Hello, it's me

I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet

To go over everything

They say that time's supposed to heal ya

But I ain't done much healing

~Adele, Hello

"Talk to her when you go in there," Katie said to me as we walked down the hall towards the intensive care unit at Lutheran Hospital that afternoon. "Be positive. People who have been in comas have often reported being able to hear people talking while they were unconscious."

I nodded to show that I had heard her. I kept trying to remind myself that Stephanie was going to be hooked up to machines, unconscious, looking like she had been through hell, but every time I tried to imagine her, it had been much less grim.

"The orthopedic surgeon is here today. I didn't get to talk to him yesterday, so I'm going to follow up. I'll be in after I'm done," Katie said as she headed towards the nurses station. "She's in room 6108."

I continued down the corridor, passing rooms with sliding glass doors. Some rooms had curtains pulled around the beds for privacy while others were visible to anyone walking past. Several people were on ventilators, nearly all were asleep or unconscious. The nurses station was positioned in the center of the unit with nurses sitting in front of computers at every angle. Stephanie's room was at the back of the unit. A large African-American woman who resembled Lula so much she could have been a sister was sitting at a computer directly across from Stephanie's room. She looked up as I stopped.

"Can I help you?" she demanded. There was no question about it. I was to report on my activities.

"I'm here to see Stephanie Plum," I said, indicating her room. "How is she doing?"

"And who are you?" the woman asked with such attitude that I would have laughed had it not been such a serious situation.

"Carlos Manoso," I replied. "Her power-of-attorney, Katherine Johnson, said I'm on the release of information so that I can get updates on her status."

The woman typed something on the computer and read for a minute. "Thank you," she said, the attitude softening slightly. "I'm Charlene, her nurse. She has been doing well. Her vitals have been stable and she hasn't shown any sign of infection. How do you know her?"

"We were in a relationship a few years ago. And we have a daughter together."

"I heard her little girl was with her in the accident. How is she?"

"Fine. A broken arm and a mild concussion, though you'd never know it by the way she runs around," I said. I hadn't had the nerve to look over at Stephanie yet. I could see her bed in my peripheral vision, but couldn't make out details. I reached into my pocket and checked my phone, but there were no messages to check.

Charlene gave me a rueful smile. "You're stalling."

Nurses didn't pull punches, especially the ones in the more critical areas of the field. Charlene clearly took no one's shit, but also seemed like someone who had held devastated family members like they were her own children.

"Yeah, I am."

Charlene walked around the counter and came towards me. She put an arm on my back and guided me towards the door. "Go talk to her. Tell her you're here, that her baby is fine, and that she will get through this." She pulled the door open and stood aside as I was forced to look at Stephanie for the first time.

It didn't seem like so many tubes should be able to fit in her body. The tube in her mouth was breathing for her; IVs in both arms lead to multiple bags that hung from metal rods on poles and a catheter bag collected urine at the foot of the bed. A heart monitor beeped and the ventilator whooshed every few seconds. There was a large white bandage on the right side of her head and her brown curls were contained in a braid that someone had laid on her right shoulder. Her eyes were closed, both swollen and bruised, as was most of her face. She was almost unrecognizable.

"The swelling and bruising will go down," Charlene said quietly. "She had some minor fractures in her nose and cheekbones, but nothing that won't heal on its own. Go on."

I hadn't realized I was still standing in the hallway, but did as I was told and walked into the room. Charlene quietly shut the door behind me. It felt like everything inside me had tensed up as I crossed the threshold, and I could barely breathe. My body felt heavy, and I wasn't sure if I was moving as slowly as it seemed to me. I finally reached the right side of her bed and looked down at her. She was slightly heavier than when I'd seen the last time, though not by much. Maybe fifteen pounds, probably weight she hadn't lost after pregnancy. I tried to imagine what she had looked like pregnant. I vaguely wondered if there were pictures. Anything that could distract me from what she looked like currently. Her hands rested on either side of her body, both bruised and scraped. I wanted to hold her hand, but didn't want to cause her any pain. I had to remind myself that she had undergone extensive surgeries yesterday for various broken bones, damage to internal organs, and a head injury, and that she was deeply unconscious. It was unlikely she would feel my touch, let alone be hurt by it. I took her hand in mine and held it. She felt slightly cold. Not like she was dead, but like she had been outside on a crisp fall day without gloves. I rubbed my thumb along the back of her hand, trying to find my voice.

"Hey," I said, emotion straining to come out of me in enormous gasps. I cleared my throat before I continued. "I'm here to take care of Stella. Katie called me, like you'd ask her to if something like this happened. Stella's fine. She misses you, but she's healthy and safe. My mother is with her right now. Katie and I came to see you before your parents get here, which should be anytime. They got divorced. I doubt you know that."

I waited, as though Stephanie were going to suddenly open her eyes at the shocking news, but nothing happened. I knew my private time with her was short and I didn't want to talk to her in front of anyone else.

"You are strong, Stephanie. You're brave and you're resilient. Not to mention stubborn as hell. You will get through this. I don't want you to worry about Stella; I'm not going anywhere. I'm here as long as you two need me. You need to save your energy for getting stronger. She needs you, babe. So do I." My vision started to blur slightly and I took a deep breath. "I love you. I never stopped."

I held onto her hand for another minute while I watched her, willing her to get better. Wishing I could take her place. I heard the door slide open behind me and turned to see Katie standing in the doorway.

"Her parents are here," she said quietly.

I gave Stephanie's hand a gentle squeeze and followed Katie back down the hall towards the waiting room.

I could hear Frank and Helen Plum before I could see them. They were attempting to have a restrained argument, but I could tell they were on the verge of raising their voices. When we got into the room, I barely recognized Stephanie's parents from the last time I'd seen either of them. Frank had lost about forty pounds and was very tan. He was dressed in trousers and a white button-up shirt that looked slightly crumpled. He wore glasses that looked good on him, and even with his youngest daughter lying comatose down the hall and his ex-wife five feet away he managed to look happier than I'd ever seen him. I assumed the woman standing next to him was the girlfriend, Cynthia. She was probably in her mid-forties, thin, with hair bleached blonde by the sun and tanned skin. She was decent in the looks department – not at all ugly, but not what men her own age or younger would consider especially attractive. Helen had also lost weight and was dressed like someone who had only packed a wardrobe for a warmer climate. She had on cropped white pants, blue boat shoes, and a matching short-sleeved shirt. She was also very tan and her hair looked like it had been colored to hide the gray. I recognized the man standing next to her, though I hadn't realized the connection when Tank had told his name on the phone the previous day. Paul Giancarlo was a used car salesman in Trenton. I recognized him from his television commercials and billboards. He definitely looked the part of a sleazy salesman– blindingly white teeth, tanned skin, perfectly combed and dyed hair. He was also wearing boat shoes, khaki trousers, and a Hawaiian shirt.

"What's the problem?" I asked, loud enough to get everyone's attention without attracting scolding from the nurses.

"I told him he isn't taking her into see Stephanie," Helen said, jerking her head in Cynthia's direction. "She hasn't ever met Stephanie."

"And I don't care if he has met her," Frank responded, jerking his head in a similar fashion towards Paul. "I don't want her taking the guy she left me for into see our daughter."

I didn't even try to hide my surprise. Not only that Helen had left Frank for Paul, but because they were arguing over this petty shit. Helen looked as though she was torn between being indignant and embarrassed, but didn't say anything.

"You two should just go in together," I said, indicating the Plums. "The hospital isn't going to want more people visiting than necessary."

"I'm not going in there with him," Helen said, crossing her arms over her chest. I bit the inside of my cheek in frustration. It was no wonder Stephanie hadn't spoken to these people in five years.

"You two are her parents. We called you so you could be here to be supportive of her and to see Stella," I said, feeling as though I were trying to explain something complicated to a child. "But if you can't be supportive, then you can both go home. You aren't needed for decision-making. Katie is her power-of-attorney."

"But we're her family," Helen said indignantly, looking to Frank to back her up. "It's our decisions that matter."

"Not legally," Katie replied. "If an unmarried person names a power-of-attorney, that person has the decision-marking powers over anyone else. Otherwise, it would be your decision. And I also control if you see her. So if you're going to be pains in my ass, then you can go home without seeing her. You can go see her together, or individually, but you aren't taking your partners with you. She's at increased risk for infection due to being less than twenty-four hours' post-op and because she no longer has a spleen. So what is it going to be?"

I loved nurses, and fought a smile at Katie's no-nonsense approach to the Plums. Helen's head looked like it might explode. Frank's eyebrows had raised, but it seemed like he was impressed by her fortitude. After several heartbeats, Frank headed towards the door.

"Are you coming, Helen?" he asked over his shoulder. "What room?"

"6108," I told him. Helen stood still for another second before following her ex-husband down the hall.

Katie, Paul, Cynthia, and I stood in awkward silence for a minute before Cynthia went over the counter that was along one wall and began preparing herself a cup of coffee. I caught Paul checking out her ass and cleared my throat. He startled and settled into a chair, looking everywhere else but at me or Cynthia's ass. I nodded towards the hallway and Katie followed me out.

"Fuck, are they always like this?" Katie asked, exasperation evident now that she didn't have to face anyone else.

"Somewhat. I haven't seen them in a few years. Helen was always a bit of a nag. Frank was generally pretty stoic and didn't say much. Stephanie would have preferred her Grandma Mazur be here instead of them, but Edna died two years ago."

"Yeah, she knew about that," Katie said. "She would check the Trenton paper once a week to see what was going on back home. She was really upset when she saw that her grandmother had died. She could have made it home for the funeral, but figured there would be too many questions and things she wasn't ready to explain." She gave me a scrutinizing look. "How are you doing? I know it's hard to see her like that."

I shrugged. "Yeah, it is." I knew she wanted more, but I had met her only twelve hours ago. Even though it felt like we'd been fighting in a battle together for days. We lingered in the hall, not speaking, until Helen and Frank reappeared. I could see them walking down the hall together, Helen dabbing at her eyes and Frank's arm around her shoulders. He looked dazed. When they saw Katie and me in the hall, they stepped away from one another and Frank's arm vanished from Helen's shoulders.

"I want to see Stella," Helen said to me once they had reached us. I nodded.

"You can follow us to Stephanie's house," I replied. "My mother is there with her."

No one spoke as we all rode the elevators down to the lobby and walked out to the parking lot. Katie and I climbed into my Cayenne and I waited by the exit to the lot for each couple's car to get in line behind me. When we pulled into Stephanie's driveway ten-minutes later, I parked my car in her garage. Katie had found an extra opener for the garage and had given it to me before we left for the hospital.

Stella and my mother were inside reading a book on the sofa when we walked into the living room. Katie went to the front door and opened it to let Helen, Paul, Frank, and Cynthia inside.

"Your Grandma and Grandpa Plum are here to see you," I told Stella. I wasn't sure how much reference Stephanie had made to them, but Stella's eyes had gone wide at the mention of their names. She climbed off my mother's lap and ran to her room. I assumed she hadn't wanted to see them and was about to follow her when she came running out with a small book in hand. She sat down on the floor and opened it. I could see it was a small photo album and the first picture was of Stephanie and me. She flipped the page over and on the other side was a picture of Katie, followed by a picture of Helen and Frank.

"Grandma and Grandma Plum," she said proudly, pointing to the pictures.

She got up and showed them their picture in her book. "See? Like in my night-night book."

Helen had tears pouring down her cheeks as she bent down to talk to Stella. "You look so much like your mommy," she said, touching Stella's hair. Frank looked speechless, like he still didn't have words after seeing Stephanie in the hospital. He sat down on the loveseat and Cynthia took a seat next to him. Stella eyed both Cynthia and Paul with suspicion.

"This is my friend, Paul," Helen said, touching Paul's arm as she stood up. "He came with me to see you."

Stella flipped through the rest of her book, but didn't find a picture of Paul. "Who are you?" she asked Cynthia.

"I'm your Grandpa's friend, Cynthia," she said brightly. Stella didn't have to look through her book to be sure Cynthia wasn't in there. She walked over to Katie and indicated that she wanted held. Katie picked her up and walked over towards Helen.

"It's okay," Katie said quietly. "They came to visit you. Isn't that nice?"

Stella didn't say anything, but kept eyeing Paul and Cynthia. It seemed as though she didn't trust anyone who wasn't in her little book. Helen and Paul took seats next to my mother on the sofa and I leaned against the wall next to the loveseat. Katie sat with Stella in the recliner.

"How's your arm, sweetheart?" Helen asked Stella. She had chosen purple for the color on her cast.

"It got broke," she said, lifting up the arm with some difficulty. "I got a purple band-aid."

"Cast," Katie corrected her. "And it has to stay on for a few weeks."

Boston the kitten came into the room looking for attention. Stella wiggled out of Katie's lap and struggled to pick up the kitten due to the awkwardness of her left arm.

"See my kitty?" she asked Helen. I remembered Stephanie telling me that her mother was allergic to cats, so it wasn't surprising when Helen backed up slightly as Stella put the cat on her lap.

"Isn't that sweet?" she said through a gritted smile. She seemed to be holding her breath.

Stella took the kitten over to Frank for his inspection. He stroked the cat's back for a minute and stared at Stella but didn't say anything. Cynthia tried to pet the cat, but Stella picked it up and put it back on the floor before she could touch it. The kitten meowed and headed in my direction. It stared up at me and tried to climb my pant leg. I picked it up and put it in the little cat bed in the corner of the room.

Stella eventually got bored and left the room, meaning that all conversation, which had been directed towards her, stopped. No one seemed to know what to say.

"If you don't need me right now, I have some things I need to do," Katie said. "I'll come back over tonight to show you Stella's bedtime routine."

I nodded and she left as quickly as was possible without actually running for the door. Helen had stared down the hall after Stella, who was now talking to herself in her bedroom.

"Why did she do this?" she asked the room. "Why would she keep her from us?"

My mother and I looked at each other, but neither of us spoke. It wasn't clear if Helen's question was meant to be answered.

"I blame you," Helen said, looking at me when no one offered an answer. "You ruined everything, and then she left town and no one knew where she was."

I raised an eyebrow. "How is it my fault when I didn't even know about Stella until twenty-four hours ago?"

"She broke off her engagement to Joseph two weeks before the wedding because of you!" Helen snapped, standing up as she spoke. It was as though some invisible restraints holding her down had been broken. "You convinced her to leave him to be with you, then you didn't want to marry her. You just wanted someone to be in your bed when you had an itch to scratch."

I shook my head. "I never asked Stephanie to leave Morelli. She made that choice on her own. And what happened in our relationship is between us."

"She felt like she had to leave town because she was ashamed of herself for falling for you!" Helen yelled, all attempts at calm gone. "She threw away what could have been a wonderful life with Joseph. She could have had his children and been at home, but instead she ran off with you, then you broke her heart and she ran away from all of us! Now she's in the hospital, we didn't even know she had a child, and she may never be able to take care of herself again." Tears poured down her cheeks once more.

"You stopped speaking to her after she told you she wasn't going to marry Morelli," I replied, my voice slow and calm. "You told her she was a disappointment and asked why you had ended up with her for a daughter. Do you remember saying that to her?"

Helen wiped her cheeks and looked at the floor. "I regret saying that."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I tried! She wouldn't take my calls," Helen said, having the nerve to look affronted.

"Because she was afraid you were just going to lecture her more, and because you had hurt her too much already," I said. "She decided it wasn't worth the pain to keep in contact with you."

"And what about you?" Helen asked indignantly. "She didn't think the pain of being in contact with you was worth even telling you that you had a child!"

"Maybe," I said. "But she had planned to tell me about her after Christmas. Katie told me that this morning. And she had provisions in place in case something happened to her to ensure that I would be told."

"I don't know why she would even bother," Helen said, looking at me as though I were something nasty on the bottom of her shoe. "You don't even take care of the other child you have. You leave her to raise by someone else, right? She lives in a different state. Some father you are."

"That's enough," my mother snapped. "I've sat here quietly and let you tear him down, but I will not sit here and let you criticize the decision he made for his own child that you know nothing about. He made sure she had a father that would love her and take care of her when he couldn't. The only reason he hasn't been here for Stella the past three years has been because your daughter didn't even tell him she existed."

I couldn't remember a time when my mother had defended me to anyone when she disagreed with something I had done. If we were with family, she would take the other person's side, trying to explain to me how they felt as though I were incapable of understanding and that I had been wrong, even if the other person had caused the conflict. If it were a situation involving non-family members, she would simply keep quiet. She couldn't be seen as being against me to outsiders, but she wasn't going to stand up for me if she thought I was in the wrong. When I had called to tell her that Ron was going to adopt Julie, she had been so angry she refused to speak to me for the next six months. But here she was, thirteen years later, defending that decision to someone she had just met.

Helen opened her mouth to speak, but sound of Stella crying startled all of us. None of us had seen her standing in the hallway. She looked terrified. She wasn't used to people yelling.

"I'm sorry, mija," my mother said, rushing over to scoop Stella up. "Why don't we go to your room and listen to music on my phone. Do you like Gloria Estefan?"

No one spoke again until we heard the door shut to Stella's bedroom. "I'm going to tell you the same thing Katie told you at the hospital," I said to the room. "If you're going to be a pain in the ass, then you won't be allowed to see Stella. I'm not going to let you come in here and scare her. She has been through enough," I said.

Frank stood up so quickly I thought he was going to attack me. "I'm not going to be kept from seeing my granddaughter because you're going to be a bitch, Helen," he said quietly. "You have no room to criticize anyone. I caught you sneaking around with this bozo –," he indicated Paul on the sofa. " –and instead of admitting that you were wrong for having an affair, you acted like I was the bad guy and walked out on a forty-year marriage because you thought I was boring. And then you act like I'm the bad guy again when I find someone who makes me happy, just because she's younger than me. You refused to talk to Stephanie after she broke up with the Morelli boy because you thought the Burg was judging us for her decisions. Now she is lying in that hospital, hooked up to machines –," Frank's voice broke slightly and he cleared his throat before continuing. "She needs us. It doesn't matter what she did or didn't do. We can take turns staying at the hospital. Do you want to go up there now, or take over later?"

No one seemed to know how to respond to this Frank. That had been about twelve times more speech than I had ever heard come out of his mouth at one time. I wasn't even sure if Helen had ever heard him speak this much, and with so much conviction.

"You're right," she replied solemnly. She turned to me. "I'm sorry. This isn't the time or place to be having these discussions, and you're right that what happened between you and Stephanie is none of my business. We're all here now, and the best thing we can do is help support her and Stella." I wasn't sure how much she believed what she was saying, but she was certainly saying it because she felt it was necessary. She looked at Frank, though I couldn't read her expression. "I'll take the rest of the day. I know you've been driving for a while. You should get some rest. I'll drop Paul off to check into our hotel and go straight to the hospital."

Paul looked like he wanted to protest, but was shut down with a look from Helen. The four of them filed out and were pulling out of the driveway a minute later. I closed the door behind them and leaned against it. Jesus Christ, those people could drive you to drink.

I walked over to the recliner and sat down, feeling as though I had been dealing with this situation for months rather than a day. I picked up the photo album Stella had left on the table and flipped it open. The picture on the first page had been of Stephanie and me at Connie Rosolli's wedding. I was wearing a suit and Stephanie was in a silver bridesmaid dress. We looked like a happy couple, and we had been happy that night. So happy that we hadn't been able to make it back to my apartment and had pulled into the alley behind the bond's office to have sex. We hadn't used a condom, and it hit me for the first time that Stella had very likely been conceived that night. Stephanie had left two weeks later and had turned up in the emergency room with morning sickness a week after that. The next picture was of Katie, who was sitting on a wooden swing with a baby Stella in her arms. Following that was a picture of Helen and Frank, sitting together on the sofa in their former home. I was surprised to find a picture of my own parents on the next page. It had been taken at their house on Christmas Eve. Stephanie and I had gone there for dinner and my father had caught my mother under the mistletoe. Stephanie had taken the picture after they had parted from their kiss, when they were still holding each other and both were laughing. The next picture of was Valerie, Albert, and their four kids at what looked like one of the kids' birthday party. The last picture in the book was of the cat.

I had vaguely wondered why Stella was so receptive to my mother and me when she had never met us, but now I knew why. She had looked at our pictures every night before she went to sleep. She had called it her night-night book. Katie's notes on her nighttime routine had indicated that she read a story, then looked at the night-night book before going to sleep.

There was a quick knock on the door before it opened and Katie came inside. "I saw they're gone," she said. "How did it go?"

"From bad to worse," I replied. I held up the book in my hand. "How long has she been looking at these pictures?"

"Since she was about eighteen months old," Katie said. "She would lay in bed at night and not want to fall asleep, so Steph made her a photo album of the people who love her for her to look at until she got tired. Stella started calling it the night-night book when she was about two and the name stuck. She always looks at it before bed." She plopped down on the sofa and watched me for a minute. "That book pisses you off, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I'm pissed off. I can't remember the last time I've been this angry. Or scared. And I still love her and miss her in spite of it all," I said, opening the book up to the page with Stephanie and me. "We've always known how screwed up we both are. Clearly things haven't changed."

Katie shrugged. "Love's complicated. That's how I always knew she was still in love you. If she hadn't been, she would have told you about Stella. God knows the financial responsibility was stressful enough. Kids are expensive. Healthcare and daycare and constantly buying clothes and toys because they grow out of things so fast." She sighed heavily.

"I got married a week after I graduated from college. I was twenty-two, and thought it was what was expected of me. I loved my husband. He was a nice guy– an accountant for a tech company, a Republican, a good Catholic. Everything my parents dreamed of for me. And what I thought would make me happy. But there had always been something niggling at the back of my mind, that something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It bothered me until I figured it out one day– that I was attracted to women as well as men. I was so relieved to figure it out that I ran home and told Christopher without even considering that he might not feel as good as I did," Katie said with a small laugh. Her expression sobered quickly. "When I told him he looked at me like I was the scum of the earth. Said I was an abomination of God, and that I had better go to confession right away to repent for my sins and to ask God to help me fight these feelings. I told him I didn't regret how I felt. He told me that if I didn't go to confession and repent that he would leave me, that the Church would allow a divorce in this case. I refused, and he left. He divorced me, made sure my name was mud, and I lost nearly all of my friends. The most fucked up thing of all was that I still loved him for a couple of years after that. Even after everything he had said and done, because I hadn't meant that I didn't want to be married to him. I did. I just wanted him to love me for who I was," Katie said quietly. "Stephanie said that no matter what had happened, she knew you had loved her for who she was. You didn't expect her to be anything other than herself. She has been like a sister to me these last four years. We've told each other a lot. I don't judge the two of you for having a complicated relationship, even though I do think Stephanie was in the wrong for keeping Stella from you."

I took a moment to set aside my anger so that I could be grateful that Stephanie had a friend like Katie. I had a feeling Stephanie likely felt the same way about Katie as I did about Tank.

The faint sound of Gloria Estefan came from the direction of Stella's room and my mother appeared in the living room seconds later.

"Are they coming back?" she asked. I shook my head. "Not tonight. Helen and Frank are taking shifts at the hospital." My mother made the sign of the cross and heaved a sigh of relief.

"I know they're scared and probably feeling guilty because of how things had been left in their relationship with her, but her mother is ridiculous. And that boyfriend seems sleazy."

My instinct was to point out her own hypocrisy, but remembering how she had defended me to Helen kept my mouth shut. "He's a used car salesman," I replied. "Sleaze is a job requirement."

Katie spent the rest of the evening showing me Stella's night time routine. Dinner went by fine, but bath time resulted in tears because Stella kept wanting to put her casted arm in the water. Katie had wrapped it in plastic, but it wasn't impenetrable. I had been bathing myself for over three decades and figured it wasn't much different to bathe a smaller person, so I went back to the kitchen to talk to my mother while Katie finished the bath. My mother was rinsing off dishes to put in the dishwasher, so I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and looked through one of the drawers for an opener.

"I'll take the sofa so you can have Stephanie's bed," I told her. "I'm so tired I'll probably sleep like the dead."

"I forgot to tell you that Katie has a guest room and told me I can sleep there," she said brightly. "That way you don't have to sleep on the sofa. It doesn't seem like it would be very comfortable."

I froze mid-way while opening the beer. "You're going to Katie's house tonight? What if Stella needs something?"

"That's why you're here," my mother said slowly, as if I didn't understand the concept. "You'll be just fine."

I opened the beer and took a large drag from the bottle. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not good with emotional stuff. What if she cries?"

My mother dried off her hands and gave me a don't-be-ridiculous look. "You remember being a child. Think about how you felt when you were upset and then treat her how you would want to have been treated if you were in her position. It's called empathy."

I rolled my eyes. "I know what empathy is. I'm even capable of it."

She kissed my cheek before hanging the dish towel on the oven door handle. "You can do this, Carlos."

"I hope so," I replied. I stared into my beer, hoping it would do something more for me. Like teach me how to raise a little girl. "Seeing Stephanie like that was –," I struggled to find the words to express my feelings even more than usual. "What if she doesn't pull through?" I asked, practically whispering the words. "I can't imagine having to raise Stella without her. Temporarily is one thing, but long-term…"

"Don't do this to yourself, Carlos," my mother ordered. "Don't go down that road."

"You don't think I should prepare myself for it?"

"I think it's premature to do so."

We stood side-by-side, leaning against the counter as I finished my beer. I could hear Stella and Katie talking incoherently at the other end of the house.

"Daddy!" I heard Stella yell. It took me a couple of beats to respond.

"Oh, yeah. That's me," I said, finishing the last of my beer. My mother took the bottle and patted me on the back.

"You'll get used to it."

I found Katie standing in Stella's bedroom, directing her to put various toys in their respective places. Stella was dressed in pale blue pajamas with two cartoon girls on the front of the shirt. Once she had put a stuffed giraffe back into a hamper with the other stuffed animals, she climbed into her little bed and reached for the night-night book.

"You need to read her a bedtime story," Katie told me, indicating a book shelf filled with children's books. "After story, she goes through the night-night book and tells everyone goodnight. She'll want you to sit on the floor next to her bed and rub her back until she goes to sleep."

"Shouldn't I watch you do it?" I asked. Katie rolled her eyes, grabbed a book of the shelf, and thrust it into my hands.

"I'm pretty sure you know how to read a book," she replied. "Good night, Stella Bella. See you tomorrow. Be good for Daddy."

I heard Katie walk down the hall and speak to my mother. They were out the door and the house was quiet a minute later.

"Story, please!" Stella commanded eagerly. I sat down on the floor next to her bed and opened the book Katie had handed to me. It was called Bernard On His Own. It looked worn, as though it had been read a lot. It turned out to be about a little bear who couldn't listen to his parents and got lost in the forest. He saved himself when he learned how to stand up on his hind legs and growl loudly so his parents could find him. In true children's book fashion, the little bear was praised by his parents for being a brave, disobedient little shit, and was given a meal.

"I like that book," Stella said.

"Yeah? Well, do what he didn't do and listen to your parents," I said. "So you don't get lost in the woods."

Stella opened the photo album and stared down at the picture of Stephanie and me. I saw her bottom lip start to tremble. Oh shit. Please don't cry.

"I want Mommy," she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I know," I said. I reached over to wipe away her tears. "But Mommy is trying to get better right now. You want her to get better, don't you?"

Stella nodded.

"Me too. So we have to be brave and even though we miss her, we have to do what we need to do so she doesn't have to worry about us. Okay?"

Stella nodded. She looked back down at the picture and sniffled. "Night-night, Mommy." She kissed Stephanie on the picture and then looked up at me. "Night-night, Daddy," she told me and before I registered what was happening, she pressed her little lips to mine in a kiss. She then moved onto tell each person in the book goodnight and kissed their picture. When she was done, she closed the book, only to open it up again to look at Stephanie. She started crying again. Something about her pain hurt me on a level I didn't completely understand. It felt somehow similar to the way it felt to see Stephanie in pain, yet different. Worse, even.

"It's okay," I said, rubbing her back. "Mommy misses you too."

After a couple of minutes Stella propped the book up alongside the little railing on her bed, keeping it open to the page with Stephanie. She laid her head on her pillow and whimpered a little as she stared at the picture. I turned off the light on her little bedside table and realized a nightlight was projecting stars onto the ceiling. I kept rubbing her back as she quieted down and her eyes slowly closed. She had likely never spent an entire day away from Stephanie in her life, and even though she seemed comfortable with me, it wasn't nearly the same. I stopped rubbing her back after a few minutes, made sure she was going to stay asleep, and got up off the floor.

I quietly closed her door behind me and went back to the living room. I had no idea what to do with myself. It was only eight o'clock, but I wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The three hours of sleep from earlier in the day wasn't cutting it for me now, especially after the emotions of the day. I locked up around the house and got myself ready for bed. I had just closed my eyes when a small meow sounded from the side of the bed. I turned on the lamp to see the kitten trying to climb up the blanket to get on the bed.

"Go back to your bed in the living room," I told it. Being a cat, it ignored me completely and kept meowing and trying to climb the blankets. I sighed and climbed out of bed, picked up the kitten and took it to the living room. I put it in its bed and headed back to Stephanie's room, only to have it running through my legs before I could climb back in bed.

I grabbed the cat, stopped in the living room for its bed, and carried both to the laundry room. There was a cat door that allowed the cat to get in and out to its food and litter box without the need to leave the door open. I noticed the cat flap had a lock that would allow it to stay shut. I put the cat in its bed, shut the door, and flipped the lock on the cat flap. It had everything it needed in there and would give me peace for the night. I could hear it meowing as I headed back to the bedroom. I climbed into bed, trying to ignore the sound of its pathetic pleas, but after ten minutes of non-stop cries, I got out of bed, grabbed the cat and its bed, unlocked the cat door, and took the cat and its bed back to Stephanie's room. I put the bed on the floor next to the dresser. Maybe it would quiet down if it could see me. It probably hadn't spent a night away from Stephanie since it had moved into the house and may have felt just as lost as Stella did. Was it possible to be empathetic with a cat? Or was I starting to lose my mind?

The cat was out of its bed and crying again before I could even pull the covers over my body.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered. I looked around, as though expecting an audience to have appeared. No one would have no know that I let the cat sleep with me tonight. But just for tonight because I was exhausted and it didn't seem to plan on shutting up anytime soon. I picked the cat up and put it on the bed next to me. "Now shut the hell the up," I said. I turned off the light and laid back down. The cat, happy to be on the bed at last, climbed onto my chest and began kneading the blanket and purring. It eventually curled up in a ball and fell asleep. Now I was stuck sleeping on my back with a cat on my chest. I preferred sleeping on my side. I picked the sleeping cat up and placed it gently on the pillow next to me and rolled over. At some point as I started to doze off, I felt it climb over me and curl up next to my chest. Whatever.

The smell of strawberries woke me in the night. I was briefly disoriented in the dark and the unfamiliar room, but realizing the smell was coming from something directly under my nose. It was Stella's hair. She had gotten out of bed and had climbed into bed with me, curled up next to me the way the cat had been earlier. I glanced at the clock on my phone. It was just after one. I considered taking her back to her own bed, but remembered being little myself and wanting to sleep with my parents when I had been scared or sick. They had never let me and had always sent me back to my room. I decided to let her stay and pulled the covers up over her before going back to sleep.

At least that's what I tried to do. I had no idea that sharing a bed with a little kid was so awful. Every time I had just started to go back to sleep, Stella would move around in the bed. I moved to the other side of the bed, but she always gravitated towards me. At one point, she had her feet in my face, so I moved her around so that her feet were facing towards the foot of the bed. I woke up another time to find her lying with half of her body dangling over the edge of the bed. I pulled her back up and towards the middle of the bed. This continued for the rest of the night. When I woke up at seven the next morning feeling like I had a hangover, it was to find her asleep at the foot of the bed, the footboard the only thing that had kept her from rolling off the end. Now I knew why my parents had never let me sleep with them. Because as the adult, you didn't get much sleep. The cat, who had apparently found somewhere to hide from Stella's assault, meowed happily and went down to see her. Stella woke up when the cat stepped on her and was immediately cheerful.

"Hi, Daddy!" she said brightly.

I groaned and threw my arm over my eyes. This routine was going to take a while to get used to.