JACKSON
April's eyes were the first thing I noticed about her.
I was in the campus bookstore on a hot Tuesday afternoon in late September. I was looking through the racks for 'Fundamentals of Pathology' and simultaneously sweating my ass off. I was about to start my first year of med school at U Chicago, nervous while trying to pretend I wasn't.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead and squinted at the titles of the books laid out in rows. I already had a good armful, and this was the last one I needed. Once I picked it up, I could go home and take a well-deserved nap. I'd already worked out for a few hours that day, and I was beat.
Just a few moments later, I saw the book and reached for it. But just as I did, a much smaller, daintier hand went for it at the same time.
"Oh, excuse me," a voice said, and I looked up at the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.
She was tiny with red hair in loose curls, freckles spotting her cheeks, and the prettiest green eyes. She kept them downcast so I could mostly just see her eyelashes, but the color peeked through just a little. Her nails were painted a periwinkle blue with no chips, and she was wearing white denim shorts with a dark green shirt on top. I remember how she looked in vivid detail - I looked at her and saw everything I didn't know I'd been waiting for.
I picked up the book, as I'd had a grip on it first, and she lifted her gaze to my face. Her eyes were even prettier in the light, even the harsh fluorescents of the bookstore.
"Hey. I need that," she said, eyebrows furrowing.
"It's for my class," I said, placing it atop the stack I was holding. "Last one on my list."
"It's the last one there!" she said, pointing at the empty space the book left behind. "I really, really need that. It's my first day tomorrow."
"Yeah, mine too," I said, laughing.
She huffed. "I was here first," she said.
"Well, I touched it first," I said.
She shook her head and crossed her arms. She narrowed those beautiful eyes and then rolled them, completely agitated. All I could do was smile and laugh like an asshole - partly because I was amused, and partly because I was nervous as fuck around a girl as pretty as her.
"It'll take weeks for one to get mailed here," she said. "Please. I'll pay you, I don't know. Can you just give me the book?"
"I can," I said. "One on condition. I'll trade you for your number."
She raised her upper lip and her eyebrows. "Seriously?" she exclaimed. "Are you really serious right now?"
"I don't think it's that bad of a deal," I said.
"Whatever," she replied, waving a hand as she turned around. "I'll just order one. Have a nice life."
I watched her walk away without tearing my eyes off her, not until she turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. "Damn," I said to myself, hoping it wouldn't be the last time I saw her.
It wasn't. The next day, when I walked into my General Pathology class, I meandered around while trying to find someplace to sit. I scanned the room even though I didn't know anyone yet, and tried to decide what seat would be best.
My gaze caught on the second row - specifically, the back of a head with shining red hair falling down the back. I couldn't help but smile as I trotted down the lecture hall steps and slid into the seat right next to her.
"Hey," I said. "Remember me?"
She jumped, as I'd come out of nowhere. She turned to look at me and I watched recognition flash in those luminous eyes, so I tipped my head to the side with a cocky grin.
"Seriously," she said again.
"Seriously," I repeated, then held up the book. "Hey, at least now we can share."
She eyed me, then the book, then back to me. She was seemingly having some sort of inner turmoil, one that she ended up giving in to.
"Sure," she said, and the look in her eyes changed.
"That was easy," I said. "So, you don't hate me anymore?"
She shrugged. "I didn't hate you. I was annoyed at you for taking the last book because it was a very annoying thing to do. But now, you're offering to share with me, so the sting wore off."
I snorted. "We can share, if you'll be my study buddy. I don't know shit about pathology."
She frowned. "This is the Level 100 class. Isn't that kind of the point?"
"See, you're already smarter than me."
That made her laugh. And after seeing her laugh for the first time, I promised that I would do my best to make it happen all the time. Her teeth were bright and beautiful, her eyes squinted to little slits, and her hand came up to cover her mouth.
"So, 'smarter than me,'" I said. "I'm Jackson. What should I call you?"
She gave me a sidelong glance and a smirk. "April," she said. "I'm April."
And from that moment on, I knew I wanted her as my wife.
…
We kissed on our first date in November, though she swore she wouldn't have done it with anyone else. I believed her and still do. There's something about April that she keeps close to her heart and protects from the world - and she showed me a bit of it that night.
In class and during our study sessions, she would always talk about the ferris wheel at Navy Pier. She knew all sorts of facts about it - how it'd only been replaced once since the original, and the original was the first ferris wheel ever - used at the World's Fair. She knew how tall it was, how long the rides lasted, and would go on and on about how it lit up at night.
So, I only found it fitting to take her there on a Saturday night after we stuffed ourselves with Italian food and frozen yogurt. Seeing her face when we were at the top of the wheel made my fear of heights worth it.
"This is so amazing," she said, standing up and pressing her hands against the glass. "You can see everything!"
"It is pretty cool," I commented, but I was only looking at her profile. Her smile was full of disbelief, and her eyes were shining. The city was still a lot for her to take in - she came from rural Ohio and wasn't too familiar with skyscrapers and the buzz of downtown. I, on the other hand, came from Boston. All this wasn't too new for me.
"Do you want to look?" she asked, turning around.
"Nah, I'm good right here," I said. "Heights kinda freak me out."
"Oh," she said, giggling as she came to sit back down.
She melded against my side and I made a bold move and wrapped my arm around her. There was some unspoken agreement between us that we were definitely on a date, but neither of us had spoken it aloud. But I paid for dinner and dessert, which I thought was a pretty good indicator.
"I just can't believe how beautiful the view is," she said, still looking through the glass while I stared at her. I couldn't believe how hard I was falling for her. I'd never felt like that before.
"I'm about to say something really fuckin' cheesy," I warned her, and her shoulders bounced with a few giggles.
"Okay," she said.
"The view might be beautiful, but not as beautiful as you," I said, with my face turned to look at hers, which put us extremely close to each other.
"Jackson..." she trailed off, shaking her head while clapping a hand down on my thigh. I wanted her to keep it there for as long as possible.
"I told you it was cheesy."
She met my eyes then, hers shimmering, with her lips turned up in a sweet smile. "You did," she said, and her voice grew quiet. Her gaze flitted from my eyes, to my mouth, and it kept going back and forth.
"Should we kiss?" I asked, and mentally punched myself for sounding so adolescent. That probably ruined the moment. I should've just kissed her without the precursor. Why take the romance away like that?
"I think we should," she said, and I watched her eyes close as she cradled my jaw in both hands and pressed her pretty lips to mine - sweet and slow. My heart fluttered in my chest as I copied her motion and closed my eyes, too, arms winding around her lower back to keep her close. The kiss wasn't wildly passionate, rough, or sloppy, but it was everything I hoped it would be.
When we pulled away, the shimmering in her eyes changed to full-out glittering. She looked giddy, and I felt the same.
Then, she voiced exactly what I was thinking when she asked, "Can we do that again?"
…
We slept together for the first time in the spring, almost a full year after we met. I remember because the breeze blowing in was crisp, but it was just warm enough to keep the window open. I can also remember because nothing could make me forget that night.
She was gorgeous, of course, like always. She was nervous, too, but so was I. She was a virgin, and though she had plenty of reasons to be anxious about sex, I had my own fair share about sleeping with someone who had never done it before. It was a big deal, stripping her of that purity, and I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want her to hate it and by proxy, hate me. She was the most important thing in my life, though she'd only been in it for a short while. I couldn't imagine it without her - I didn't want to.
But it wasn't scary, after all. It was beautiful and cathartic, being with her, and it felt different than being with any other girl. When mine and April's bodies came together and formed that union, it felt like I was solidifying my future. She looked at me like I was the only person she'd ever see, and I looked back with enough love to blind her. She was it for me, and if I didn't know it before, I knew it then. As she was naked under me, I wanted everything with her. I wanted marriage, children, and a full life. I wanted to give her everything and experience it all by her side.
When she came, she lost her breath and pinched her eyes shut. I watched her face as the orgasm rippled through, and relished the feeling of her hips spasming and jerking against mine as her muscles tensed and released. I kissed all the skin I could reach and opened my mouth on her neck, sucking her pulse point until her limbs went slack and she lay there trying to catch her breath.
"Wow," she sighed, and I picked my head up to look at her face. Her eyes were foggy and full of feeling, and seeing them that way made me smile. I knew that I was the one to put her in such a state, and I felt proud in an alpha sort of way.
She framed my face with her palms on my cheeks, and kissed me on the lips. We held it for a long time without moving, our faces just squished together out of pure need. And when we finally pulled away to breathe, she was smiling so big that her cheeks bulged.
"What?" I asked, tracing her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose.
She shook her head and laughed a bit. "I can't believe how much I love you," she said, then kissed my chin. I hadn't shaved for a while and she'd been begging me to, but in the moment it didn't seem like she cared. And I figured she'd like the way my beard felt between her legs when we got to that point, which we eventually would.
"You're crazy if you think you love me more," I said, nudging her jaw while she laughed and skimmed her hands down my back, over my shoulder blades. "'Cause I'm fuckin' obsessed with you."
She laughed with her mouth closed and hugged my neck tight, burying her face in my chest while dropping kisses anywhere and everywhere. She wrapped her legs around my waist and held me tight as a vice, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"You got me trapped, itsy-bitsy," I said, using that nickname for the very first time. "I'm not goin' anywhere."
She hummed against my throat; I could feel her eyelashes ghosting over my skin. "Hmmm…" she said. "Good."
…
I graduated med school when I was 26, and April was 25. I remember seeing her in those maroon robes with the black stole, that square hat on top of her little head, and thinking she was about the cutest thing I'd ever seen. She waved at me from across the crowd - Avery and Kepner were nowhere close to each other in the alphabetical line - and smiled that big-ass, bright smile that made me fall in love with her.
She blew me kisses as the line began to move and I had to turn around and start the procession. I graduated Magna Cum Laude and April, of course, had to one-up me and graduate Summa Cum Laude. It was just the way things worked between us, but I didn't care. She was organized, well thought-out, and type A. I thought on my feet and could make decisions in the blink of an eye.
With how different our mindsets are, it's strange that we ended up in the departments we did. April always said she wanted something with set hours and a predictable schedule so she could raise a family, yet she was drawn to trauma. I always leaned towards cardio, but plastics caught my eye before anything else could. We both fit where we fell, though, because we'd found our respective passions.
I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that April's passion will no longer be an option for her, because when we graduated, it was all she wanted. All she could think about, all she could talk about. Neither of us could wait to start our internships at Northwestern Memorial Hospital in downtown Chicago, but first we had to celebrate.
"Let's go somewhere," I told her after we left the restaurant where we ate with our friends. "Pick anywhere."
She gasped, eyes shining, and said, "Ferris wheel."
I laughed and pulled her close by the waist, jostling her a bit. "Think bigger, bitsy."
She frowned as she thought. "Uh… Shedd Aquarium?"
I kissed her cheek as she stared ahead with confusion. "How about O'Hare," I said.
She cocked her head. "What's fun about the airport? I know there's that hall with the lights you like, but-"
"No, no, baby," I said, kissing the corner of her jaw as she stayed clueless. "Pick anywhere to go from there."
"Wait, what?" she said, thoroughly surprised.
"It's my graduation present to you," I said. "Anywhere you want, we'll go."
"Jackson," she said, stopping in her tracks. "You didn't have to do this. I don't know what to say."
"You say where you want the plane to take us, and it'll take us there," I said. "Our bags are in the trunk."
"You sneak!" she said, and slapped my chest playfully. "How did you pull this off?!"
"A fuck-ton of luck," I said, laughing. "Since you notice every little damn thing. I had to do it when you left before me today."
She smiled and craned her neck, asking wordlessly for a kiss. I knew what that gesture meant by that point; she did it all the time.
"I wanna go…" she trailed off. "To Miami. I wanna be on the beach."
"You in a bikini sounds perfect," I said, which made her roll her eyes. "It's decided, then. Let's go."
I booked us at Eden Roc Miami Beach Resort with a specific plan in mind. Of course, April marveled at the white sand, palm trees, and warm weather, but little did she know - I had something much bigger up my sleeve.
The first night, after we got back from dinner with a great view of the ocean, I took her out on our balcony that overlooked the beach. All she had on was a white, flowy nightgown and her hair was down in beach curls around her shoulders - she was a vision. She continued to amaze me even though I saw her every day.
We sat out there with our glasses of sangria and took in the ocean at night, and for hours we just talked. About everything; our pasts, school, and our imminent future - the future we could see together.
My stomach jumped with what I was about to do. I couldn't put it off any longer, because if I did, I wouldn't do it at all. And it was something that definitely needed to be done.
"April," I said, sinking onto one knee in front of her.
She looked away from the water and rested those pretty green eyes on me, then gasped theatrically. I had surprised her yet again - came out of nowhere, just like I'd hoped.
"Jackson," she breathed, and covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes were wide and round, blinking rapidly. "Jackson, oh my god… are you really…"
"April," I said again, trying to keep my voice even. "You're the love of my life. The only one I ever want to be with, the only person I could see myself having a life with. I want it all with you - I want babies, I want our badass careers, I want a house, I want to be your husband." She was openly crying - the tears made her mossy eyes glisten and shine. "So, will you do me the honor of being my wife? April, will you marry me?"
I reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks as she nodded like crazy. "Yes!" she said, then bounced to her feet. I stood up, too, and she flew into my arms and wrapped hers around my shoulders to give me a big kiss. "I love you," she said, nose pressed right to mine. Her eyes were closed, but exuding so much feeling.
"You wanna spend the rest of your life with me?" I asked, playfully kissing the corner of her mouth.
"Of course I do," she answered, and it was set in stone.
We didn't wait to get married, which pissed our parents off to no end. But there was no reason to; we were in a beautiful place with a perfect venue, and we didn't see a point in putting it off. We got married by the beach - I was in dark jeans and a blue button-up, and she was in a little while dress we'd found at a shop along the coast. Though it wasn't a big production, wasn't much at all, it was perfect because I was looking at her. No matter where we were, she was all I'd be able to see, anyway.
…
When Peyton was born, April was in agony for the better part of 36 hours. She cried and screamed and begged for our baby to be taken out of her, and I'd never felt so useless in my life. Nothing worked - not the epidural, and definitely not the pitocin. When the doctors exhausted all other options, they decided to do an emergency C-section on my wife as a last resort - and that procedure is what gave us our strong and healthy baby girl.
Peyton didn't cry at first, and April was silent, too. Silent and spent, more withered than I'd ever seen her, and I didn't know who to tend to first. Our baby was being cleaned up, flushed out, and wrapped up, so I used those moments to kiss April's face and bring her back to me.
"She's coming over in just a second," I said, then looked at her vitals on the monitor next to her head. I was a doctor, I knew she was fine - but there was no way I'd ever be able to understand the exhaustion she was experiencing from what her body just went through. "She's so big, baby."
April managed a breathy, weak smile. "You don't need to tell me how big she is," she said. Even in the midst of all that turmoil, she was still able to make me laugh.
I kissed her and she kissed me back as best she could; it wasn't much, but it was enough. Her eyes were half-lidded when I pulled away, but when they brought Peyton over swaddled in a blanket, April came back to life - and it started in her eyes first. They lit up with recognition and love; the little person who had made a home inside her for 9 months, whom she had grown within her body, was now a living, breathing human about to be set in her mother's arms.
"Oh," April cooed, once they lay the baby down. "Oh, Peyton. Hi, my beautiful Peyton Symone." She looked up at me with hope in those eyes, and I kissed the space between her eyebrows. "Look what we made," she whispered, and I pressed my face close to hers to take in the sight of our baby being held by her mother for the first time.
April soaked in the sight of our child, too. That night, she spent hours just staring at her, memorizing her, getting to know her. She spent so long with her eyes on that clear bassinet, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, because the sight memories made in one year can't possibly make up for a lifetime without them.
…
She's sitting up in the hospital bed now, staring at nothing. Her eyes are white and glassy - a staple of hers has been stripped. It's hard to stomach the fact that I won't see those little greens blink open in the morning anymore, that the color I'd once loved so much is gone. Replacing it is a white shield, a veneer, a mask that hides everything that once was.
Her eyelashes and eyebrows were singed off, too. I wonder if they'll ever grow back.
The hospital room is quiet. Neither of us talk. I can't think of anything meaningful to say, but I want badly to know what's going on inside her head. I don't dare ask, though. I don't want to push her to talk if that's not something she's comfortable with. I don't want to ruin the silence if the silence is what she wants. I can't tell what she wants, though, and that bothers me.
She barely moves. When she blinks, it's quick. But her breathing is slow, like she's deep in thought far away from me. So, when I hear her voice, it's surprising.
"Jackson," she says, sounding panicky. "Are you still here? Where are you?"
"Hey," I say, standing halfway up from the chair. "I'm right here. I didn't go anywhere."
"Where?" she says, body swiveling in the direction of my voice. "Where? I couldn't hear you. Did you leave?"
"I was here the whole time," I say, taking her hand. It makes her flinch, which I really don't like. I don't like that her first reaction to my touch is to be scared of it, though I know I can't blame her. She can't see me coming.
"I didn't hear you," she says, grappling for both my hands. "You're here? You didn't go?"
"I didn't go anywhere," I say. "I promise. Were you thinking hard about something?"
Her breath hitches as she presses her eyes shut - she looks more like herself when she does that, though I feel bad for thinking it. It's hard for me to look directly into those unending, cloudy eyes that used to hold so much personality. It's like looking into the void, and I don't know how to handle it yet.
"No," she says. "I just… I just want you to stay. Can you stay?"
"I'll stay," I say, trying to be as comforting as I can. I crawl into bed and she shrinks into herself, cuddling against me like a little kid. I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head, rubbing her arm with intent. "Don't be scared, itty-bitty. I got you."
She nods, but there's not much conviction behind it.
"Do you want to see Izzie yet?" I ask, as the blonde has been on my mind. She's asked to see April plenty of times, but been turned down for each one. I'm not her biggest fan, but I can't help but feel bad. She's being spurned by her best friend - that has to be disheartening.
"No," April whispers, and hides her face against my chest. "Just you."
…
A few days pass before April is discharged with no improvements. The burns on the top half of her face continue to heal, and she's allowed to go home after scheduling daily appointments to come back and get them cleaned and redressed. I told Mark I could do it at the house, but he insisted she come in and see him instead. Conflict of interest, probably. I'm not allowed to medically treat family.
I'm nervous to take her home. I don't know how to care for someone who's blind, and I don't want to do something wrong. Mark has given me pointers and told me above all else, she's my wife. I know her, and I'll know when something isn't right. But how can he be so sure about that?
I have to try and be confident in my abilities, but it's not as easy as it seems. Now, I have April to nurse back to health and Peyton to take care of, too. I know this won't be easy, but it's what I was put here to do - help my family. There's no better time to showcase that than right now, but it doesn't mean I can't be scared.
"Do you want us to take the baby for a few days?" Lexie asks, holding Peyton on her hip while Mark wheels in the chair that April will ride out in.
"I-" I begin, not sure how to answer, but April cuts me off before I can finish.
"No," she says, firmly, then reaches her arms out. She's not aware she's reaching in the wrong direction, though, but no one tells her right away. "We'll take her. Can I have her, please?"
Lexie makes eye contact with me, and I nod towards my wife. "You don't need my permission," I say, shrugging. "You heard her. We'll take her home."
"Okay," she agrees.
"Let's get you in the chair, Kepner, then we'll get you that baby," Mark says, trying to keep the mood light. "Sound good?"
"Yes."
"Alright," he says. "You need help getting up? You've been sitting for quite a few days. Or can you-"
"Nothing's wrong with my legs," she snaps, and I wince at her tone. Mark doesn't deserve that, and she knows it.
Dressed in street clothes that I brought from home, April presses her hands down and slowly scoots her legs across the mattress until they hang off the side. I watch as her arms tremble, and shake my head to myself. I'm not about to let her fall because she wants to be stubborn. "Here, baby," I say, coming up beside her with a steady hand in the middle of her back. "Let me help you."
She takes a sharp inhale, ready to refute me I'm sure, but she doesn't. Instead, she grips my hands with all her might and lets me lead her to the wheelchair. She descends slowly, puts her feet in the footrests, and demands Peyton immediately.
"Can I have my baby now?"
Lexie walks over and says, "Handing her to you now," she says. "Here, careful. You got her? You good?"
"I know how to hold my child," April grumbles, hands under Peyton's armpits as she holds her close. Too close. Peyton squirms and wriggles to get down or at least sit more comfortably, but April keeps her pressed against her chest - arms strong and unrelenting.
"You're holding her a little tight, honey," I say, placing one hand on the back of April's head.
"She's fine," she says. "I just need her right here. Okay? Is that fine? Can I make choices for my own child, please?"
I sigh softly and avoid Lexie and Mark's eyes as I position myself behind the chair to push. We go through the halls slowly while Peyton still fusses, but April doesn't relax her grip. She presses her lips to the side of the baby's head and keeps them there, almost as if she stops touching her in any way, her world will fall apart. As far as I know, that is how she feels, and I don't have the right to take that away from her.
When we get to the car, Lexie and Mark wait at the drop-off area as I roll April up to the door.
"I gotta take her from you now," I say, kneeling next the wheel of the chair. "She's gotta go in her car seat."
"You don't have to talk to me like that," April says, quietly. "I'm not braindead."
I frown, frustrated at her dismissal of my attempts to be helpful and gentle. I know I can't get angry with her, though. That wouldn't be fair. I have no idea what she's going through.
I take Peyton and buckle her in the seat, then give a small wave to the couple standing a few feet away. "We'll see you tomorrow, then," I say to them. "For the appointment."
Mark nods, and Lexie waves back. They still stay and watch as April gets inside the car, though. She pushes herself up by the armrests of the chair, weak limbs shaking, and I step forward and support her elbows while she lifts her knees to climb inside.
"You got it?" I ask, close to her face.
"Yeah," she says, then pats around near the door to find the seatbelt, so I hand it to her. I hear the buckle fumble around the holster for a long time, but when I reach to try and put it in, she snaps, "I can do it."
"Alright," I say. "I'm coming around, then."
I close the passenger's side door and turn around to catch Mark and Lexie's eyes. "You guys gonna be alright?" Mark asks.
I close my eyes, eyebrows raised, and take a deep breath. "We'll be okay," I say.
"You need anything, call," he says. "Don't hesitate. I'm serious."
"I will," I say. "Thank you. For everything."
He nods, and Lexie comes to give me a big hug. I squeeze her tight and she smiles when we pull apart, and I'm on the brink of tears for some reason. I don't think I'm letting myself realize how scared I truly am.
…
When we get home, Peyton is fussy on my hip while I help April in the door. The baby starts full-out crying when we get inside, but I don't dare let go of April's hand in fear she might fall over or trip on something in her way.
"She's hungry," April mutters, gripping me hard as she slips out of her shoes. "That's her hungry cry. She needs a bottle."
"Do you wanna just nurse her?" I ask.
Her face crinkles up. "I can't," she says. "I'm on a ton of medication. You know that. I have to pump and dump… there's formula in the cupboard, or cut up some fruit, maybe. I can just do it."
"No," I say. "I think you should lie down. It's been a long day."
Even by just standing, she looks exhausted. But still, she fights me. "I can feed my baby," she says, setting a hand on the dining room table for support.
"I can feed our baby," I say.
"Jackson," she says.
"April," I respond, just as firmly. "Why don't you go sit on the couch, and I'll have her eat by you. Okay?"
She pauses for a moment before saying, "Fine."
I make a warm bottle for Peyton who is still whining on my hip after helping April to the couch. She sits all the way to the right and then lays down, a few pillows under her head. She doesn't close her eyes - she just stares with her hands folded over her ribcage, legs straight out.
A few minutes later, I walk over and announce that I'm coming. "Want me to set Peanut on you?" I ask. "I can sit by your feet."
"Okay," April says, voice softer now. She seems calm and sleepy, which is good.
"Here we go," I say, swooshing the baby through the air until she lands on April's belly. Her legs bend over her mother's stomach as she leans against the back of the couch, and April encircles her body with her arms. "There's Mama. There's your pretty little mama."
"Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma," Peyton babbles, and April's face softens a bit as she strokes our daughter's skin.
"Hi, honey," she whispers. "I'm got you."
Peyton sticks the bottle in her mouth and smiles against it, then plunks to the side to rest on April's chest. She lies on her back, still drinking, and April wraps her arms around the baby to keep her steady and close. When Peyton is finished with the bottle, she rolls onto her belly and nestles her cheek against April's chest, closing her eyes almost straight away.
"She's going to sleep," I whisper, holding one of April's small, socked feet.
She doesn't reply. I look up to see that it's because her own eyes have closed, and she's drifting off, too. I smile softly at the two of them and relax for the first time since coming home, soothed for the time being that both of them are safe and somewhat happy.
I let my mind go as blank as possible for a while, but it doesn't last long. I pull out my phone after a few minutes and click on the Google app, where I type in my first question:
"How to describe things to a blind person"
I scroll down until I find a WikiHow article with 8 steps and coinciding pictures. I click on it and skim through; there's valuable information here that I'll be able to use later, so I bookmark the page. I don't have enough focus to read through it right now, so I go back to the homepage and type in something else.
"How to take care of a blind person"
I can't help but worry that I'm in over my head. What if I'm not a good enough caretaker for her? I look over at my sleeping wife and can't imagine doing something wrong that would be detrimental to her health. I would never forgive myself. I need to learn how to do this right, but I have no idea where to start.
None of the articles help. All they do is make me frustrated and lead my mind to other things like, how will she read now? She'll have to learn Braille. Who will teach her? Should I learn, too? How will she use her phone? How will she live a happy and fulfilled life without surgery?
I close my eyes and let the tears come. The last thing I want is for her to know I'm crying, but I figure it's safe while she's asleep. I cry for a long time without trying to stop the flow - I cry for all she won't see and all she already has. I cry for the memories she has to hold onto, and the ones that have already left.
When she and the baby start to wake up, I wipe my eyes. April's arms tighten around Peyton instinctively and she blinks a few times, and the whiteness of her eyes catches me off-guard. I wonder when that will stop.
I gently grab her ankle and run my thumb over the exposed skin. "Hey, bitsy-baby," I say. "You have a good nap?"
"Mmm…" she groans, sounding tired still. "Where… Jackson?"
"I'm right here, we're on the couch. You got Peanut Butter right there with you, too."
At the sound of her nickname, Peyton pushes herself up and spins around so she's face-to-face with her mother. She looks confusedly at her face and tries to make eye contact, puzzled when she finds it impossible.
"What is she doing?" April asks, turning away. "Is she scared? Jackson, don't let her look at me."
"She's not scared," I say, stroking her shin. "She's just curious. She's getting used to it. Just… just give her a second."
We're quiet for a while as Peyton stares at April's face. She doesn't touch her skin, she doesn't make any sounds, she just looks. April blinks and resists the urge to shy away, and in a split second, the baby breaks into a huge smile.
"She's smiling at you," I whisper, very softly, but April hears and smiles back - for the first time since it happened.
"Is she?" she whispers in return, and I nod before realizing she can't see me.
"Yeah, she still is," I say, filling the space, then reach over and tickle the baby's back. In reaction to my touch, she flips around and gives me a pout - grumpy that I interrupted she and her mama's soft moment. I can't help but crack up at the expression on her face, letting out a full belly-laugh that feels good and breaks the tension in the room.
"What?" April says, sitting up and bringing Peyton with her.
"She just made a face that looked just like you," I say, still chuckling. "It looked like this." I mimic the face, then realize again. "Oh, shit." I try and think of a way to describe it, but then decide on something better. "Wait. Give me your hands."
She lifts her palms, and I take her wrists. I set her fingers on my face and she flattens them out, feeling the slopes and ridges of my features while I transform my expression into an exaggerated pout. A smile ghosts on her lips as she traces the wrinkles on my forehead, the way my lower lip sticks out, and the frown of my mouth.
April giggles softly at first, her face turned just slightly to the left. Then, she starts to laugh harder, a little louder, until her whole face is scrunched with joy and the smile on her face looks like the one I've always known. The one I saw when I fell in love with her, and the one I've seen every day since. I see it again, and it sets off sparks in my chest. She's still here.
Her hands stop moving and I touch her face instead. I stroke her cheekbones with my thumbs and she leans against my palm, expression softening as she does. Peyton sits between us, chewing on the empty bottle, happy as can be. The three of us are together, and that's all I can ask for right now.
"You're gonna be okay, bitsy," I say, softly. But she hears me. "We can get through this. Me and you."
