24. Ethan
24
ETHAN
I left the nursing home and started toward home, but the idea of sitting alone in my house while Mom slept felt like torture. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I'd thought that Lily and I had a chance. Now I wasn't sure what we had. She'd been lying to me this entire time. The idea that she could sleep with me and be so intimate and have kept such a huge secret from me had me questioning what was real and what wasn't.
It didn't feel right leaving this hanging in the air. I felt like I wouldn't sleep or be able to work or focus on anything until the two of us had a very long discussion. There were too many things unspoken, so many questions I had about my son and why she never told me about him. And it didn't matter that I knew nothing about him or even what his middle name was. The instant she told me he was mine, love deeper than the ocean welled up inside me for him.
My son had just undergone a major operation and he was lying in a hospital bed weak and probably barely conscious. I needed to be there for him, if for no other reason than to live my life without regret. I didn't know if Lily wanted me there or how she'd react to my wanting to be a part of his life, but I knew if I didn't go, ten years from now, I'd feel like a failure as a father. He was mine, and my heart told me being there for him was the right thing.
So I turned toward Mountain View and decided that if she chased me away, I would at least know that I had tried to be a good father. I know it was what my own father would have done, what my mother would expect me to do. And it eased my heartache the instant I made the decision to do so.
I pulled back into the parking lot a little before two. The place looked like a ghost town. Visiting hours were over at eight p.m. every day, so most family members were already gone for the day. The night shift was light too, not as many doctors and nurses. We didn't do surgeries at night unless they were emergencies, and none of the in-house offices took appointments after five p.m. I was able to park in the front row.
On my way to the elevators, I passed Lily's parents. I met them more than once in the past. They were good people, and I fully believed that Lily had either sworn them to secrecy about Noah or that they had no clue he was mine. I knew they liked me when Lily and I were dating. Though, with as hurt as she was when she left Denver five years ago, it was possible her father harbored a grudge.
"Mr. and Mrs. Carter," I said, approaching them.
They looked uncertain and hesitant. Mr. Carter had a furrow between his eyebrows that mirrored the grand canyon, snaking down his forehead to his aquiline nose. I could see the fatigue in both of their eyes, but Mrs. Carter held a tired smile and her hand shot out to take mine.
"Ethan, it's so good to see you." Her grip was timid and gentle, and I noticed Lily's father did not extend the same gesture of goodwill.
"Ethan," he grunted and placed a protective hand in the small of his wife's back.
"I, uh…" I sighed and then took a deep, calming breath. "Is Lily still up there?" I didn't want them to think I was going on the offensive. Yes, I was very hurt by her revelation, but that talk with my father showed me how human I was, how prone to failure. Lily had been hurt pretty badly. I totally understood her leaving town without saying a word. Keeping the secret once she got back was what hurt me.
"She is," Mr. Carter said, and the frustration in his tone was obvious. "They're resting."
"Did Noah wake up yet?" I figured Dr. Adams had the boy sedated, but there was a chance they had been able to say hello, at least.
"Sleeping," Mrs. Carter said, and she elbowed her husband gently in the side.
I knew any words I had to say to them would fall short of the deep apology I knew they expected. I broke their little girl's heart so long ago, and they were there to pick up the pieces. I left the mess they cleaned up, but I never even realized what a mess that was until it was too late. Until Lily just never returned my calls or showed up. Months went by, not a call or text, and then I heard she left town and gave up hope.
"I know you probably don't know what to say to me or how to act. I want to apologize for what happened five years ago. I don't fully understand Lily's pain, but I recognize how badly I hurt her." My words felt empty, like they were too little consolation a bit too late, but it was all I had to offer them. "I can see why she was upset enough to keep such a secret from me." I assumed they knew what I was talking about and got the confirmation I needed in the recognition on Mrs. Carter's face.
"Ethan, you don't have to?—"
"But I do," I said, cutting her off. "I want you to know, Mr. and Mrs. Carter, that I in no way intend to cause problems for Lily or Noah. We have a lot of things to talk about, and maybe it will or out or maybe it won’t. But right now, nothing could be more important to me than making sure my son is cared for in the best way possible. That includes making sure his mother is okay."
David's expression softened, and I saw the heart of a father in his eyes. He wanted to make sure his child and grandchild were safe, but my words were bringing him hope. His shoulders relaxed, and he extended his hand to me.
"Dr. Matthews, I appreciate your words and respect your thoughts." His lips pressed together into a line as he shook my hand, and when he pulled his hand back, he said, "Just make sure she sleeps a little. She's going to be so tired tomorrow when Noah needs her."
I took that as permission for me to go up to their room, which I didn't need, but I valued deeply. I nodded at them, and without saying anything else, Ellen hugged me and then they walked away. I watched them until they walked through the exit doors and vanished into the night. Then I turned toward the elevators.
When I finally walked into Noah's room, I heard Lily snoring softly. She was draped over the side of the bed with her hands wrapped around Noah's. I didn’t want to disrupt her, so I shooed the nurses away and checked Noah's vitals myself. His blood pressure and heart rate were steady. He didn't have a fever, and he was resting peacefully.
It allowed me to really take a good look at him for the first time. In surgery, I hadn't allowed myself to really examine him. I had to focus, to keep my heart in check and make sure he got the best care possible. But now, as tears welled up in my eyes, I marveled over how perfect he was. He looked so much like his mother that had she not told me the truth, I would fully have believed her if she'd lied and said he wasn’t mine.
He snored lightly too, sounded just like Lily, and I pinched the bridge of my nose to stop from crying. How many years I had lost with him, missing his first steps, first words. I didn't know what his favorite food was or what shows he liked to watch. I wondered if he knew his letters and numbers yet, or if Lily had taught him any nursery rhymes. I wanted to hold him too and cradle his frail little body in my arms to protect him.
So very many emotions washed over me, so many things I wanted to say and ask. But Mr. Carter was right. Lily needed her sleep or she would be no good for him, and since Noah knew nothing about me, I couldn’t exactly pick up the slack. Though, just looking at him and how full my heart felt knowing he was mine, I hoped one day, I would be able to. How would that go, anyway? How did you tell a four-year-old, "This man is your father but you've never met him."
I checked his chart as a distraction to avoid crying anymore. This time, I really examined it. The information in my file was limited, but this file on the computer in his room held all his medical records back to birth. Dr. Butler had them forwarded here so that Dr. Adams and I could review them. Noah had been through so much for such a little guy, and I hated that I wasn't there for any of it. I wasn’t angry with Lily as much as I was disappointed that I had missed it.
When I locked the computer, I decided to sit down next to her and wait for her to wake up. Certainly, it wouldn't be very long. With her neck craned like that, she'd get a kink in one of those muscles and her body would rouse her. So I pulled up a chair and sat down, but the noise startled her and just as I was seated, she sat straight up and looked at me with surprise and fear.
When the initial shock of being woken up wore off, she said, "Ethan…" and I heard the sorrow in her tone.
"Can we talk?" I asked, nervous she was about to throw me out, but she bit her lower lip and nodded her head.
Now, if God would only grant me the serenity to know the things I couldn't change and the courage to embrace the present, everything would go well.