Just Breathe
"Yes I understand, that every life must end. As we sit alone, I know someday we must go. Oh I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love. Some folks just have one, others they got none. Stay with me, lets just breathe." -Pearl Jam
I have always hated hospitals.
This waiting room smells like disinfectant, stale coffee and grandmas perfume. The smell stings my nostrils causing my stomach to turn over. I gulp air to stop the wave of nausea threatening to overtake me. "Do you need me to get you anything, Tea? Something to eat maybe? I heard pregnant women like things like ice cream and sardines," I gulp again and blow a long slow breath to calm my stomach, not sure if its due to my nerves or the thought of... I hiccup once so Harper grabs a trashcan putting it next to my chair, "I could call my butler Gerard Butler. No relation. To bring you up some." Tinsley asks patting my shoulder and taking her phone out of her purse. I shake my head no. I can't eat right now. I can't breathe, I can't think and I definitely can't seem to keep my hands from shaking. Why is it so noisy in here?
"I can't do this Harper." I say softly. " This isn't...It's not..." Harper pulls me closer and rocks me back and forth until the shaking stops while Tinsley gives my head a pat, unsure if that's what the other 99% do in situations such as these. Bless her. She tries. I've watched her really grow under Harper's love and guidance. They balance each other well and it makes my heart happy to see Harper spoiled. She deserves it.
"What about a bottle of water?" Harper interjects, " I think I passed a vending machine around the corner." Tinsley extends her hand to Harper helping her out of her chair. I watch them as they walk hand in hand down the hall, before Tinsley stops and wraps Harper in a tight hug, allowing her to fall apart in her arms. Tinsley looks in my direction, whispers something and pulls Harper quickly around the corner.
I pick at the maroon polish on my nails, threatening to undo all the hard work that he did the other night when he insisted on painting them.
"Fly me to the Maroon," he says smiling, holding the bottle up and giving it a gentle shake. "found it in the top drawer of the dresser."
"Would that be the same drawer that I keep my underwear in ?"
"Could be, I was looking for my SD card." he says blushing."The drawers aren't labeled I get all mixed up sometimes."
"Why pray tell would your SD card be in my underwear drawer?" I ask raising a brow at him. He tugs at his earlobe. I love it when he does that, it makes me want to stop all this typing and tell Paul that the dog ate my expense report.
We don't have a dog, though Millicent had put together a rather impressive media presentation (An adorable Freddieism she picked up) she quickly opted for forgo her very persuasive argument once we told her she was about to be a big sister. There is going to be enough poop to deal with around here soon enough thank you.
"So can I paint them?" He stares me down.
"What?" I say arching my brow.
"Can I paint your nails?" he says his sly smile spreading.
"If you mess them up mister you will have to deal with Leslie." I say setting my laptop on the night stand.
"I should tell you though, I never knew you had a nail fetish" I say incredulously.
There's that predatory grin again. Oh boy.
Spencer arrived about ten minutes ago, he had just dropped Potter off at her mom's. They had been on one of their weekly sponding trips; this time to the children's museum, when Harper called him. He begged her to make sure I wasn't alone and insisted she keep me calm until he arrived. Ever since he stepped off the elevator, he's roamed back and forth between a row of chairs like a tiger who is kept in a cage that is too small. I cover my eyes with the heels of my hands, Spencer's pacing is making me dizzy. "The lights are too bright in here." I say letting out a long sigh.
"Yeah, guess they are" Marissa says, pulling at the threads of her scarf and looking upwards. " how much damn longer are they gonna be?" she's hell of a lot calmer than I expected and that kind of scares me. I imagine its more for Millicent's benefit than mine. They sit together hand in hand. Millicent hasn't said a word, she just stares at a discarded coffee stir on the carpet, pushing at it with the toe of her shoe. Harper looks at me, Millicent then Marissa before her eyes land on Tinsley and they nod in unison.
"Beebee, come with Auntie Tinsley," she takes her hand and places it under Millicent's chin, " I've got this new phone and I can't possibly seem to get it to work. Do you think you can show me how to get to my emails? Rhianna was supposed email me to let me know where to pick up the backstage passes to her show next month" , Tinsley covers her mouth, " Oh darn, did I ruin the surprise? I'm just awful at surprises."
"Really?" Millicent's eyes light up.
"That's if you brought that grade up in Science." Tinsley warns. Our eyes meet for a second and I mouth my thanks. They retreat to the far corner of the waiting room.
"Why haven't we seen anyone. There are hundreds of doctors and nurses in here and not a goddamn one of them can tell me...," she looks over at me and runs her hand through my hair smoothing it down my back, "...US..." she corrects, "no one is telling us anything." Marissa says her voice cracking slightly .
"I'll go see what I can do my sweet," Lewbert says giving Marissa a quick kiss on the forehead, before rising and heading to the triage desk. "Don't you worry yourself Carly" he says patting my elbow as he crosses in front of me, "I'll get some answers or heads will roll. I happened to play golf with the Chief of Surgery yesterday."
"Oh Snap." Spencer says, "He's using his lawyer voice." Spencer starts off after him before coming to a stop in front of my chair. He yells after a retreating Lewbert "Lewb, tell them I don't give a damn what it costs, fly people in if they have to, but he better live." Spencer takes the abandoned seat next to me grabbing my hand, rubbing the back of it making circles with his thumb. His voice breaks and he wipes at his eyes whispering, " He has to."
I nod. He has to. I put my hand on my stomach. Spencer does too.
"Cheerios and Bananas, for breakfast? " he says smiling, " You cooked for me?"
"Shut up." I say as I pour some orange juice into my glass. "Ill have you know the box gave me a rather gnarly paper cut. Besides you have had the same thing for breakfast for the past 10 years. Unless its Sunday and then you eat cold pizza." I make a face while I spread some jam over my toast.
"Carly Shay are you saying you are bored with me?" he says cutting bits of banana into his bowl.
"Not at all." I place my chin in the palm of my hand, " I find it somewhat comforting."
"How so?" he says laying the knife on the table and reaching for the quart of milk.
"I like this," gesturing between us , " I like the domestic stuff."
"Hmm. Domesti-Creddie." he says as he spoons some Cheerios in his mouth. I shake my head, he's such a nerd. I wouldn't have him any other way.
We eat in companionable silence for a while. I hate the quiet so, I change the subject.
"So what have you got planned this morning?"
"Oh , I don't know," he says," I was thinking I may head up to the studio, I have to install a new router if we are going to start uploading our content to the cloud." I scrunch up my nose. He reaches across the table covering my hand with his own."Don't make that face Carly." so I roll my eyes at him instead.
"Then what." I say rising from my chair, as I gather our empty breakfast dishes.
" Planning a Babymoon? Maybe Italy? We've got some new memories to make." he says pulling me in his lap and giving me a kiss.
The doors to the operating suites open and a couple of doctors spill out but they usher themselves to other waiting families. I stand, until a wave of dizziness hits and Spencer, detecting me sway guides me back down in my chair. "Sit kiddo. You are scaring me. When did you last eat?"
"I had a Capri Sun and a grilled cheese for lunch. That was what about 2 hours ago?"
"Its 8PM" Spencer says giving me his dad face.
"Oh."
"Yeah. Oh..." Spencer chews on his cheek, "Little Spencer, " I give him a look, Spencer raises his hand, "Or Spencerina, needs you to stay healthy kiddo. I'm going to order food to be delivered. We aren't going to do Freddie any good if we can't keep our strength up. Besides he would kick my ass if he knew I hadn't fed you yet."
The doors swing open again and this time Lewbert rushes to greet one of the surgeons with a strong handshake. This must be the Chief of Surgery Lewbert was talking about. I watch them exchange a few words, I try to scan Lewbert's face from across the room; but they are too far away for me to really get a read on anything. The surgeon removes his surgical cap from his balding head and stuffs it in the back pocket of his scrubs and continues their conversation with his back turned to me.
Freddie's injuries must be much more serious than I was lead to believe. This is the Chief of Surgery after all. Lewbert brings the portly man over to greet us. "This is Dr. Mattson. Chief of Surgery." Lewbert says patting the surgeon on his back so hard, he dislodged his glasses from his nose. Dr. Mattson nods a greeting before taking a seat across from mine.
"Mrs. Benson" the Doctor begins, taking my hands between his. They are colder than I would have thought for someone who until recently had his hands inside an entire person. My person.
I shiver. That was a little dark.
Tinsley hands Marissa her jacket to wrap around my shoulders. It smells like Chanel No 5.
"Its Shay." Marissa interrupts, she is squeezing my free hand so hard her knuckles are white.
I shoot her a go to hell look. Its mean I know but under these circumstances I am not willing to argue over semantics, it would happen when it happens. I am already his wife in more ways than one, what's in a name." At least for now it is." she says as she starts rubbing my back and I sink into her.
"Just call me Carly." I say giving him a weak smile as I release the breath I did not realize I was holding.
"I'm sorry." He says softly.
I only hear the sound of my heartbeat in my ears and nothing else.