s not right. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve this.” My shrill voice echoes throughout the waiting room.
“We know, sweetie. It will be okay.” My mom squeezes my hand. “Is this our granddaughter?”
My attention snaps to Lindi. She’s resting on my hip, her arms around my neck, taking in the scene around her with curiosity.
She’s such a good baby.
“Yeah.” I smile, despite the massive sorrow permeating my heart. “This is our girl, Lindi Blue. Isn’t she perfect?”
“She is,” my mom agrees.
I introduce Lindi to my parents. She takes them in, thoughtfully staring at them, and then touches their cheeks with the palms of her hands.
“That means she likes you,” I say warmly.
I watch as my parents ooh and aah over Lindi while she wins them over with her innate charm.
Please let my baby grow up with a daddy, I pray.
Eventually, Lindi is comfortable enough with my parents that she sits on my mom’s lap while my mom reads her books. The sight melts my heart. This is such a special moment, and it shouldn’t be like this. My parents are meeting their first grandchild for the first time…in a hospital waiting room while we wait to find out if their granddaughter’s daddy is going to live.
A couple of military officers enter the room. I stand, knowing that they’re here for me. I ask them if they know anything about Loïc’s condition. They don’t. They ask me a few questions. I tell them what I know—that Loïc got a text from Tommy this morning, and it didn’t sit well with him, so he left to check on him. They confirm that it was Tommy who shot him, but in my heart, I already knew that.
They leave, and I sit back down.
I don’t understand why Tommy did this. Loïc cares so much about him. Loïc has tried to help Tommy over and over again. He’s spent countless nights tossing and turning, trying to figure out a way to make Tommy’s life better. And this is how Tommy says thank you? It literally makes me sick.
I press my arms against my belly that burns with bile, willing myself not to throw it up. I honestly can’t think about Tommy right now. There is so much worry and fear in me. I can’t possibly add an immense amount of anger to the equation. I’d explode. It’s too much. I pull in a deep breath, wishing all thoughts of Tommy away.
Loïc.
I have to focus all of my energy on Loïc.
I picture the three of us—Loïc, Lindi, and me—in the future. I see us tomorrow. Lindi throws a blueberry toward Loïc, and he catches it in a dramatic fashion, causing Lindi and me to cheer. I see us next summer and picture Loïc teaching Lindi how to ride her super-pink tricycle, complete with pink and purple tassels coming out of the handlebars. It was a present for her second birthday, and she loves it. I see us in several years as Loïc and I drop our perfect princess off for her first day of kindergarten. I’m, of course, a crying mess. Loïc wraps his arm around my shoulders, strong and steady—my rock. But, in my peripheral, I don’t miss his free hand wiping away a stray tear from his face because the sight of our girl growing up is that special and bittersweet. I imagine it all—from her losing her first tooth to learning how to drive, from her first heartbreak to her wedding. In all of my pictures, Loïc holds a significant role. He’s there for me and for our daughter. He’s always there.
I can’t imagine what it’d be like without him, and I don’t want to. He’s there. He has to be. My dreams could never be complete without Loïc. It’s because of him that such beautiful dreams exist.
So, while we wait, I replay my family’s future on repeat in my mind. I put these images out into the universe, letting the creator know how it’s supposed to go, how it needs to happen. A life without Loïc isn’t a life I want to live. There would be less joy, less love, less purpose in my world. That’s why losing Loïc is not an option.
It’s not.
It’s not.
He’ll be okay.
He’s strong.
A strong grip on my shoulder causes me to open my eyes. My dad sits beside me, staring thoughtfully. I’m suddenly aware of the streams of tears rolling down my face, and I wipe them away with my shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” my dad says.
With his hectic work schedule, he was never the one to handle the hard stuff. Mom was there to wipe my tears and hear my frustrations throughout my childhood. He wasn’t the type of father that Loïc is. He wasn’t hands on or present. But I know he loves me, and I can see the pain in his eyes. He’s hurting because I am.
“Thanks, Daddy. I know. It will be.”
It has to be.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close. I lay my head against his shoulder. His touch brings a small amount of comfort. Now, it’s just spinning. No matter how old a girl gets, she’ll always need her daddy. He wasn’t always there for me, but he’s here for me now. I’m grateful. His strength is holding me together.
“Your sister called,” he says after a minute. “She was at the house with Paige. They’re driving over here now.”
I nod.
Soon, Paige and Georgia arrive. They hug me, and I hug them back. No amount of people, words of encouragement, or love is going to ease my aching heart. I just need Loïc to be okay. That’s the only thing I can focus on.
My mom introduces them to Lindi, and I sit back down next to my father and wait.
The girls take Lindi to the cafeteria to get some food. People come and go from the waiting room. The girls come back. Lindi falls asleep on my mother’s chest. And, still, I wait.
Finally, a man in blue scrubs comes into the waiting room. I lunge out of my chair and close the gap between us. I stand in front of him, silently begging him to tell me what I want to hear.
And he does.
“The surgery went well.”
I let out the breath I was holding. My knees go weak, and I’m sure I’m falling until I feel my father’s arm around me. Sobs that I have no ability to stop escape me.
“He’ll be okay?” I choke out.
The doctor nods. “He’ll be okay,” he reassures me. “He was actually very lucky. The bullet went through his abdomen but missed all of his major organs and his spine. He was shot at such a close range that it’s astounding more damage wasn’t done. There was a lot of internal bleeding, which is why the surgery took a long time. We repaired everything, and he should be fine. We want to keep him in the hospital for a week or so and monitor his progress. He’ll be sore for quite a while, but he shouldn’t
have any issues long-term.”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I hug the surgeon, soaking his scrubs with my tears. “I will never be able to repay you for saving my husband. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Berkeley. No repayment needed.”
I take a step away, and he gently squeezes my arms. I smile back at who I’m sure is an angel on earth.
What a gift this man is.
“Thank you,” I say again. “When can I see him?”
“They’re moving him to recovery now. Someone should be out to get you shortly.”
The surgeon leaves, and the rest of us fall into a group hug. I make eye contact with Lindi, and she’s looking at me with uncertainty in her eyes.
Poor baby. What a confusing day for her.
“Come here, baby girl.” I hold out my arms, and Lindi dives into them. “Everything is okay.”
“Ma, kye.” Lindi touches my tear-soaked face.
“Mommy is crying because she is so happy,” I tell her truthfully.
“Pee?”
“Yes, so happy.” I pepper her cute little cheeks with kisses and soak in her giggles.
The nurse calls us back to Loïc’s room. She tells us that only two visitors are allowed at a time, but when we all follow, she doesn’t protest.
I gasp when I see Loïc lying in the hospital bed. I open my mouth to speak, but I only end up choking on air. It’s heavy, suffocating.
He has all sorts of wires and IVs jutting out from his body. There are machines beeping and bags with clear liquid dripping into the tubes connected to his arm. He’s very pale and still sleeping. He barely looks like himself, and the sight of him is rather haunting.
The nurse checks the monitor and messes with one of the IVs.
“When will he wake up?” I ask her, finding my voice.
“Could be hours or tomorrow. He’s still pretty sedated, and we’re also giving him pain meds, which will make him sleepy. His body has gone through a lot of trauma, and the body repairs itself in sleep.”
“But he’s okay?”
“He’ll be fine, sweetie. Just give him some time,” the nurse says.
“Can I stay with him tonight?” I ask.
“Of course.” She points to the big faux-leather chair. “This reclines back. I’ve heard it’s pretty comfortable to sleep in. There are extra blankets and pillows in the closet.” She points to the door on the wall.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let you all visit for a few minutes but try not to stay too long. It’s best that he gets rest right now. And there’s only supposed to be two visitors at a time.” She smiles kindly.
“We appreciate you letting us visit. Thank you,” my dad says.
The nurse gives him a nod and a smile before leaving the room.
Lindi points to Loïc. “Da?” she says softly.
“Yes, Lin, that’s Daddy.” I walk toward his bed with her in my arms. “He got a boo-boo, but he’ll be fine. He’s sleeping. Daddy’s tired.”
“Da,” she says again.
“Yes, that’s Daddy.”
Lindi touches Loïc’s hand, and I kiss his face.
Everyone else touches his hand, and then we all stand around his bed for a while. No words are spoken because, really, what is there to say?
After a half hour, I give my dad my car keys and let him know where I parked the car. I go over Lindi’s bedtime routine with my mom.
“I’m sorry this isn’t quite the party you all hoped for,” I say with a sad grin. “I told the caterer where the spare key was. They should have set up the food, so there will be plenty to eat.”
“Don’t you worry yourself.” My mom tightly hugs me. “I’m so glad we’re here to help you. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“And I love her already, so much.” My mom smiles to Lindi, who’s sitting on Georgia’s lap.
“She’s pretty easy to love.”
I say good-bye to everyone and thank them for being here today.
I grab Lindi from Georgia. “Baby girl, Mommy is going to stay with Daddy tonight. I will see you tomorrow. You’re going to go home with Grandma and Grandpa. You’ll be okay. You’re safe. They love you and will take very good care of you. I promise. Is that okay?” I ask her.
She doesn’t respond, but I can see in her eyes that she understands for the most part. She isn’t scared.
I kiss her and hug her in my arms before saying, “Mimi upendo daima.”
I will love you always.
“Mi oo da,” she mimics.
“See you tomorrow. I love you.” I kiss her one more time before handing her to my mom.
With my family gone and the knowledge that Loïc will be okay, the exhaustion of the day weighs on me, and it takes physical effort to make it the four steps to Loïc’s bed. I gently crawl onto the bed and lie beside him. I rest my head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. I can see the beats on the monitor, but I need to hear it for myself to make sure it’s real.
I know Loïc’s heart. I know when it beats with worry, excitement, exhaustion, and need. I’ve memorized its beats while falling asleep, listening to its beautiful song every night. There’s not another heart that could possibly love me more. It beats for me and, now, for Lindi, too.
I will my head to lift off his chest, not wanting to hinder his body’s recovery. But the melodic rhythm keeps my ear against him. After a very long and horrible day—the worst day in my life—I just need to listen to his heart for a bit longer. Each thrum reassures me that it’s going to be okay.
He’s going to be okay.
I’m going to be okay.
Lindi’s going to be okay.
We’re all going to be okay.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Loïc
“Happily ever after isn’t a destination. It’s a journey.”
—Loïc Berkeley
I smell her hair, always the same alluring fruity scent. I smile sleepily and instinctually bend to kiss the top of her head. The movement sends sharp pains throughout my body. I let out a groan.
It’s then I realize that London’s here, but we’re not at home. The sounds, the smells, this bed—it’s all wrong.
Where am I?
What’s going on?
My pulse rises as I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to remember. It all comes back to me.
Tommy…the shot.
I’m alive.
I try to make my body work to assess the damage, but nothing is moving right. Most of my body is heavy and numb, and the parts that aren’t hurt.
I look around the room. It’s dim, but the accessory lights keep it lit enough to see everything. I search for clues for my condition, but I don’t see anything.
“Loïc?” London whispers. She lifts her head from me and props herself up on her elbow. Her eyes are swollen and red from crying.
My heart sinks.
It’s going to be bad.
I try to speak, but my throat is so dry, and sound doesn’t come. I swallow hard and try again. “Hi,” I croak out.
“Hi,” London says, tears now rolling down her cheeks.
She reaches toward the side table and grabs a Styrofoam cup with a straw. She bends the straw toward my lips, and I take a drink. The cold water is exactly what I needed, and I feel marginally better.
“What’s the damage?” I ask her.
“You’re going to be okay.” She smiles. “The bullet missed all of your major organs and spine. You were in surgery for a long time. You had extensive internal bleeding, but they fixed you up. You’re going to be fine. It will be painful while you heal, but the doctor doesn’t think you’ll have any long-term effects.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, releasing a long breath. Relief spreads over me. I’m so thankful that I’m not paralyzed and that I didn’t lose anything major, like a kidney or another limb.
“Oh, thank God,” I say.
> “I know. It was such a horrible day—like, the scariest day ever,” London says through tears.
I lift my arm, trying not to grimace as pain shoots through me, and I wipe away the evidence of London’s sadness. I hate seeing her cry. “Where’s Lindi?”
“She’s at home with my parents. She’s good. She immediately warmed up to everyone, not that I’m surprised. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“Yes, she is,” I agree.
London takes my face in her hands. “Please don’t ever do that to us again. I can’t risk losing you, Loïc. I can’t live without you.”
“You could,” I say. For some reason, I want her to know that she would be strong enough.
“I couldn’t.” She shakes her head. “And I don’t want to.” Her lip trembles. The exhaustion of the day is so evident on her face. “I didn’t know for most of the day if you were going to make it. It was my worst nightmare, Loïc. I can’t go through that again.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m just happy that you’re okay.” She kisses me again. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
Suddenly, I remember. “Tommy?” I ask hastily.
“I don’t know.” London shrugs. “Hopefully, locked up.”
“So, he’s alive?”
London looks confused. “I’m not sure. I didn’t think to ask. What happened?”
I tell London how Tommy was when I found him. “He didn’t try to shoot me, London. It was an accident.”
“How do you accidentally shoot someone, Loïc? He almost killed you. He almost left me a widow and Lindi without a dad. That’s not an accident,” she says with so much anger.
I shake my head against the pillow. “He wasn’t in a good place. He wasn’t himself. He was trapped in the darkness. He didn’t try to shoot me. He was holding the gun out to get me to stop. His hand was shaking. I know he didn’t mean to pull the trigger, London. I know it. Tommy’s a great shot. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. It wasn’t intentional, and I’m sure he feels absolutely horrible about it. He needs help. I need to talk to him.” I scan the room for my belongings, specifically my phone.
