26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Jackson
I don’t know how I manage to get to the hospital without getting into an accident. One moment, I was at home, brooding as I’ve been doing the past five days, and the next I was tripping out of my car into the hospital parking lot.
I didn’t answer Kayla’s first phone call. I didn’t want her nagging me for more information that I didn’t want to give about my relationship with Lily because I had just as many questions as her. But when she called again . . . I’m her big brother. Even if the likelihood of her annoying me on a phone call is higher than an emergency, I would never be able to live with myself if I missed the emergency.
And this time it was worse.
“I’m taking Lily to the hospital. Meet us there.”
It took me a moment to process what she was saying. “What? Why?”
Kayla didn’t clarify. “See you soon.”
At that moment, I knew she knew. It was the smallness of her voice, the response both insistent and delicate.
Lily. The baby.
I’ve been thinking about it nonstop since she left Banff. I wanted to go after her but hesitated too long. When I finally got the nerve to call her, my phone went to voicemail again and again, and my texts weren’t going through.
Time. I thought I’d give her time. To cool off and allow me to explain myself again, give her the reaction she deserved to news like that. I was giving her time to need me again the way I needed her. And then, when the door was open again, I could explain myself. Apologize. Recommit myself to her and our child.
I thought we had time .
But now I don’t know.
If the universe is punishing me, why does it have to punish Lily too? Fine, take her away from me, keep my unborn child at arm’s length. I’d deserve it. But don’t punish her too. Please, God , don’t punish her too.
The ER receptionist seems to know who I am before I say anything, gesturing for me to go back through the doors. Maybe she can tell by the strained look on my face or the desperate speed at which I’m moving, seemingly not in control of my limbs or how my body moves through space. I don’t care how I look or what people might think. I need to get to Lily.
I rush down the hall, past a few doctors walking way too slowly to be working in the Emergency Room and a few worried family members until I see Kayla pacing outside a room.
“Kay,” I try to call out to her, but my voice is all jagged rough edges.
When Kayla sees me, she runs to meet me. We catch each other by the arms.
“What’s wrong? Is Lily alright? What happened?” the questions pour out of me without waiting for an answer.
“She’s okay; she’s not in any pain. A doctor’s already been by to see her,” Kayla explains.
I search my sister’s face as if there might be more to her answer in the downturn of her lips or solemn eyes.
“She started bleeding, Jackson.”
I swallow. “She told you about . . . ”
Kayla nods. “She might be losing it.”
The upheaval of terror in my gut surprises me. I worry a hand across my face, scraping my unkempt beard in the process. “Fuck. Fuck me. Why didn’t I . . . ” I make my hand into a fist and press it to my forehead.
“I don’t know what you did or said to her, but you have to fix this.”
“I know I do,” I say, squeezing my eyes tight. “But if I hadn’t—if I just had—” My breath is coming hard and fast. “This wouldn’t have happened if I had just . . . ”
“Don’t talk like that,” Kayla says, grabbing my arms tighter. “This wasn’t in anyone’s control, okay?”
“What if the stress—“ I try to swallow again, but my jaw is so tight it hurts. “What if I caused it? Why didn’t I just go see her and—”
Kayla wraps her hands around my face. “Jackson, look at me.”
My body bristles at being forced to look into my sister’s eyes, but they meet hers, nevertheless. Trembling blue reflecting trembling blue.
“Life,” she says, the word breaking in half due to the intensity of her feelings. “It happens. You can let it crush you. Or you can keep trying. And showing up.”
My chest tightens.
“Don’t be like Mom, okay? Don’t let it crush you.”
I look up to the fluorescent light above us to will myself not to cry. Mom let life crush her. How hard it was after our father left her to make ends meet. How she looked for release in the wrong places. Lost herself. And lost us in the process. Thank God for our grandfather, because otherwise . . .
“She needs you, Jackson. Okay? She might not say it, but she does.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Kayla takes me by the hand and leads me to the door of Lily’s hospital room. She places my hand on the doorknob because I don’t have the strength, but when I feel that cool metal, I am infused with the strength I need to step up the way I should have days ago.
The room is big and gray. And Lily, sitting at the end of an examination table in a hospital gown, her legs dangling over the side and her hair pulled up on top of her head, looks so small.
I push the door closed behind me, the latching so loud compared to the silent room.
Lily’s face is red and wet from tears already shed. We look at each other. I have so many things I’d like to say. But do I start with apologies or questions?
However, Lily beats me to the punch. “I need you to hold me,” she whispers.
The words infuse every cell in my body to act. I launch myself toward her and wrap her up in my arms, her small form perfectly pressed to my chest. Lily slides her arms under my coat so she’s cocooned into me.
“I don’t know what happened,” she sobs. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just started bleeding and—”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”
She grabs me tighter.
I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to lose it, Jackson,” she says which seems like a non sequitur, but is a perfect answer to me.
“I don’t want that either, baby; I don’t.”
Lily lifts her head and looks into my eyes.
“I should have told you that when you told me, but I was . . . ” I shake my head. “I was scared. And I should have pushed past that to tell you that having a baby is just everything to me, Lil.”
She smiles. “Really?”
“Really. I promise. I want it all with you.”
Lily’s smile grows sad.
“I called off the deal,” I tell her. Which is true. Danforth wasn’t happy about it after all the time we had spent crafting the business plans in the remaining time I spent in Banff. But I knew I couldn’t come back to Cider Bay and have the deal and Lily. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“But we might not even have . . . ” Her words catch in her throat.
“That doesn’t matter.” A baby was definitely part of the decision. I wasn’t going to pull Lily away from Cider Bay, and I certainly wasn’t going to be away from her if we were going to become parents. But that wasn’t all. “It’s time for your dreams, Lily. I had mine. I forgot you hadn’t had yours, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I tried to push you to the backburner. I never should have done that, but I was scared you were icing me out and . . . ”
Lily blinks and some tears rush down her cheeks.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Lily pulls me close and kisses me. I’ve missed her lips. Missed that knowing feeling. That she’s mine.
“We’re going to be okay. Whatever happens,” I say, both as a promise and, hopefully, a persuasion. I tip my finger under her chin.
“Okay,” she says with a vehement nod.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Lily calls out eagerly.
Our eyes meet briefly before I step to the side of the examination table. Promising. We will be okay .
I hope we can both fulfill our end of the bargain, whatever happens.
The doctor is a kind-faced older woman with frizzy silver hair. “Lily?”
“Yeah,” is all Lily manages.
“I’m Dr. Hannon,” the doctor introduces herself. Her clipboard is pressed into her chest. It taunts me. “You’re the father?” she asks me.
Hearing her say that aloud makes me want it even more. “Yes. Yeah, I am.”
Dr. Hannon gestures toward a chair along the wall. “Please.”
I’m confused at first but realize she’s asking me to sit. Maybe she can tell my legs are about to give out. I grab the chair and pull it as close to the table as I can get. As I settle in, I take Lily’s hand in both of mine and squeeze tight. She gives me a fleeting smile.
Dr. Hannon goes to a machine in the corner and starts pressing buttons. “I’m sure this has given you two quite a scare. It’s good you came in.”
Lily grabs my hand tighter.
Once Dr. Hannon is done clicking on the machine, she rolls it closer to the table. “Your urinalysis came back with high hCG levels. Higher than average, actually. That could be good news but might be a sign your body hasn’t yet caught up with a miscarriage.”
The word hangs in the air like poison gas.
“The amount you’re bleeding is concerning but doesn’t necessarily point to a miscarriage, even if it’s unusual,” the doctor explains. “I’m going to do an ultrasound, see if we can pick up on baby’s heartbeat and that will give us a clearer idea of how to proceed.”
I almost feel outside my body as Dr. Hannon prepares Lily for an ultrasound, mostly because I’ve only ever seen this on television. They always make jokes about how cold the gel is or the couple banters about if it’s a boy or a girl. All we want to know right now is if it’s a baby at all.
However, with Lily laid back on the table, her gown pulled up and a thin paper sheet over the lower half of her body to reveal just her midriff, it feels nothing like a movie. It’s so much more. So much bigger.
“Alright, let’s see what we can see, hm?” Dr. Hannon says with a smile and a waggle of her eyebrows before focusing in on the screen very purposefully faced away from us.
Lily looks at me, her hazel eyes wide with fear. I’m feeling it too, but I have to be strong for her. For us. I take her hand and lift it to my mouth, kissing it gingerly. But I do not put it back down. I keep it there as my own totem of comfort.
She smiles. “Love you,” she mouths.
Still? After everything. “I love you too,” I mouth back. If I were to say it aloud, I might start to cry.
Dr. Hannon uses the wand across Lily’s stomach which looks no different than it always has, and yet I hope upon hope it will change in the near future. The seconds feel like centuries as she positions the wand in the right place.
“Ah!” Dr. Hannon exclaims. Her smile hasn’t faded so I guess that’s a good thing, but I can’t say her surprise feels good. “Lots of information here. Do you want the good, the bad, or great news first?”
Lily breathes out. “That’s a lot of news.”
“Good, bad, great,” I answer for her, and she smiles gratefully.
Dr. Hannon chuckles and turns the screen. It’s all grey and gritty, and, while there are shapes, it’s all blobby. She points to a few pixels that are pulsing. “Good news. The baby’s fine. Heartbeat looks good and fast as it should be. Looks to be on track for seven weeks. We’ll get sound on that in a second.”
I sigh in relief as does Lily.
“Bad news, although I guess you could say it’s good, is the bleeding is coming from a sub-chronic hematoma. You can see it right here—” She points to a hollow gap connected to the orb around our tiny blobby baby. “Basically, you’re hemorrhaging. It’s unusual, but not unheard of.”
Lily raises herself onto her elbows. “And that doesn’t affect the baby? Everything’s fine?”
“Should clear up in a week or two. But that means you need to rest.” Dr. Hannon eyes me. “Keep her off her feet if you can, Dad.”
Lily pulls on my hand, beaming ear to ear. The smile tugs at my heartstrings. There’s no questions about it now. “And the great news,” she says eagerly. “What’s the great news?”
“Well, you see there’s another sac right here,” Dr. Hannon moves her wand and another bubble appears next to our baby’s bubble. “It’s small, but it’s there.”
Lily and I are quiet.
“And right there . . . ” She points to another little thrumming heartbeat. “It’s twins. Accounts for your elevated hCG levels and . . . ”
“Twins?” Lily asks. “Like t-two?”
“Exactly two,” Dr. Hannon says with a chuckle.
I cover my mouth and start to laugh as well. It’s the shock. We’ve gone from worrying we’re losing one baby to having two.
Maybe the universe is on my side.
Lily’s pale as a ghost. “What are we going to do?”
I smooth my hand over her forehead, my eyes flooding with tears. “We’re going to be just fine, Lil. I promise. I’m going to be right here.”
“Here, let’s . . . ” She turns up a dial on her control panel and the grainy sound of a heartbeat emerges from the machine. My own heart lodges in my throat.
“If you listen close, you can hear the echo of the second heart. Listen.”
It takes a few seconds, but I hear it, each beat followed by a distant matching one. Two babies.
Tears spill down Lily’s face again, but this time, there is no sense of fear. Just joy. She touches my cheek and smiles.
And suddenly, things aren’t moving too fast.
Everything is just right.