Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Adam
I usually fed Rosalie her last nightcap bottle in front of the TV while catching a game. But tonight, I sat in her dimly lit room rocking her, singing her some silly lullabies, and trying to think my way through the past day.
I would give my life for the tiny baby in my arms. Period. And I was pretty sure that I loved Ani. But marriage? A child? A lifetime commitment? That was…a lot.
Guilt and confusion hung heavily over me like an anvil about to fall. Ani was extraordinary. The baby was wonderful. What was my problem?
Liv had been gone for a long time, and the dull ache had finally dimmed. I was slowly understanding that love was possible again.
But what if tragedy unfolded again, the kind that I’d been so helpless to stop? Now I had two people to protect, to keep safe, and what if I couldn’t? Life was random and out of control. I couldn’t survive that kind of pain again.
I was startled by a faint rap on the doorframe. Ani stood there in her pink fluffy robe, her hair wet from the shower, looking fresh and adorable. She shuffled into the room with pink fuzzy slippers and sat down on the carpet in front of the rocker, crossing her legs.
“Thanks for grabbing her while I was in the shower.”
Rosalie had passed out, her head lying on my arm, her arm tossed out with complete abandon. “Look at this,” I whispered to Ani, marveling at Rosie’s ability to fall asleep in the silliest positions.
Babies were so amusing. I tried to dwell on the lighter side because something in Ani’s face looked absolutely grave.
It made me hold the baby a little tighter.
Thoughts rose in my head, possibilities that this life was all a dream, one that could be taken away at any moment.
Even with all my confused thoughts, I didn’t want to lose Ani or Rosalie.
I was facing a wall of pure fear that I had no idea how to climb over.
I set the baby in her crib, covered her up, and quietly turned on the monitor. We filed silently out of the room and closed the door.
“It’s a nice night,” Ani said. “How about we go outside?”
I followed her onto the tiny brick patio. Moonlight was streaming over the little yard in bright stripes, washing everything in a white-gray glow, hitting the overgrown but crazily-blooming rosebushes in a way that looked ethereal.
We sat side by side on a garden bench. She reached over and held my hand.
“You’re such a good guy.” She looked sideways at me. “So kind, so good-hearted.”
I’d lived long enough to know that any sentence a woman speaks that starts with “You’re such a good guy” isn’t going to end well.
“I’d do anything for both of you,” I said, choking up. She looked sad. Somehow, I knew what was coming.
“I know that.” She went silent. The garden crickets’ song, usually so peaceful, seemed now to be a high-pitched whistle, the kind a coach blows when a player screws up on the field. “That’s why I can’t let you do this.”
“Ani, no.” I turned to her. “I meant what I said. I take care of people.” Why wouldn’t she just let me do that?
At least this was something I could do to solve a big problem.
From that perspective, the decision was easy and clear.
I might feel a sense of dread, but at least I didn’t feel the horrible helplessness I did when Liv got sick and the entire world bottomed out.
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
I jerked up my head, thrown by her words. But there was more.
“Between my jumping in impulsively and you trying to save me, we could get into this for all the wrong reasons.”
I heaved a sigh. She’d stabbed me with the first comment and then finished me off with the last. “So I’m a little reluctant, okay?
” I stared straight down at the bricks, noticing for the first time all the little weeds that had managed to grow in between the cracks, and how I’d failed to take care of those. “I’m working through it.”
She nudged my arm, gently forcing me to look at her. “I swept you up in this whirlwind. You were the guy on the plane who turned into a Good Samaritan. You helped me through the most difficult moment of my life, and you kept being there. You got pulled into the undertow when you weren’t ready.”
“I’m the judge of whether I’m ready or not.” But inside, the terrible pitching of my stomach told me that what she was saying was spot on. I’d let myself get swept along, and it had been a wild ride. But my head was whirling.
“You’re noble and good-hearted, but I don’t want to marry someone to keep my baby. I want to marry someone because I love them, and they love me. Marriage is not something you do for any other reason, Adam. I learned that lesson the hard way.” She stood up. “I can’t marry you.”
I was bleeding here. Plus, she’d said my baby, not our baby, and that jarred me. “The risk of losing Rosie is too high to stick to the fairy tale script. I’m sorry I can’t give you all sunshine and flowers, but I can work this out.”
I struggled to think. I’d tried to give everything I had. Hadn’t I?
It was natural to feel a little reluctant under these circumstances, I rationalized.
I wasn’t like Ani, plunging headlong into adventures.
A year ago, I was practically an inanimate object.
I’d come a long way, but I didn’t know what else I could do not to feel a sense of caution here. I had no idea how to tell her that.
What do you want from me?” came out instead, all my frustration pouring out into that one sentence.
“Something you can’t give,” she said flatly. “All of you. Someone filled with joy and happiness at the prospect of spending their life with me.” She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “I deserve that.”
She stood up straighter. The moon was shining on her, lighting her up.
Even now I marveled at her beauty. And her certainty.
It sank in that she was right—she did deserve better than me, someone who had taken every step with extreme caution.
I dragged my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t figure out how to turn this around.
I couldn’t stop my sense of panic that things were moving way too fast.
She watched me with an eagle eye, knowing like she always did more about me than I did myself.
“From the outside,” she said, “we look like a fairy tale. A perfect couple, a perfect baby. Rosie is beloved by both of us. But you and I—I can’t love us enough for both of us and hope for the best. I won’t. It’s not fair to either one of us.”
She walked over to me like she did when she was ready to jump into my arms. Instead, she stopped and pulled me to her, holding my head against her and wrapping her arms around me.
She was right.
Maybe I simply wasn’t capable of fully loving someone ever again.
Ani
I showed up at my mom and dad’s house at seven the next morning, Rosie in tow. The truth was, I hadn’t slept all night, so when she woke up at six, I decided that I had to get out or I was going to fall asleep on the job. Plus—and I had a hard time admitting this—I needed my mom.
My complicated, interesting, sometimes annoying mom, whom I somehow felt wouldn’t have the same reaction to Adam’s declaration that my friends had. I hoped she’d understand, because I felt desperate for someone to talk to.
While Arnold intuitively understood that I was out of sorts and would be more than happy to stick like glue to my side for comfort, I didn’t have the luxury of breaking down with Rosie to care for.
My mom answered the door, cell phone in hand, wearing cute yoga pants and a blue top that matched her eyes.
I’d have to borrow that. I heard a soothing female voice in the background saying, “Inhale space into the tight spots, and as you exhale, let go of any effort that’s not serving you right now. ”
“Ani,” she said with surprise. “Did I miss a call from you?”
“No, I just walked over.”
“Oh.” She sounded surprised. That got me thinking that I never really did walk over here just because. Maybe I should start.
She immediately bent over and checked in with Rosie, telling her good morning and how lovely she looked. Then she straightened up. “Did you do an ER shift last night? You look terrible.”
I knew she’d call it as she saw it. But then, that’s why I was here. She’d assess the situation objectively. I wasn’t sure if she’d be comforting, but honestly, I was out of options. As I had this desperate thought, the tears began to roll.
She grabbed my elbow. “Oh my goodness, what’s wrong?
Come in! Do you need me to take Rosie this morning?
I have an art guild board meeting at eleven, but honestly, she’d be a big hit.
Come in!” She practically dragged me into the house and immediately set about releasing Rosie from her stroller and grabbing the diaper bag I’d shoved underneath.
I walked into the sunny family room, flooded with morning sunlight. How strange it was to have my parents here, in town, but not in our same old house. It was as if all that history had been erased.
But maybe it was a chance to start fresh. For my mom and me, that was.
“Where’s Dad?” I asked as she grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and spread it on the carpet. She then laid Rosie down, jabbering to her all the way while I grabbed a few toys from her bag.
“Golf with the guys and breakfast,” she said. Then she ran into the kitchen.
“Mom, come back. Stop fussing.”
She handed me a glass of something. The color was just a notch under nuclear, glowing green. And it was loaded with chia seeds. I took note of the eager expression on her face. “What is this?” I asked.
“It’s a green protein smoothie. You look like you could use it.” She seemed thrilled to
see me. Eager to help. As if she’d been waiting for the day when I’d spontaneously seek her out.
That made me a little sad because we weren’t the type of mother-daughter combo who lived a few streets away and shared recipes and went to T.J. Maxx together on the weekends. Why weren’t we?