43. Ian
43
IAN
My deadbeat of a truck is giving up on me.
Who would have thought?
I've had the thing for as long as I can remember. It's been my closest friend. But now it keeps looking for a reason to pack up, and I keep fixing it.
Every time I take it to the mechanic, it comes back with another problem, so I've decided to be the one doing the fixing henceforth.
Last night I was on my way back from the station when it started to act out. I barely got it home in one piece.
“Daddy!” The voice of a small boy calls. Turning to see the boy running toward me, I drop the tool in my hand and open my arms for the embrace I know is coming.
He doesn't disappoint. He runs so hard into me I pretend to stagger just to humor him.
“Daddy, I'm strong!” he says excitedly.
Ruffling, his red hair that he got from his mother, I laugh as I bend to his height.
“Are you now? I wonder why that is?” I fuss, faking a confused look.
He giggles. He looks so much like his mother. The only thing he has from me is his eyes. Every other thing is Sarah's.
“It’s because Mommy gives me good food.” he declares, trying to show me his non-existent biceps.
It's a game he and Sarah play. Eat and you'll be strong. This was because he didn't like to eat. Now, she's just turned him into an unashamed foodie.
The boy can eat six times daily and he's still not satisfied.
“I guess you are right,” I murmur in agreement. There's no disagreeing with him if I want to get back to what I need to do.
Pushing upright, I take my hand off him and point him back into the house.
“How about you go put some of your mighty strength to work by helping Mommy inside the house?”
He shakes his head in denial. “Carry me.”
“Ryan,” I say his name in warning.
“Daddy, please.”
“Just a minute, and not a second more. I have to work, alright?”
“Alright,” he answers and starts to jump excitedly. I pick him up and toss him into the air a couple of times just as he likes.
He giggles loudly, screaming not to stop even though I know he's going to be dizzy soon. The boy just knows no limit. And that's what I love about him most. His resilience.
Something I know he got from his mother.
He's so strong-willed. It amuses me sometimes, especially when he puts it to test on the very person he got it from. She goes berserk trying to manage him. I just sit back and watch them both.
Slowing down, I bring him to my face level, letting his happiness wash over me, too.
“Love you little guy,” I say. His smile brightens and I start to drop him down. He starts to protest, but I pay him no heed.
“Daddy has to work. Go back to Mommy.”
The door to the house opens, and Olivia comes outside, a bowl of fruit in her hands.
“Come eat, Ryan.”
At her words, the little guy wrestles out of my grip and rushes toward her.
“Thank you.” I smile at her.
She shrugs, a smile on her face, too. “It's my duty as the only woman in the house,” she says.
That has me pausing. Only woman in the house. That's not possible.
“Where's Sarah?” I ask, a terrible feeling stirring in my gut.
Something is wrong.
“Sarah is not here, Ian. She's at the hospital. That's the sacrifice she paid for us to be here together. For Ryan to be born.”
What's she talking about? She's not making any sense.
Why would Sarah be at the hospital? What sacrifice did she make?
Everything was fine. I sorted it out. I handled Peter. And then she told me she loved me. Everything was okay, until…
Something happened, but I can't remember what it is.
“Why is Sarah at the hospital?”
“For the bone marrow transplant.”
What?
How can Sarah be at the hospital for the bone marrow transplant and Ryan is here? Shouldn't she still be here?
Something is wrong. I can't say what it is, but I know I have to find Sarah. She's the only one who can give an explanation for everything that's going on.
Stepping away from my car, I realize I'm back at Glazer Ville, in front of Sheila's house. If I have to get to Sarah soon, I'll have to take a flight.
I can't find Olivia or Ryan again. Maybe they're inside the house.
I start to walk away from Sheila's house, but then I realize I need a car, so I turn back, rush inside the house to get the keys to Sarah's car, and start to drive.
There's just one problem now. I'm no longer in Glazer Ville now that I'm in the car. I'm back in Louisiana. The city I grew up in, almost a day's journey away from New Jersey.
What on earth is going on with me?
With my heart beating fast in my chest, I continue to drive, finding myself in different places many times before I'm finally back in New Jersey and in front of the hospital.
I get out of the car and literally rush inside the hospital. I don't stop walking until I'm in front of Neville's ward. I push the door open, but Neville isn’t inside, and neither is Sarah.
On the chair is Peter, seated with a taunting smile on his face.
“Where is she?” I demand.
“You're late. You couldn't save her.”
I try to attack him, but I'm unable to get through to him. He's right in front of me, yet so far away.
“Come on, come at me. Threaten that you'll kill me this time around. It won't work. You're too late.”
I scream in frustration, trying so hard to get to him but not able to.
I hear the door to the room opening. I try to turn around to see who just entered, but my body won't move.
“Ian.” Sarah's voice comes from behind me. I'm still unable to move.
What the hell is going on?
She comes in front of me and hugs me. Suddenly, Peter is no longer in the room.
We aren't at the hospital. We're back in the bungalow. Sheila's seated with Olivia huddled up against her but Ryan is nowhere in sight.
Stepping away from Sarah, I look around the room, thinking maybe the boy is hiding somewhere, and all I have to do is look for him. But he's nowhere in sight.
“Where's Ryan?”
“Who's Ryan?” They all echo at once, driving me insane with fear.
Okay, whatever's going on has gone on long enough
I'm losing it.
Drawing in a calm breath, I address Sarah. “Where's our son, Sarah? Ryan? He was with Olivia before I came to fetch you from the hospital.”
Sarah sighs, looking at me with pity in her eyes. She steps close to me, her voice soft as she speaks.
“Ian, I lost the baby to save my father. I'm sorry.”
I scream, and then I'm suddenly pushing up against a bed, my eyes hurting so bad from the light in the room.
Sarah is beside me, seated on a chair. She immediately stands up.
“Ian? Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes filled with worry.
I open my mouth to answer. To tell her that I'm far from okay. But no words leave my mouth. Instead, I struggle to breath, panic passing through my lungs.
There's something seriously wrong with me. Everything hurts.
My eyes, my head, my side. Shit, it's like I've been run over by a truck.
“Ian, please calm down. Take a deep breath, stay calm for me,” she placates, but somehow, I'm unable to do as she says.
Looking around the room I'm now in, I realize it's a hospital ward. Does this mean I've been dreaming all this while?
“Tell me you're still pregnant,” I say, frantically gripping at her hand.
She looks at me in shock, confusion coating her voice. “What are you talking about?”
“The pregnancy. Are you still pregnant?”
“Of course, I am. You saved me, you saved us, remember?” She forces a smile, her other hand rubbing my palm holding onto her.
I don't remember anything. I just had a terrible dream, and now I'm unable to breathe right again.
I wheeze, my chest hurting so much I grip harder onto her.
“I need to call the doctor,” she says and starts to walk away from me.
“No!” I protest. I can't let her leave me right now.
“Ian, please, I'll be right back. I just need to pop my head out real quick and let them know you're awake.”
“No,” I say, trying to shake my head, but I only end up screaming from the piercing pain that follows the action.
My hold on her releases through the pain, and she runs out of the room, screaming for help.
The moment the door closes behind her, my vision starts to fade again. I try so hard to keep my eyes open, but it's hard. There's a fog pulling at me, and self-restraint has nothing on it.
Sighing, I stop struggling and let the fog take me under.
The next time I'm back to consciousness again, I'm unable to open my eyes or my mouth.
But I can hear sounds around me. There are beeping machines, indistinct conversations, and then a door opening.
I hear the sound of chair creaking before someone comes to stand over me. It's not just a person—there are two. All I have to do is let my sense of smell work to know who one of them is.
Sarah.
“How is he?” she asks whoever is with her.
“He's going to be fine. The surgery went well, but now he's in a coma, as you can see. We'll have to wait for him to come out of it on his own. From his vitals, I think it may be soon.”
Sarah doesn't say anything. The guy who I'm presuming is a doctor starts to touch me. First my face. He opens my mouth. Peels my eyelids. I can't see him, but I can feel everything he is doing.
“Ian. Can you hear us?” the guy speaks.
I'm unable to open my mouth to answer.
“You think he can hear us?” Sarah asks, her voice filled with worry and hope. I want to badly open my eyes and take that worry out of her voice.
She needs to not worry. I'll be fine.
“Some patients can. I can't say for sure if he can.”
He moves away from my face and goes to inspect other parts of my body, all while I struggle to move a part of my body, any one, just to tell Sarah that I am here.
But nothing works.
Soon, I'm tired again and the fog is back to pulling me under. Before I succumb, I let myself remember the horrible dream and I'm grateful that's all it was.
I can't imagine a life without either Sarah or our child.
All I need to do now is get out of this coma and tell Sarah how much I love her.
How do I do that?