42. Luc
42
LUC
THE CHOICES WE MAKE
“ C an’t we just stay home?” Kari is stunning, her eight-month belly exiting the house a whole step before the woman herself. An inch of her stomach shows because even her maternity clothes struggle to cover her bulging bump. And her feet, already, are red and swollen despite being on them for only minutes. She sweats because it’s warm out, and her hair seems to have grown during pregnancy.
But fuck, she’s beautiful.
They say pregnant women glow. It’s a cliché, after all.
But I’ll be damned if it isn’t fact in Kari’s case. Her skin is clear, her freckles, like stars. Her eyes glitter with something playful. Something fun, even though she’s tired and begging to stay home.
“We could watch any of the movies you want to watch,” she pleads. “Even Top Gun , I suppose. If you feel really strongly about it.”
“I just wanna go to the hardware store real quick.” I beep the car unlocked but drop the keys into my pockets and head back to the front door. Taking her hands, I help her down the steps and onto the path I long ago transformed from overgrown weeds and cement leftovers, into something a little more functional. Steppingstones. Pebbles. And on either side, luscious grass. “I wanna check out the fencing options so we can get the yard taken care of.”
“We don’t need a fence,” she grumbles. But she walks. She clutches to my arms and allows me to lead her. “Our property backs into the trees, Luc. Let them be the fence.”
“Cute. Until a fuckin’ bear takes one of the babies while we’re not watching.” I shuffle her toward the car and around to the passenger door. Then helping her in, I crouch and lift her legs, smiling when she huffs and looks across, fatigued as though she’s just run a marathon. “You’re beautiful, by the way.”
“You’re a pain in my ass. I’m sweating like a pig, my feet hurt, I’m really hungry, but I don’t want to eat anything, and Twin A is about to get her ass grounded.” Hissing, she reaches down and presses her palm to her belly when a leg—or foot, maybe. Perhaps a knee or shoulder—distorts the skin and brings pain to the woman I swore to always protect. “She’s feeling fussy and it’s making it hard to breathe.”
“We really should come up with better names than Twin A and Twin B, huh?” I dive in and press a kiss to her forehead. Then I snag the seatbelt and hand it over so she can fix the latch. Closing the door, I skip around to my side and slide in. Far quicker than Kari. Way less puffing and wheezing.
Yeah. I owe her for life. I know.
“We’ll be quick, I promise.” I insert the key into the ignition and quickly start the car before she manages to escape. I want to go to the store. But I want to be with her too. Which means she has to come. She has to be here with me. “We’ll be an hour, tops. I’ll take you to lunch after. Then we can come home and watch something Hugh Grant starred in.” I glance over and smile. “Deal?”
She rolls her eyes and looks at the road as I pull out of our driveway and onto the street. “I like the name Billy, but for a girl.”
“After your dad?” I settle back as we cruise along the road. Not too fast. Not too slow. We’re in no particular rush, except to get back and watch movies. “Your dad was Bill.”
“William,” she sighs. “Which turned to Bill. I feel like, since this baby is bigger than her brother already, and my dad was a really tall guy, she could be Billy too. A kind of homage.” Insecure, she peeks from the corner of her eyes and studies me. “Does that sound okay? Do you have other suggestions?”
“Billy works just fine for me.” I reach across and set my hand on her thigh. So tiny compared to the size of her belly. “Billy is a cute name I can totally get on board with for a girl. What about our son?”
“Do you have a preference?” She nibbles on her bottom lip and studies me. “I named one, so maybe you can name the other.”
“Your mom’s name was Rose.”
“Yeah, but Jess and Kane already have Rosalie. No need to have cousins with the same name. What about your parents? Hugh and Sadie.”
“We’re not naming our son after Hugh Grant, no matter how sideways you try to slide in on it,” I chuckle. “And we already have our girl’s name. Sadie’s a cute name though, so maybe next time.”
She scoffs, rubbing circles over her swollen belly and attempting to hide the grimace Billy’s knee elicits. “You’re dreaming if you think I’m risking twins a second time. We’ll adopt,” she hisses. “Or find them in the street and keep them.”
“Felony charges. But you do you, babe. What if we name the boy Marcus?” I peek across and wait for her reaction. Good. Bad. Otherwise. “He named his son for me. He honored me with that, and he’s the second most important guy in your world.”
“Second.” She snickers, her lips curling up and her cheeks filling with a sweet pink. “You’ve always thought quite highly of yourself, haven’t you?”
“What about Dominic?” Nerves flutter in my belly, though it’s odd. Unexplainable, really. “If we’re not using family names, and you’re not jumping at using Marcus for a first name, I’ve always thought Dominic was cool. Dom. He’s a badass. There’s a famous skateboarder named Dominic, and a famous drummer as well. Dom sounds like a motorcycle rider.”
“My son is never getting a motorcycle,” she drawls. “Ever.”
“Dominic is a good, strong name,” I grin. “Dominic sounds like he can fight. He’ll catch up and overtake his sister’s growth once he’s no longer stuck in a tiny womb with no leg room. Then he’ll protect her later. They’ll take over the school, kicking ass and slamming people with skateboards when they act stupid.”
“You’re just planning out their entire futures based on a name?” She purses her lips. Though I see the smile hidden in the twitch. “What if Dom wants to play piano, or become a nurse, or can’t stand up on a skateboard?”
“He can do all of those things.” I twine our fingers together and bring them to my lips. “He and Billy can be whatever the fuck they want to be. Because you and I, and all their uncles and aunties, will have their backs and clear the way for success. It’s why we struggle, Bear. So our kids don’t have to.”
“What happens if our son falls in love with someone he can’t be with?” Her eyes flicker over my face. “What if he sends her away and breaks her heart? Risking a happy future because he was afraid of things going wrong.”
“Then we’ll tell our kids our story.” I press a kiss to her knuckles and pull into town, puttering along residential streets and making my way toward Main. “We’ll tell them how we met, and how we hurt. We’ll tell them the things we went through that were probably completely unnecessary, and then we’ll guide them, hopefully better than we guided ourselves.”
“How you guided us. All that shit was your fault, Luca. I was just being pushed around and told where to go.”
“Yeah.” I place our joined hands in my lap and drop my chin, hitting the indicator as we come upon Main Street. “I was young. Stupid. Impulsive. Hindsight never fails to make me feel like a moron.”
“Just as long as you’re aware.” Her phone rings, buried somewhere in the depths of her pockets, so she steals her hand from mine and tilts to the side to free the device. Pulling it out, then checking the screen, she casts a look my way while answering and placing the call on speaker. “Hello, Jessica. Obsessed with me, or what?”
“Just checking if you’ve popped yet. You’re about ready to go, Big Mama, and I wanna be at the hospital when you do.”
“You’re not invited into the birthing suite,” I grumble. “That’s my wife. You’re my sister. It’s called boundaries.”
She scoffs. “If you respected boundaries, then there wouldn’t be any twins coming any day now. Where are you guys?” She pauses for a beat and listens. “You driving?”
“We’re heading to the hardware store,” Kari drawls, firming her lips. “Luc thought today was a great day to build a fence in the backyard.”
“I’m not building the fence today. I’m sourcing supplies for the fence today. It’s called planning ahead, ladies. You ought to try it sometime.”
Though of course, just as the words leave my mouth, guilt trips along my veins and my eyes shoot to Kari’s. Of the two of us, it was her who styled the nursery. It was her who chose clothes for the babies, shopped for outfits and diapers. She was the one who built the changing table, because I chose shifts in the bus instead. She was the one who sourced formula samples, knowing despite her wishes to exclusively breastfeed, plans are often usurped by reality, and having twins will make breastfeeding more difficult. It was Kari who coordinated the meal trains our friends insisted upon, and Kari whose career will ultimately suffer after taking maternity leave.
“I’m sorry.” Guilt is like a thick, black sludge pumping through my veins. But I grab her hand again, draw it up, and press her palm to my cheek. I make her hold me because I’m weak and an asshole. “I was kidding. I didn’t mean it. ”
“Are you dilated yet?” Jess inserts her nose back into our reality, adding a fresh layer of fun to wash away the tension. “How many centimeters?”
“Not really an appropriate question to ask your sister-in-law,” Kari drolls. “You want to know the size of my vagina?”
“I was your friend before he was your husband. So stop being shy and describe your poon to me.”
“For fucks sake.” I release her hand and bring the car to a creeping roll as we approach an intersection. “Please never ask her that question again in front of me. It creeps me out.”
“I’m three centimeters,” Kari answers. “But I’ve been three centimeters for weeks. So that’s not new.”
“Contractions?”
“Nada. Things tighten a little now and then when I’m exerting myself. That’s pregnancy, not labor.”
“Have you picked a baby girl name yet?” Jess pauses for a beat. “Jess is available.”
“We have picked names,” I insert. “Jess isn’t one of them.”
“He’s cranky today, huh?” She verbally rolls her eyes as I bring the car to a stop and wait while the lights allow traffic to go. “Luc used to be fun. He was good entertainment. Now he’s a dad and such a drag.”
“I just wanna buy some shit for a fence,” I groan. “Then I want to go home and spend time with my wife. Remind me again why you’re calling and sucking my energy away?”
The lights turn yellow as two remaining cars cross, then red, though there’s no one on that side to pull up to the line. Finally, our light turns green, so I take my foot off the brake and place it on the gas instead.
“I’m just checking in on my best friend,” Jess grumbles. “I feel we’ve already covered the fact that she was mine before she was yours. My best friend, right now, is practically crowning with a couple of Lenaghan babies. I’m entitled to ask about it.”
“One of the babies is breech anyway.” Kari rubs her belly again. “I won’t be pushing, no matter when this all goes down. We’re getting as close to forty weeks as we can, and then the theater is waiting for me when we get there.”
“What if you?—”
I look to my right for reasons I can’t truly explain. No noise called me that way. No apparent movement. Nothing but Kari and her two hands, one holding the phone, and the other stroking her belly. This town is tiny. It’s rare for a trip from one side to the other to take more than ten minutes. Traffic jams don’t exist, and car accidents are few and far between.
There are simply not enough of them on the road at one time.
But the universe decided today would be that day. A rusty, old, piece of shit truck doesn’t even glint in the sunlight. The paint is too peeled. The hood, too rusty and dented. The front light is already busted, and the bumper hangs on only with duct tape and hopes and dreams.
I guess maybe I expect the driver to stop. We’re in the intersection. We have the right of way. So my heart doesn’t completely register panic until the massive front grille crosses the solid white lines. Instantly, with my heart in my throat and the air caught in my lungs, I slam my foot on the gas to floor it out of the way as the truck barrels closer.
Kari hisses at my sudden speed. Her phone flies out of her hand and her eyes swing to me. The world moves in slow motion, her perfect, wild curls flying in the air, then it moves again as she follows my gaze and looks out the window on her right.
She releases a peeling scream.
But it’s too fucking late.
The world is moving slow, but the truck is defying the laws of speed. His bumper slams into Kari’s door, T-boning our car and sending us skidding across the intersection until we slam into another. A truck on either side, both larger, harder steel than our little sedan.
“Fuck!” My head raps against the side window, my vision blurring as we come to a sudden stop, the stench of burning rubber filling the car and Kari’s scream… silenced.
“Hello?” Jess’s frantic cry pulses throughout the car. “Luc!”
“Shit.” Stars float in my vision as the car continues to rock. As horns bleat and already, sirens squeal. “Kari?”
“Luc!” Jess shouts out from somewhere far away. The phone. Dropped. “Luc! Are you okay?”
I peel my eyes open and drag them to my right. My head throbs and my jaw aches. But I don’t know hurt until I find Kari, dazed and bleeding. Blinking and groaning. “Kari! Oh shit.” I startle in my seat and try to jump toward her, catching myself on my seatbelt and crying out in frustration. “Kari! Babe.”
“Luc?” Jess calls. “What the hell happened?”
“Call an ambulance!” I unsnap my seatbelt and lunge over the seats. “Kari! Wake up, baby. Wake up. ”
“The babies.” Her words are slurred, her face, covered in blood and nicks from glass I hadn’t even noticed shattered. “Luc, the babies?—”
“They’re okay. Just relax for a second and let me check you over.” I press my fingers to her neck, but my eyes go down. It’s an automatic response. I don’t even think about it. So when I catch bright red blood smeared over the seat and soaking through her pants, my heart fucking stops. “Oh no. Oh god. Oh no.” I shove out of the car and sprint around to Kari’s side, thankful the truck skidded off to the right and isn’t blocking her door. My head swims, and if not for holding on to my car, I might stumble too far to the right and miss my landing.
But I find her door, yanking the handle and opening it wide. People scream, somewhere far, far away. Others cry. Others, still, run out of shops and into the street with their hands to their mouths and tears in their eyes.
These are scenes I’ve witnessed a million times over the years. But never, in the history of ever, was I the one in the middle.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” I unsnap Kari’s seatbelt and catch her when she slumps. All of my training says not to move her. Spinal injuries could mean she never walks again. But leaving her inside the car, bleeding and barely responsive, typically fucking equals dead. “Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on.” Tears blur my vision and burn my eyes, but I hook my arms under hers and drag her out, damn near falling to my knees when I find not just blood stains on the seats. But a fucking puddle . “Don’t you dare leave me like this.”
Rage burns in my veins as I pull her out and still, people just fucking watch. The driver of the truck stumbles out of his cab. The driver of the other truck, the one we hit, tries to open his door. But he’s trapped inside, the steel crumpled on one side and folded against the traffic light pole on the other.
“Luc!” A familiar voice roars in my peripherals. A panicked gasp. Then Alex sprints to where I try to pull Kari out carefully. He instantly grabs her legs, his face pale as a ghost, but he’s a first responder too. He’s been to tragic situations a million times. “What the fuck happened?”
“Red truck hit us.” I gently place Kari on the road and look up, appreciative as a wad of towels slap my shoulder and land on the road. Katrina, a local waitress down at the diner, gulps as I bundle the fabric and place it under Kari’s head. Then I skid around to her other end and pull her shorts down. “I need something.” My stomach heaves. Anxiety swirls and makes me sick. My head thuds and still, my eyes blur as I desperately look to Alex .
Older. Protective. Authoritative.
“My…” My brain isn’t connecting. The neural pathways, broken. “Something.”
“What?” He grabs another towel and places it on the road beneath Kari’s backside. “What do you need?”
“First aid kit?” Why the fuck do I say it like a question ? “I think…”
“Luc!” Katrina pushes into our space and grabs my face. “She’s bleeding, Luc. Like, a lot.”
“Placental abruption?” Questions. So many fucking questions. “I think… maybe…”
“Which means you have to get them out.” She tears Kari’s underwear down and cries out at the blood already pooling on the ground. “Oh god, Luc. You have to get them out.”
“I can’t get them out! Dom is upside down.”
“You have to try!” She grabs my hands and holds them firm. “Maybe it’s not abruption. Maybe it’s just ruptured membranes.”
“They’re scheduled for theater.”
“They’re here right now!” she snarls. Shoving me around, she forces me to see them. My family. My whole fucking world. “Stop thinking this is Kari,” she orders. “It’s just work. Motor vehicle accident. Thirty-four-week pregnant female carrying twins. What do you do, Luc?”
“I get her to the hospital.” My hands shake. My entire soul quivers. “I minimize the bleeding and I get her into the bus.”
“No,” she commands. “Look! Push that blood aside, Luca, and you see a head. They’re ready to come out.”
“I need to stabilize the mother!”
“You need to stabilize all three of them. One is already in the birth canal, so what do you do?”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay.” I look to my left when Alex tosses a first aid kit at my leg, but then I glance at Kari. Because that isn’t gonna help shit all. “Dammit! Okay. If it’s abruption, we have five minutes to get them wired up.”
“Ambulance is on the way.” Alex goes to Kari’s head and drags the hair out of her face. “Two minutes out. So you’ve gotta handle it till then.”
“Are you awake, Bear?” I slide my fingers around the baby’s head, testing for the elasticity of Kari’s skin and knowing she’s about to be torn the fuck up. “Bear? Can you hear me?”
“I’m ‘ere,” she drones, sluggish and sleepy. “Hurts.”
“I know, babe. I know it hurts.” Tears ball in my eyes and drop from my cheeks. This whole fucking scene is dirty. Glass litters the road and dirt is already on her legs. On her thighs. “I’m gonna need your help to get the first one out, okay?”
“Tired.”
“I know, honey.” I shrug and swipe my cheek on my shoulder. “The accident has pushed you into pre-term labor, and I’m really worried you’re bleeding inside. I need you to help me get this one out. Then the bus is on the way to finish up.”
“Wonder if I’ll die,” she drawls. Curious. And completely… content. “Least I didn’t get shot in the belly, huh?”
“You’re not fucking dying.” I snatch up the first aid kid and tear the zippers open. This isn’t a hospital. There are no proper tools here. But I grab the scissors from the pack and bring them between her legs, shaking and sick with what I have to do. “This isn’t strictly by the book, Bear. And it’s gonna hurt. But I have to cut you.”
“S’okay.” She drops her head to the side. Sleeping. Yet, awake. Here, but not. “S’fine. My stomach hurts.”
“Don’t let her sleep,” I order Alex. Then to Katrina, “I need water. Like, bottled, spring water or something. We’ll need more towels. And probably find me some gloves or some shit.”
“I’ve got it.” She bounds to her feet and sprints away.
So I bring my focus back to Kari’s laboring stomach. She’s not here, but her body is doing the work anyway. Labor has begun, whether we’re ready for it or not. “Don’t go to sleep, Bear.”
“Hey?” Alex taps her cheek. “Wake up, sweet girl. You need to stay awake.”
“Can you push for me, Bear?” I snip her skin, heaving when the tiny cut turns to a third-degree tear when the baby’s head presses against it. “Fuck,” I groan, sick to my stomach at the thought of hurting her. “I’m so sorry, Kari. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Push,” Alex coaches. He reaches down and takes her hand in his. “Your baby is already crowning, Kar. Which means they probably can’t breathe right now. You gotta get it out.”
Kari’s eyes snap open in panic. “What?”
“You don’t tell the fucking patient their baby is dying!” I slip my fingers in beside the head, twisting and adjusting her angle to help her move easier with the contraction. “Your job is to keep her calm, dickhead. You don’t freak her out.”
“Is she okay?” Kari shoves, dizzily, to her elbows and turns green from the movement. “Luc? ”
“Just push, Bear. Lay down and push. Let Alex help you.”
Alex’s radio crackles to life. Ambulances are on the way. A minute out. Blah blah blah. All things I’ve heard countless times. But a minute is too long. Kari’s body is pushing, forcing the baby out, first her head, then down to her shoulders. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.”
“Get them out,” Kari cries. She yelps from pain when we get to the shoulders and her tear grows wider. Ah!” She screams. “Luc!”
“Nearly there, Bear. Hold on.” I slide my hand in and adjust Billy’s shoulders, inching one out, then the other, while a block away, ambulances scream around the corner, their tires skidding on the tar. “One more, okay?” I grit my teeth and hiss when I pop Billy’s shoulder free. “One more push, then the ambos are gonna be here with the good drugs. They’re gonna help us, Bear.”
“Hey. Whoa!” Alex catches Kari when she droops into his arms and her eyes slam closed. “Kari?” He taps her face and leans over to be all she could see—if only her eyes were open. “Kari!”
“What happened?” I guide Billy out. It’s easy after the shoulders, so I catch her in one hand and snag a towel with the other. But my heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the thump of my aching brain. “X! What happened?”
“She’s unconscious. I don’t…” He taps her face and presses his fingers to her neck. “Luc, I don’t know.”
“Is she breathing?” Panic lances through my blood, my words coming out louder. Frenzied. “Alex! Is she breathing?”
I look down at Billy, almost hurling, because her skin glows dark purple and her first, sweet screams are yet to come. “Oh Jesus.” I cry out and place the baby on the ground, then I open her towel and start resuscitation. “Breathe for her, X!” I carefully place my mouth over Billy’s lips and nostrils, exhaling a deep breath and watching her lungs fill.
“We’re here!” Other paramedics, the kind I don’t work a shift with, slam their doors open and go to work yanking a stretcher out. One grabs a kit, while the other sprints our way. “What’s happened?”
“MV accident.” Dizziness washes through my brain and turns my vision spotty. “Direct hit on her door. She’s thirty-four weeks. Reasonably healthy pregnancy. Twins. Twin A just arrived.” I lean in and repeat my actions, closing my lips around Billy’s and filling her lungs. “Twin B was breech at last scan. Twin B is failure to thrive in the womb, so already medically fragile.”
“Mother isn’t breathing,” Alex announces, shuffling out of the way when the second paramedic darts closer to help. “She dropped about twenty seconds ago.”
“Infant isn’t breathing,” I shout. “It’s been about forty-five seconds since delivery.”
“We have a thready pulse,” one of the paramedics announces of Kari. “It’s weak.”
“Significant blood loss inside and out of the car.” I snarl when the second paramedic steals Billy away and slaps a mask over her face. Already, her coloring is coming back. But still… I don’t hear her cries. I don’t see her little fists clenching. “Suspected placental abruption, but I’m not sure. I can’t…” I shake my head. “I dunno.”
“Let’s get them up and in the bus.” The duo help themselves to Kari, no concern for her body or possible spinal injuries. They load her up and pop the stretcher back to its full height, then they lay Billy, whose cord is still attached to her mother, in the gap between Kari’s hip and the bed rail.
Then they go.
Whisking my family away.
“Another ambo is on the way,” they shout back. It takes me a moment to realize they’re talking to Alex. The chief. “We’ll call a third and get everyone seen to. Mother and babies are priority right now.”
“I don’t…” I look down at my hands, smeared in blood. My knees, torn from the road. I spy the towels laid on the tar, smattered in dirt and crimson. Then I look at Alex, my body overtaken by violent tremors. “X…”
“It’s okay.” He pushes up to stand and yanks me up beside him, then he claps his hand to the back of my head and pulls me in until I break. Until I burst out with grief and attempt to turn, searching for my family when the EMTs slam the doors closed. “I’ll get you to the hospital,” he soothes, murmuring as the sirens come to life. “I’ll get you to them, I promise.”