Abruption (21 page)

“You don’t have to thank me. I love your kids to pieces and we’re family. Besides, can’t beat the Christmas bonus around here!”

Jules was spot on when she said I lucked out with Maya. Hopefully, Maya shared some genetics with Britt, and
hopefully,
my wife passed those down instead.

“Have a good night, My. Try and get some studying in while they’re quiet.” I ended the call.

My consult and rounding took an hour and then I was bellied up to the bar. My call started at six the next morning so I could have a few, but I couldn’t get plastered. Didn’t mean I didn’t want to. Between Jules and now Bryce, I’d had it with the fucking secrets. I hated being in the dark. And the “run something by you” comment wasn’t making me feel any better. I preferred our chats center around “hey, what car should I be looking at” or “who should I pick for March Madness?” This cryptic shit sucked.

“Guess I need to catch up, shouldn’t be a problem tonight.” He slapped me on the back and took the stool next to me. I was surprised he was here so soon.

“Beer?” I high signed the bartender.

“Need something stronger.” He dragged his hand up and through his hair, reminding me of myself. I’ve never seen him like this.

“Case finish up okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Recovery took him right away, which was nice.” The bartender tapped his finger on the bar a couple of times and gave him a nod. “Jack neat. Make it a double.”

“Shit,” I mumbled into the hollow of my beer. That order didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies. Guess the hoop brackets would have to wait.

“Coming right up,” the bartender said before heading back down the length of the bar.

“It’s Violet and the baby …” Bryce dove right in and I instantly had a sick feeling. “She had her routine screening two weeks ago, came back all lit up. Shit-ton of testing, genetic counseling, amnio, the whole nine—” The bartender set an amber glass in front of him, but Bryce just stared at it and mumbled with a venom laced tone, “Trisomy 13.”

I let out a strained breath that said everything.
Fuck
.

“Vi’s a mess. Fuck, I’m a mess. Ultrasounds, echos … you name an abnormality, baby’s got it. She can’t even talk about it, just cries every time she thinks we can’t hear her. Said she needs some time to think.”

“Fuck,” I said it this time. My beer suddenly tasted stale remembering what it was like to live through a complicated pregnancy. Or two. Watch the woman you love struggle with maintaining her independence, yet wanting what was best for the baby. Or so you thought. At least our situation had hope. My kids had a fighting chance.

“They offered termination. At best, a small percentage makes it to a year; most miscarry early or wind up stillborn if they make it to term. What kind of fucking odds are those?”

“Dude, I’ve got nothing, wish to God I had something,” I said because there was honestly not a single thing to say. He knew it as well as I did, but sometimes you need to say shit to make it real. He needed to talk; I was here to listen.

“Choice is ours, told us to make it sooner than later.” He drained his glass and raised his finger for another. “Doesn’t feel like a choice. Feels like they just handed the baby we want more than anything a death sentence. How am I going to explain this to my son? He thinks he’s getting a little brother ... yeah, we found out it’s another boy. Vi said she was working toward a basketball team.” Bryce closed his eyes and shuttered his shoulders, shaking off the memory, no doubt.

“Anything you need, man. Help with the little man? I’m sure Maya wouldn’t mind kicking in. I’ve got Jules, we’d figure it out.”

I’ve got Jules.
My stomach was on fire for Bryce and his wife, but somehow those three words helped soothe some of the sting.

“Thanks, man. But what I need is for this to be a sick joke … what I need is for my wife to talk to me. I have no fucking idea what’s going through her head. She has completely shut me out. How do I make this okay for her?”

I raked my own scalp. I was probably the worst person on the planet to give advice. “It’s a shock right now, she’ll come around. Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re not gonna make it okay for her, just like no one has the power to make it okay for you. You’ve got to brace, dude, remember you’re in this together, and you’ll come out of the other side. What you guys have is strong, the real deal. My wife never told me shit and I was too fucking naive in la-la land to notice.”
Did I say that aloud?

“Shit, I didn’t mean to stir up all this for you. I’m just … I don’t know. Fuck. All our family is out West, which isn’t helping. I had no one to talk to.”

He may have been spewing his shitstorm at me, but I gave him serious credit for not bottling it up. When Jules pressed me to open up, I was a coward and shut down. I sunk into her chest that night, buried myself in her heartbeat, and wished to forget.

I should have told her.

“Hey, don’t ever feel bad. I’m here. Know you have a handle on it, but if you need a second opinion, or think the wife could benefit from hearing it from different lips, I have a friend in Philly. She deals with all high-risk cases. She took care of Britt when she was pregnant with Max, as well as a good friend of mine from residency who suffered a crazy head injury. I trust her explicitly and I’m happy to make the call.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to waste her time. You and I both know where this is headed. Let me try and figure out where Vi’s head is first. Thanks again, man.” He slugged back his second double.

“Go home. Sleep this off. Start over in the morning.” Bryce pinched his forehead, hanging his head. I felt for the guy. This one hit close to home, and I needed to get the hell out of here as well. “You’ll figure it out. Take this weekend to spend time with your family. I got tomorrow covered.” I squeezed his shoulder and slapped some bills on the bar. “Shoot me a text if you want me to contact my friend.”

I walked through my apartment door with one thing on my mind. My kids. Tonight reminded me how fortunate I was. We might have been through hell as a family, but I’d take every second, relive all of it, over what Bryce was facing. I sat on the edge of Maxie’s bed and swiped her blond curls away from her face. I dipped down and kissed her sweet cheek. “Daddy loves you, peanut. You’re my world, don’t ever forget that.”

Next I found myself clearing a small library of Power Ranger board books from the edge of Finn’s bed. My boy looked peaceful, breathing easy, smelling like nature’s cure all. I smiled and dipped down to kiss his head. “Don’t you ever give up. I’ll fight by your side until I’ve got no fight left. I love you, bud. Sweet dreams.” I tucked the covers up around his shoulders and picked up his favorite stuffed animal from the floor.

Turning around, I saw Maya leaning against the jamb. “I didn’t hear you come in—I wasn’t expecting you home this early,” she whispered. I joined her in the hall, closing Finn’s door halfway.

“Long day. Was ready for it to be over.”

“They haven’t been asleep long. They were both wound up tonight.” As much as I would have loved to spend a little time with them, I was grateful they were asleep after the day I had. “There’s some leftover soup in the fridge.” Maya pointed and my stomach followed.

“Awesome. I’m starved.”

Maya turned toward the guestroom and asked, “Where’s Jules?”

“She had family stuff,” I answered. It was most likely the truth, and to be honest, I didn’t want to deal. It was a valid question since Jules had spent every Friday night with us since our first weekend together. She deemed it pizza night, and it had quickly become the girls’ favorite night of the week. Finn’s and mine too.

“Oh, I thought maybe she was working tonight.”

“Nope.”

“She knows your mom is coming to town, right?”

Enough. As much as I trusted that she was coming from a good place, I had enough of Maya’s
what’s up with you and Jules
inquisition. And the last thing I needed was her running back to my in-laws with updates on my social life. Bad enough the family connection prevented my life from being private. Jules was off limits.

“It’s all good, Maya. Jules will be here Sunday.” Shit. Speaking of Sunday brought focus to tomorrow. “Sorry. I hate to lay this on you last minute, know you need to study, but are you good all day tomorrow? I offered to stay and round tomorrow for a friend. If not, let me know, I’ll suck it up and call Darla to help out.”

“No need. I’m fine. Looking forward to spending the day with them.” Pheww. The less I had to ask my mother-in-law for anything, the better.

“Thanks,” I said sincerely.

I heated up the soup, made my way to the family room, and flipped on mindless TV. Too bad I couldn’t enjoy the mindless part, as my thoughts ricocheted around in my brain like a pinball game. Bouncing between my life four years ago, Bryce’s devastating situation, and Jules. But somehow the ball landed in the same hole every time.
I’ve got Jules
.

My emotions had been all over the map today, and suddenly, I felt like a dick (again) for being pissed off with her earlier. If I manned up, I would admit I was more jealous than anything else. I wondered when I got so needy. Probably right around the time I fell hard. A better man than me would be glad his woman was enjoying a carefree evening with her sisters. But I missed her. I wanted nothing more than for her to be cuddled up next to me with her arctic bare feet tucked under my ass, listening to me unload about Bryce’s nightmare. Knowing she’d somehow make it better. Pretty fucking selfish of me. Again.

A shrill noise pierced my eardrums, interrupting my pinball game before my next thought could fire. The hot soup spilled on my leg and I jumped up.
What the
… When I heard the high-pitched shriek again, instinct took over and I started sprinting.

The bedroom door was open. Maya was hunched over Finn’s bed, as his tiny body violently jerked and twisted in ways that should never be.

“Oh my God! What do we do? Oh my God,” she screamed, sliding to the floor, unable to control her sob. Bile slid up the back of my throat, and my eyes immediately burned watching my son’s body convulse.
Why the hell?

I blinked past the scalding pain and forced my eyes to focus.
Think. You need to goddamn think.
The line between father and doctor blurred. “Maya, please!” I nudged her out of the way and knelt beside the bed. The covers I had just tucked up under his chin were strewn about. Finn’s stiff muscles shook so brutally his bed frame slammed against the wall. I quickly rolled him to his side to secure his airway and adjusted the pillow to protect his head. His skin felt cool. Fuck. No fever. Febrile seizures were fairly common. Cause and effect. Everything else was … worse.

I knew the stats—they were ingrained in my brain from the time of diagnosis. Nearly half of children with cerebral palsy experienced seizures. Finn had been fortunate enough to fall into the other fifty percent. Until now. Nausea rolled over me, considering this could be the first of many. And if CP wasn’t the cause … my gut clamped and I snapped at myself, “Stop.”
Don’t go there.

Maya’s cries echoed louder, adding to the chaos. “Maya, calm down, give him a minute, he’ll come out of it.”
He has to.
I looked down at the second hand of my watch.

Thirty seconds.

Finn was still jerking

“Go call 9-1-1. Just in case. Now!” I ordered Maya without taking my eyes off my son. Quick mental math: medics could get here faster with some Ativan than I could get him to the ER.

Come on, Finn. Fight with me.

Sixty-five seconds.

My carotids pulsed so hard I felt my heartbeat hammering in my head. Time needed to stop dead. With each passing minute, risk of oxygen deprivation and lasting damage started to rise. Not an option. I cradled my shaking boy and waited. Two minutes twelve seconds. The contractions were less vigorous. Another ten seconds and all movement ceased.
Thank you, God
.

I sunk against the bed and buried my head against the side of Finn’s. His ragged breath bathed my cheek as his little heart pounded against my fingertips. I rubbed his back and called his name, “Finn. Daddy’s here—wake up, buddy. Open your eyes, Finny.” He coughed, trying to clear the extra saliva that had built up in his mouth. “Can you open your eyes for Daddy?” I moved to sit on the bed and repositioned his head onto my lap. Then I called out for Maya who I could hear on the phone in the living room. “Maya, cancel the ambulance!”

She was back in the doorway repeating my instructions into the phone. She tried her best, stumbling over words as she wiped her eyes. I motioned for the phone and took over. As soon I hung up, I handed it back to Maya. “Call the ER, tell them I want neuro waiting. Meg should be on tonight, if not, have them call her in.” I left no room for misinterpretation. She snapped into gear and pulled her shit together.

“Daddy,” Finn whimpered.

“Right here. I’m right here, buddy.”

His limp hand reached toward his pajama bottoms. My poor boy peed straight through. “It’s okay. You’re a little confused. Daddy’s here. Don’t worry about your pajamas, we’ll get you new ones.” He seemed alert enough to know he was wet which was a good sign, but like most postictal states, he was drowsy and lethargic.