Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (Jimmy/Jacoby)

31

Did I really just say that about my child? Do I really think she's going to be fucked up just because she didn't get preschool? God, talk about worst father of the year award; way to go Jacoby. I sighed, hanging my head as I walked into my office and shut the door. I'd have slammed it, but the nursery and Eliza's rooms are just to my right, so I'd be waking up both children and I don't want to do that. Eliza was hard to get to bed tonight, and now that she's sleeping, I don't want to wake her up.

I heard Jimmy's office door shut and knew I was going to have a lot of apologizing to do. I can't believe I basically insulted my daughter like that! What was I thinking? It's just that I know how much preschool did for me and for friend's kids and I want that for my daughter. I think she needs the social aspect of preschool and if we stick with one, we'll find one that can handle how advanced she is. I just don't get Jimmy's refusal to put this child in preschool. Okay, so she threw a fit today, but we can't give in, because then she'll throw a fit every time she wants to get her way about something.

“I quit,” I muttered to Hamlet and Ophelia who were curled on my couch. I threw myself into the green swivel rocker I have in my room and reclined it, putting my feet on the unattached ottoman that matched it. Ophelia curled into my lap and I lightly stroked her fur. “I just quit. Eliza frowns and Jimmy drops everything to give her her way.”

I shook my head, gently rocking myself and the cat. I've noticed that Ma and Pa are in Jimmy's office more of late, whereas my cats are more in my office. They get along just fine, but it seems that have their preference for their owners. It doesn't matter, really, considering that all four tend to sleep between us in bed. That's a strange thing to roll over in the night, hear a squawk and then find a cat bolting out of the covers.

“What are we going to do?”

“Well, she's enrolled until summer, so she'll have to keep going,” Jimmy said, startling me. Ophelia squeed a bit at me, shifting her position a bit before settling into sleep. “I mean, we can't pull her out now. But after this, she's done.”

“I disagree. This is good for her, Jimmy, and we can't give in to her every time she squawks,” I told him, as he sat down on the love seat I also managed to cram in here. “I realize she's turning into an increasingly introverted child, but we can't let out of everything just because she hates it.”

“Look, I'm going on experiences my mom had here. I talked to her about this one night and she said I would do the exact same thing: pitch a fit when it was time to go school and then get into nothing but trouble while I was there. Besides the fit she threw today, she also hit another child, got in time out for that and twice more for being loud and shouting out of line. She also argued with another student over sharing something, and in short, the teachers all looked extremely pleased to see her leaving tonight. Now, do you really want that kind of child?”

“So what do you suggest we do if she's not in school?”

“Well, we already do preschool with her here to home,” he pointed out and I couldn't really deny that. “So we just keep doing what we're doing. She's most likely not going to be a social butterfly, Jacoby, as much as you want her to be.”

I glared at Jimmy for that comment. “You think I'm trying to turn her into a social butterfly? Excuse me, but what in the world gave you that idea?”

“Well, every time we talk about this, you keep going on and on about the social benefits of preschool, something I disagree with. When we're at the park, you keep telling her she has to play with the other kids, same at the pool, the library, etc. You never let her make that decision for herself.”

“I don't give a shit if she's social or not. I just want her around other kids her age because it's good for her! Otherwise, she's going to be raised mostly around adults, considering she doesn't see Edgar's kids much. Frankly she gets on better with Hank than she does the kids.”

“And that's my point. She's comfortable around adults. Have you ever noticed that when we go places, she's well behaved? I know that's some of our doing, but it's also because she's more comfortable in situations where she's the only kid. That's what she likes.”

“How do you know? Has she come up to you and clearly stated 'I'd rather be around adults and I hate other kids'? I've never heard her say that. I suspect it's what you want for her instead.”

The look on his face suggested he was a bit more than offended at that. Hamlet and Ophelia roused from their sleep the watch the exchange and I really hoped we wouldn't wake up the kids. I did not need two crabby children on my hands right now.

“I really do. Ever since she was born you went on and on and about this and that aren't requirements until this age or that, and how preschool is optional, and kindergarten is optional and on and on. Are you going to quit your job and homeschool her? That will really do her no favors, Jimmy, trust me. I know homeschooled kids and while they're very bright they are some of the most socially awkward people I've ever seen. I don't care if she's a loner or an introvert, but I won't have her socially awkward.”

“I don't want that, either, Jacoby. I can't believe you think I'm trying to steer her to some sort of plan I have! How could you even think of accusing me of that? I want what's best for her and it's clear to me that preschool is not best for her. I'm sorry, but when a program like Creighton, which is supposed to be best in the state with all children, can't handle her, I'm not inclined to send her back. If she's still unhappy at the end of the week, I'm pulling her out.”

“When did she become just your daughter, Jimmy? Last I checked, she was OUR daughter and we both made decisions about her education. So what are you doing at the end of the week? Talking to me about this again?”

“No, because you can't see how unhappy your daughter is, Jacoby. If you recall, we were almost on the hook for a broken arm,” he reminded me, though there was no need. I wasn't going to forget that stunt in quite a while. “If she hadn't been expelled, we'd have been able to pile on one more hospital bill. I don't think she's quite cut out for this preschool gig, really. I can't have my child unhappy, Jacoby. I know that she's going to be unhappy plenty of times in her life, but this is one time I can make a difference. When the time comes for kindergarten, we'll try again. But she's not actually required to attend school until the age of six.”

“You keep reminding me of that. Are you going to keep her home another two years? Because that seems foolish to me. I had intended for both children to, eventually, do daycare together. I know that Hank is happy to babysit right now, but let's face it: he isn't going to be around forever. What are you going to do when he can't babysit? Hope that some other neighbor has the energy to run after our children?”

He stood up, anger written clearly across his face. I stood with him, trying to keep things as even as possible. I could see that he was trying to gather his thoughts so he'd say something intelligible, but he wasn't sure how to phrase it.

“You know what, Jacoby? You're a great dad, you really are. You do your best with what we've got and you make sure our girls have what they need. But you really need to get your head out of your ass when it comes to Eliza and school. You were accusing me of having some sort of plan for her, but really, I think it's you that has the plan for her. You can deny it all you like, but you've decided what she needs and damn anyone that tries to tell you otherwise. I know you have the day off tomorrow and you can have fun taking her to school, too. She has to be there by nine and you can then verify what the teacher told me.”

With that, he stormed out, quietly closing the door behind him. It wasn't long after I heard the bedroom door close, and with a glance at the clock saw that it was 2230 and he was probably going to head to bed. He works Monday through Thursday, but he still has to leave in plenty of time to get to work by 0900. Why he can't take Eliza is beyond me; I didn't plan to go into Omaha tomorrow and he's just going to pick her up anyway! But to make him happy, I'll take her and prove that he's the only one having a problem with her, because she knows she's going to get a response out of him.

***

“I don't wanna go to school!”

Good grief, we're not even out the door yet and she's already howling. Jimmy went ahead of us, but I know I saw a smirk on his face. He said something about a meeting so he had to go in early; I don't buy that, but whatever. I think it was just his way of getting out of dealing with our daughter.

“Eliza, everyone has to go to school,” I explained, attempting to get her into her coat and hat. Temperatures were in the single digits this morning, and I'd already asked Jimmy to start my truck. “All big girls go to school.”

“I pee'd!” she exclaimed and sure enough, she'd wet her pants. I shook my head; she has finally gained good control of her bladder, so this must've been on purpose. “Daddy, it's hot!”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, as I hauled her upstairs and got her changed. I sat her on the potty just in case, and told her to stay there as I went back to clean up the puddle. I know this kid went potty before it was time to leave, so I have no idea how she was able to wet her pants so quickly. Either way, I cleaned up the mess, then returned upstairs, only to find she'd left the bathroom.

“Liza?” I called, looking at Hank, who was in the nursery with Priscilla. He pointed to my daughter's room and I nodded, thanking him. “Come on, honey, it's time to get dressed.”

“NO!” she screamed, and ran out of her room in nothing but a t-shirt, while I grabbed jeans and underwear for her. “I don't wanna go!”

I threw the clothes to the floor in anger, noting that if we didn't leave in the next 10 minutes, we were going to be late.

“Eliza Eleanor Shaddix you get in this room right this instance! If you don't, you'll go into a very long time out!” I shouted, at my wit's end.

“No!” she screamed, but came barreling into the room anyway. “I don't wanna go!”

I managed to dress her, despite her kicking her feet and almost nailing me a couple of times in the head. Once her socks were on, I picked her up and hauled her downstairs, silently putting her coat on her, then her boots, hat, and finally mitties. I thrust her bag at her, ignoring the tears running down her face, as we walked outside and to my truck. I didn't give her a chance to bulk, I just lifted her into her car seat and buckled her in, then got into the driver's seat.

“I pooped!” she exclaimed, and let me tell you, she can't fake that. She was still crying and I slowly banged my head on the steering wheel. Luckily, her bag has everything I need to deal with this here in the truck and I unceremoniously undressed her and changed her in the backseat. “I don't wanna go!”

“I got that already!” I shouted and she jumped, unaccustomed to my being angry with her. “Now, get in your seat and be quiet.”

Not surprisingly, I didn't hear another peep out of her until I pulled up to the preschool, half an hour later. I got her out, making sure we had her backpack, then took her inside. I was greeted by two women, who introduced themselves as Miss Abby and Miss Annie. When introductions were over, I told Eliza to go with Miss Abby and we started over again.

“Child!” I shouted, as she attached herself to my leg, screaming and crying. She doesn't have serious asthma, but even I can hear the wheezing from all the crying. “Go with your teacher!”

“NO! I don't wanna go to school! I wanna go with you!”

I shook my head, attempting to pry my daughter off me, but it wasn't working. No doubt, this is what Jimmy had to go through yesterday and I have a feeling this is going to be an ongoing problem. Her teachers were doing their best to help, but nothing would seem to pacify my child. I made up my mind on the spot, then, and reached down to whisper in Eliza's ear. She nodded, and went with Miss Abby, who looked relieved.

“Miss Annie,” I said, when the pair was out of ear shot. “My husband tells me you don't recommend preschool for Eliza.”

“I do not. I understand your reasoning, but most children don't thrive in preschool when they are as ahead as Eliza. She's a very bright girl, but I think it's wiser to wait until kindergarten for her,” she said, and I nodded, heaving a resigned sigh. “We did our very best with her yesterday, sir, but she cried the entire day and was quite naughty. We implemented a starter program for her, but she resisted us at every interval.”

I nodded. “I'll just take her home, then. I appreciate the effort.”

The teacher nodded and I signed the papers to unenroll my daughter from preschool. I give up.

32

“Jimmy, once you're checked in, you've got company,” dispatch responded, as I landed the chopper. We'd just been out to a remote area of Nebraska to pick up a very sick heart patient, so I wonder what I missed.

I finished landing procedure and check in, then hurried into the ER, only to see my husband and daughter standing there. Neither looked happy and I gestured to my office so I could do paperwork while Jacoby explained what had happened. By my watch, Eliza should be in school by now.

“What's going on?” I asked, gesturing to our daughter. I grabbed a pen and started filling out what I needed to for this transfer. “Why aren't you in school, young lady?”

Jacoby sighed, and I got an idea of the answer. Without being told, Eliza headed for a corner of my office I set up just for her. It has games, toys, and a few books, plus a bean bag she can crash in. She knows to be quiet in daddy's office, and she knows not to run around, so I'm not worried. I listened to the rustle of the bean bag as she settled in, then looked up at Jacoby before signing off on my report.

“I withdrew her from preschool,” he said quietly and I looked up sharply at him. I don't think I heard him right. “You heard me.”

“You took her out? What about our talk last night?” I asked, and he heaved a sigh, as I leaned back in my chair. My back was improving and I'd finally been released from some of my restrictions. Remind me to never pull a muscle again. “I thought you were all over her being socialized and such.”

“Okay, fine, I'm an idiot!” he exclaimed, and I was glad the door was shut. That's one advantage, I guess, to having my own office. “I didn't realize how she felt until this morning. We were getting ready to leave and she purposely wet her pants. Then, once we were in the truck, she pooped her pants, again on purpose. Once we were at the preschool, she threw such a fit; even the teachers couldn't handle her. Once I got her to go with the other teacher, I spoke to Miss Annie and she told me basically what she'd told you; I pulled her out on the spot. I'm a horrible dad, just admit it.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, as I glanced at the clock. “Come on, it's time for my morning break.”

Jacoby and Eliza followed me, as I dropped off my transfer report with Sean and we headed upstairs. He told me to take a half hour and I thanked him, glad that he understood. I knew he was knee deep in wedding prep, but at least he was still able to understand what his employees were going through.

“Now,” I began, once we'd all sat down with a drink. Eliza was pleased to get chocolate milk, while her dad and I nursed hot coffees. “Jacoby, you are not a bad dad, okay? We talked about this last night and both agree that we just want what's best for her. Clearly, school isn't what's best for her right now. We can try again at the age of five, okay? That's when most kids go to kindergarten and she'll be better prepared for that.”

“You're right,” he conceded, and I nodded, though I wasn't looking for victory. “I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth, okay? You win, Jim. She's going to stay with Hank when we both have to work, and we'll try again when she's five.”

“That seems to be for the best,” I agreed, standing. “Do you guys want a donut before I have to go back?”

They nodded and I soon returned with three cream-filled long johns. Eliza was very pleased with her treat, and I was glad to finally see a smile on her face. At what cost, I'm not sure, but we'll make it work.

***

Whether or not Jacoby made the correct decision to pull Eliza from preschool based on two days of bad behavior, it has worked in our favor. I'm not going to say she's a perfect angel, but she's certainly back to the pleasant young lady she used to be. She's listening better and in the two weeks since he made his decision, peace has been restored to our house. We still have the occasional time out, but not four or five a day. There's also been no problem with her hitting, biting, etc., which is a nice change of pace as well.

I only hope this peace lasts, because we're going to find out why Priscilla’s health has taken a turn. She's four months old now, and has gained a good amount of weight, putting her at 20 pounds. She's actually starting to look like a baby now; not that she didn't before, but she looked so fragile before. Coming 10 weeks early was not easy on her, but she did so well in the NICU and well-baby nursery, that I'm not surprised at this development. The doctor, however, is concerned, because she's put on 10 of these pounds in the last three days, and we're all concerned about fluid buildup around her heart. We've been monitoring her more closely the last couple of days, and her heart rate is irregular, which is also worrisome. Her eating habits have changed as well, and that has lead to today's visit.

“Hey Jim, we're heading upstairs,” Jacoby said, startling me. I was at work today, considering her appointment wasn't until the middle of the afternoon. I'd requested to stay grounded and in the ER today just in case, and Sean agreed. “She's still not breathing right.”

I nodded, seeing that he was right; she was panting, but her stomach caved in with each breath and my nerves exploded. I followed my husband out of the ER, after letting Racheal know I was leaving. She'd tell Sean and wished us luck, as we walked to the clinic. I watched Priscilla the entire time, worried for her.

“How did her morning bottle go?” I asked, as we got checked in a few minutes later.

“About as well as it has been the last couple of days. She was fine until three days ago! But today it was much the same as usual: she's sweating, she's falling asleep, I'm worried, Jimmy.”

“Dr. Mumford will have the answers,” I told him, though I was scared to death. I lifted Priscilla from her carrier as Jacoby checked her portable oxygen. She’d had it replaced at the last visit with the nurse, and it's doing better, but we still worry. “What did Christine say when she saw her yesterday?”

Jacoby shrugged, as I held our daughter. “She said her heart was irregular, her breathing was irregular and suggested we come see the doctor. She thinks there is fluid building up around her heart.”

I nodded, as I watched my daughter try to breathe, and I worried about her; she was due for more surgery, and I hoped the patch was holding. I know that as she grows, the patch can't do its job as well, and I fear it may have failed her already.

“Priscilla?”

We practically jumped to our feet and followed the nurse to the back. Jacoby had our diary of her heart rates, breathing problems, and everything else, and he handed that to the nurse once Priscilla was settled into the exam room. She was weighed and I was distressed to see that she'd gained five pounds since yesterday.

“So, give me a basic run down of the last three days,” the nurse requested, as she opened the diary. We'd marked the start of the last three days, and she looked it over while we took turns telling her about it. “Okay. I'm going to get her blood pressure and then the doctor will be in.”

I nodded, knowing it was going to be elevated and I was right. As EMTs, and myself as a nurse, I know all of this, but it's so different when it's your child involved. I knew right away that the nurse was concerned, because I can see right through her practiced face.

“I'll let the doctor know she's ready.”

“We're in trouble,” Jacoby said, and I nodded, reminding myself to hold her a little tighter. Jacoby held her with me, and I looked into her face, memorizing all her features, just in case.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Dr. Mumford said, and I knew right away that things weren't good. “I've seen the diary and we're going to do some tests before we decide what to do. First, if you'll come with me, we'll get a chest x-ray and then we'll get an echo on her.”

I stood carefully with her, knowing exactly what he was looking for: congestive heart failure and enlargement of the heart. I have a feeling we're going in for surgery soon.

Two hours later, the doctor returned with the results of the tests. I knew that face; he was grim.

“We need to proceed with surgery in the next 24 hours,” he said, and I nodded, resting my hand very carefully on my daughter's stomach. “The patch has come undone, if you will, and we're right back to square one. This is not a failure of the patch surgery, it's because the defect got larger. I'm going to admit her to the PICU right now, and we'll have surgery first thing tomorrow morning.”

There was no time for questions and really no point. We knew the situation was serious, and I tried not to think the worst as I placed her in her carrier and Jacoby called Hank. He would keep Eliza for us until we could get home, which might be after the surgery tomorrow. We would have to decide on that once she was settled and we knew more about what was going on. For now, I was only concerned with getting her to the PICU alive.

***

Hank and Eliza came into Omaha for supper with us, as took a break from the hospital. Priscilla was doing just fine, and we were encouraged to get a hotel tonight rather than stay at the hospital. We don't want to spend the money, however, so we're using the employee snow beds instead. Under the circumstances, we're staying for free and Hank was kind enough to bring us some clothes and toiletries.

“Daddies, is Priscilla sick?” Eliza asked, as we sat down with our sandwiches. Hank had insisted this meal was on him, even though we still have money from Christmas. We were stretching that money as far as it could possibly go.

“Yes, honey, but the doctor is going to take good care of her,” I assured her, glancing at my phone every few seconds. They had numbers for all three of us, just in case, and I was nervous to be away from her. “She'll have a special surgery tomorrow and be good as new.”

She nodded, though I wondered how much she understood. Jacoby smiled at her, asking if she had any more questions, but we seemed to have satisfied for her now. In that respect, according to Jacoby's mom, she's every ounce his; he was forever questioning everything as a child, and had never lost that eternally curious streak. We ate quietly after that, though of course, the pending surgery weighed heavily on Jacoby and me. Our phones were sitting out, which we normally didn't allow, and our ears were peeled for our pagers to sound at any moment.

“Thanks for bringing stuff down for us,” Jacoby said when we left the restaurant a few minutes later. “You're sure you don't mind keeping Eliza tonight and tomorrow?”

“I'm sure. You worry about Priscilla and I'll worry about Eliza. I'll bring her down in the afternoon and we can go out to eat and she can see her daddies and her sister.”

“I don't know what we'd do without you,” I said, hugging him. I took Eliza from him then and snuggled her tight.

“Let's hope I have a few years left in me before you have to find out,” he joked and I smiled. True, he's not getting any younger, but he's in good shape, and I don't think we're going to be without him for a while. He's 87 years old, but he doesn't act like it. “You guys just worry about Priscilla and call tomorrow with updates.”

“We will,” I promised, as Jacoby said goodnight to Eliza. She didn't want us to leave her, but she seemed to understand why we were doing it. “I love you, Eliza. Be good for grandpa, okay?”

“I will,” she promised, giving me one more hug. “Two kisses.”

We each received our two kisses, then said goodbye one more time before getting into our truck and headed back for the hospital. It was promising to be a long night, but I knew that Priscilla was in good hands. She would be okay for tonight and first thing tomorrow morning, we'd be down in surgery waiting, hoping that everything went in her favor. I refuse to lose another child.

33

“Sir, is your daughter allergic to anything?”

I looked up at the nurse, not sure I'd heard the question correctly. Priscilla was getting ready to go under anesthesia, and Jimmy was sleeping soundly next to me, his head resting on my shoulder. I tried to be quiet so we wouldn't wake him and cause him to worry.

“I don't think so,” I answered, as Jimmy shifted, and I was able to move into the hall with her. She closed the door, and I took the moment to think. “No, I can't think of anything she's allergic to. Why?”

“She's broken out in a rash and is a little swollen. It occurred as they were administering a light sedative before giving her full anesthesia.”

This worried me, because it would likely delay surgery and she needs this surgery; there's a reason she was first case this morning. I paced outside, trying to remember any allergies, but nothing came to mind.

“I can't think of anything, I'm sorry. She's had surgery before and she did fine. Could it be a onetime occurrence?”

“It's possible. We checked her chart and have used the same sedative as before. Under normal circumstances, this would delay surgery, but the doctor feels that it is more important to proceed, with your blessing of course.”

I nodded; I didn't have to think about it for one second. “Go ahead. She's a strong girl and I know that she needs this surgery.”

The nurse nodded, returning to the OR while I returned to my still-slumbering husband. I know that I have to tell him about this but for now, it's my secret. He didn't sleep that well last night and the rest will do him good; I can worry about our daughter for once while he relaxes.

“Coby, have we heard anything yet?”

I looked over at Jimmy, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching his back a little. I probably shouldn't have let him sleep in that chair, but he seems to be okay for now. I glanced at the clock and realized it had been about two hours since my conversation with the nurse, and no one had come out with any updates.

“Not yet,” told him, smiling. “But the surgery is supposed to take around five hours. She, uhm, did have an allergic reaction to something before surgery, however. The doctor decided to proceed anyway, because she's got so much fluid around her heart.”

“At least we know that once this surgery is done, she'll be okay,” he said, but I knew he was worried. He's a good dad, but I sometimes wonder if he worries too much. Not that you necessarily can with a child like Priscilla, but we both think about Penelope at times like this. “If she makes it through surgery.”

“She's a strong girl; she'll be fine.”

He nodded, but not even I believed my words. I think we both knew that nothing was for certain until she came home, which won't be for at least two weeks, if not three. Either way, we knew there was a long road ahead for our daughter.

***

“How's she doing?” Hank asked, when my phone rang four hours into surgery.

“Well, we had a halfway report and despite a strange allergic reaction to something before surgery, she's doing fine. The doctor thinks surgery will take the estimated five hours. They're draining fluid from the heart as well as doing the permanent fix for the defect. But at the halfway point, everything was going fine, so we're just waiting at this point. We'll be home tonight, though. I don't think either of us can sleep in those damn beds again.”

Hank laughed and it did help relieve some of the tension and stress. But honestly, those beds suck; they're retired patient beds and they claim to have new mattresses on them...my back begs to differ.

“We should be home later tonight. We've got tomorrow off yet, and then we both return to work on Thursday,” I told him, and could hear Eliza in the background. She was begging to talk to us and Hank finally handed the phone off to her.

“Hi daddy. I miss you.”

“Hi baby, I miss you too. We'll be home tonight, okay?”

“Will sissy be with you?” she asked, as the door to the back opened and a nurse walked out.

“No, she has to stay. Daddy has to talk to the doctor now, okay honey? But we love you and we'll see you tonight.”

“Love you daddy,” she said, and then hung up, as the nurse told us the doctor would be out shortly.

“Everything must've gone just fine,” Jimmy observed, settling back into his seat. He was still tense, however, and I sat next to him, rubbing his shoulders. He was tensed up something terrible and I didn't want him hurting again; we just got his back fixed, and I wanted it to stay that way.

“Hello, Mr. and Mr. Shaddix,” Dr. Mumford's voice greeted us and we turned to see him enter the waiting room. He slid his hair cover from his head, balling the brightly colored hat in his large hands. He was smiling and I know we both relaxed a little. “Everything went just fine.”

That was such a relief, you can't even imagine. He outlined the procedure for us, and we listened attentively to what would come next. Basically, Priscilla would be sedated for a couple of days and on the ventilator until it seemed that her body was doing well enough to allow her to wake up. Heart surgery is hard on the body, especially on such a small body, so it's important to keep her as still as possible. The goal is to wake her up in about three to four days and then it's just a waiting game.

“Thank you,” Jimmy said, as the doctor stood. We could see her upstairs in about an hour, so we decided to get some dinner in the cafeteria. When we were alone, Jimmy embraced me tightly, and I felt warm tears on my neck. “She's going to be okay.”

“She is,” I assured him. I turned his face to me, wiped his tears and then kissed him, grateful for this bit of good news.

***

We finally got to see Priscilla around two that afternoon. She looks a mess, but she seems to be okay. There are so many tubes and wires attached to her, but she looks comfortable for now. The nurse assured us that she was doing fine and that the drainage tubes and such would gradually be removed as she recovered. She just had a patch put in place, so she should have an easier recovery than some other babies.

We won't be able to sit with her for a couple of days, but just seeing her made us feel so much better. We didn't stay long and told the nurses that we'd be down in ER for a bit before going home, in case anything went wrong. If everything was okay, we'd come say goodbye in a couple of hours and then head for home. They encouraged us to sleep at home tonight, since we can't do anything right now anyway.

“How did it go?” Sean asked, as soon as we were in the bay. It was quiet, and everyone on duty was quickly gathered around us.

“It went perfect,” I announced and they all quietly cheered. “She's getting settled back into the PICU right now, and then we're going to go back up. She looks awful, all bruised and stuff, and all the tubes and wires, but she's doing fine right now. They're going to keep her sedated for a couple of days, for pain control and for healing, but gradually, that will be lifted. The doctor thinks she'll be in the PICU, if everything goes according to plan, around a week to a week and a half. Then, she'll move into a regular pediatric ward and then home.”

“Did she have a band and a patch?” Hollister asked, and I shook my head.

“No, they got in there and it was just the VSD. The rest of the heart was fine and the artery was in good shape. Thankfully, she just needed a patch, and everything else was fine. She's gotten so lucky and we're so thankful for everyone here.”

“I'm glad she's doing well,” Anthony said, smiling. “I want my little god daughter to be a big strong girl. I already have a bike picked out for her when she's older.”

We all laughed and it felt good to laugh. We were able to relax despite the stress and I was so thankful for our friends. We stayed and made a little more small talk and then decided to head upstairs. Priscilla should be settled now and we wanted to visit a little before we went home. I felt bad leaving her so soon after surgery, but we needed to be home with Eliza as well, and Hank couldn't have her all the time.

“She's doing just fine,” her nurse assured us. “Dr. Mumford will be up in the morning to check on her and do an echo to check on things. But so far, things are going fine. She did have blood and platelets during surgery, which is standard procedure and she's doing fine from that as well.”

“Thanks,” I said, peeking into the open incubator. She's going to look so small in the pediatric beds. The weight she'd gained has certainly gone with the draining of fluid and she looks more normal now. It's hard to believe she's four months old, and only 12 pounds. “Hey baby girl. Daddy and I are going to visit every day, okay? They won't let us stay long, because you need your rest, but we love you.”

I moved out so Jimmy could have a moment to speak to her and asked the nurse if it would be okay to head home. We're so close that we can return at a moment's notice.

“I would actually advise it. I know it seems wrong to leave her, but there's nothing you can do and she needs all the rest she can get right now. You will also be able to be better deal with the stress of her procedure and recovery if you're at home with your other children and sleeping in your own beds. So there is shame in going home right now. You can always call for updates and if anything requires your immediate attention, we'll call you right away.”

“Thanks,” I said, as Jimmy came out of the PICU. I took him into a hug and told him we were going shopping and then going home. I know he wanted to spend another night at the hospital, but the nurse is right; we will do so much better with things if we're at home, and I want to get some better sleep tonight. “Come on, honey. She'll be fine and they'll call if anything happens.”

“Can you put this over her bed?” Jimmy asked, and I watched him pull a picture from his pocket. It was a picture of Eleanor taken about a month before she died.

“Of course. Is this her grandmother?”

“Yes, one of them,” he explained. “It's Eleanor Marks, a family friend who acted as a grandmother for her.”

“I'll hang it over her bed right now,” she promised, taking the photograph. “Be sure to relax and get some rest.”

I nodded, leading my husband toward the elevator, as we watched the nurse carefully tape the picture over Priscilla's bed. We're heading to the bookstore first, because we both need to relax and we still have Christmas money to spend. Now that we've arranged our budget for this surgery and our other hospital bills, we can relax a little.

“I love you,” I told Jimmy, as we climbed into my truck. I kissed him and he deepened it for a moment, before pulling back.

“I love you, too,” he responded, smiling.

How was Download? *gives you plenty to read upon your return*

***

34

“You know,” I whispered in Jacoby’s ear, huskily, because I knew it turned him on. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

He turned, a grin on his face, and nodded. I knew we had time before Eliza woke up, and, since it’s a Friday, we’d both requested today off. It used to be, before we had kids, that Valentine’s Day was a big affair of showing our love. Then, we decided that we should really be showing that love daily and decided we didn’t really care that much about the day. When Eliza was born, we decided we’d make it a family day, and as such had started our new traditions. We took time for each family member to make cards for the others and we put them in pink stockings I’d found years ago. Eliza delighted in seeing what she got each year and the joy on her face made it all worth it.

“Let’s go,” he whispered back, rolling over to face me. Since we had the day off, we’d decided to lie in bed for a while; Priscilla was still in the hospital, as her surgery had only been a week ago and she was doing great. Everything was on schedule; she was off sedation and really perking up. If things continue to go this well, she’s going to move to a regular pediatric ward on Monday. “We need to relieve some stress.”

I nodded, bringing his face forward for a kiss. I know some people don’t like morning kisses before their partner has brushed their teeth, but I don't care. He smiled, nipping my lower lip, and then his tongue begged for entrance. There is nothing quite like Jacoby, let me tell you. I couldn’t help how excited I got, and he was quick to run his hand up and down my erect penis. You know, I like it when he enters me, but there is something about a dual hand-job that is almost better.

“Mmmm,” he murmured, as I used my special touch on him. He groaned deep in his throat, and I swear he can purr. He slowly stroked me up and down, while I returned the favor and we sped up in tandem.

“Daddies?”

Fuck.

“Yes, Eliza?” Jacoby asked, lying beside me, our hands thankfully concealed by the blankets. We were still going (the joys of parenthood, let me tell you), though we were containing our reactions.

“I’m hungry.”

“Go potty and get dressed and then we’ll see about breakfast,” he promised, and I sighed with relief when she left the room without a fuss. “We’ll resume this tonight, Mr. Shaddix.”

“You bet we will,” I told him, as I reluctantly let him go. “You know, she takes a while to potty and get dressed, so I vote we take a quick shower.”

He nodded, as we got out of bed and hurried for our bathroom. We left the door open in case she needed us, and I started warming the shower. I knew, of course, that Eliza would indeed need us, because she always needs us, but at least we can get a few minutes to ourselves again. It’s going to be a brief few minutes, of course, but every minute counts.

“You know, I can’t wait until our children are grown and out of the house,” Jacoby remarked, as I washed his hair. It’s very relaxing, trust me; I give some of the best scalp massages. “Then, we can have all the uninterrupted sex we can handle.”

“You know, best thing we ever did was to finally let Eliza start using the guest toilet on days like this,” I told him, as I rinsed his hair. “I am so grateful that we got her to hold herself over the big potty.”

He nodded, indicating that we should trade places. He wet my hair, then started to massage shampoo into my hair. It’s not sexual for us; it just feels quite good, like a good massage. His fingers are just perfect for the job, as they are for many jobs, and I delight in the feel of his hands in my hair.

“You know, that feels so good,” I said, and he nodded, kissing me. He started rinsing my hair, and I knew the best was still to come. “Let’s give this a try.”

“Daddies? I’m still hungry.”

“Go play, honey. We’ll be ready in a minute!” I called to her, and despite the little growl of displeasure that left her lips, I heard her scurry off to her playroom. “Okay, sir. Have your way with me.”

***

Note to self: don’t leave a three year old on her own for very long when she’s hungry. She did go play as we requested, as far as I could tell. However, when we apparently didn’t get down here in time, she decided to make her own breakfast. As such, there’s milk spilled everywhere, a box of cereal sitting in the middle of the floor, and most of it is spilled around the bowl rather than in it. Chunks of banana floated in the puddle of milk and I smiled. I wanted so hard to be mad at her for it, but I just couldn’t; we both burst out laughing at soon as we saw the mess and our daughter standing over it, looking as guilty as they come. Her lower lip was even trembling, and I couldn’t help myself.

“Eliza,” I laughed, holding my stomach. “Did you try to make breakfast?”

“Uh huh,” she whimpered, nodding, still looking down at the mess she’d made. I even noticed one of her little spoons stuck in the bowl, and the milk dripping down her front. Lucky for us, it’s been a mild February, so we can go into town for more groceries with no trouble. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jacoby told her, still laughing. Tears were streaming down our faces, and I wiped mine away, trying to control my laughter. “You’re not in trouble, Baby Girl.”

That seemed to break the ice, as it were, and she started laughing, her infectious, high-pitched giggle filling the kitchen and echoing off the walls. We managed to get control of ourselves a short time later, as I started coughing a bit, and we cleaned up the mess together. There was just enough milk for French toast, and Eliza seemed to find that more appealing.

“At least you tried,” I told her, smiling. We’re always telling her to try stuff, and she was just doing as she was told, basically. “That’s what’s important.”

She smiled, reaching her arms up to me. I picked her up and carried her upstairs for a change of clothes, considering hers were soaked with milk. Once she was cleaned up, we walked back downstairs in time for Jacoby to bring her plate over. I cut the bread for her, then doused the pieces with syrup, watching her excited face. Erring on the side of caution, I covered her with a dishtowel, then told her to eat. In the mean time, Jacoby had coffee ready as well, and we all soon sat down to eat.

“I see daddy got out the cookie cutters,” I observed, and Jacoby nodded, grinning a bit. We made heart-shaped cookies with pink frosting the other night, and clearly, he’d found a secondary use for the cutters today. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. “They look good.”

“Thanks. I didn’t think they were going to work,” he admitted, taking a bite. I reached over and wiped some syrup from his chin and Eliza giggled. “Thanks, daddy-o.”

“Any time,” I responded, smugly. We all started laughing again, and I have to say, after the stress of the last week or so, it was nice to have laughter in our house again. “So, I thought we’d take Priscilla’s valentine down to her today.”

“Okay!” Eliza exclaimed, and bounced a bit in her seat, before asking for more French toast. I think she’s having a growth spurt, because her appetite is through the roof…or she’s got a hollow leg, I’m not quite sure yet. “I love Sissy.”

That made me sigh in relief. Those two are finally getting along better, as I think Eliza realizes that we are only giving Priscilla more attention because we have to. If her heart monitor sounds or something, we have to respond right away. I also think that having her sister gone for the last week might’ve helped, because we can give Eliza more attention right now, which she craves. It’s kind of hard to balance what Eliza wants with what Priscilla needs sometimes.

“Well, shall we head into Omaha?” Jacoby asked, when were all finished eating. I nodded, helping clear the table. Eliza and Jacoby grabbed Priscilla’s stocking, while I gathered jackets. We’re having a warm snap right now, and so we’re enjoying the chance to be outside without sixteen layers on. Of course, our yard is a muddy mess, but who cares? It’s warm out! “Ready?”

I nodded, helping Eliza into her coat and boots (her tennies are not water proof). She will, of course, have to be steered around every puddle, minus the few I ‘don’t see’, and naturally, we have a change of pants just in case. Today, she only managed to get through two puddles, so her pants are not muddy enough to be changed. I buckled her into her car seat, then got into the driver’s side of my truck, hoping the gravel had firmed up a little. When we get these thaws, our gravel becomes a muddy mess as well, and the truck slides this way and that until we reach pavement.

“Here we go,” I announced, turning the truck onto the gravel. Sure enough, I had to go slow, as the truck’s front end slid back and forth on the mud. “I hope no one is coming.”

It’s actually somewhat rare to meet people on our gravel, even though we have plenty of neighbors. I’m just concerned that, the way I’m sliding, I could slide into someone. The first four miles were great, though we did meet someone right before the pavement. Things were fine, though, and we were glad to get to the blacktop.

“We’ll go see Priscilla, and then we’ll have dinner out,” Jacoby said, and Eliza clapped her hands in excitement. “Where do you want to go?”

“The BBQ place!” she shouted, kicking her feet a bit. “It’s tasty!”

I laughed, but agreed that we could afford Famous Dave’s today. After all, Jacoby and I save up for this, so we can treat our children to something fun that we can’t do very often. Add to that the fact that neither of us can make brisket to save our lives, and well, there you go.

“Okay, now remember, we have to be quiet when we visit Priscilla,” I reminded Eliza, once I’d parked. I helped our daughter out of the truck, taking her hand so we could all walk in together. “There are a lot of sick babies in there, and they need to rest.”

“Okay,” she whispered, as we walked into the ER.

“Hi guys,” Hollister said, smiling as she walked up to us. She squatted down so she was on eye level with Eliza. “How are you little one?”

“I’m good. We’re gonna go see sissy,” she told her, and I smiled at the pride in her voice. “She’s sick.”

“I know. But I bet seeing you will help her get better faster. You be a good big sister, okay?”

Eliza nodded, as Hollister stood to talk to us. I could tell from the looks of things it’d been quiet today, which was always nice, especially when one was working the weekend.

“How has it been today?” Jacoby asked, picking Eliza up and settling her on his hip.

“Good so far. We’ve had a couple of calls, but nothing serious. I’m still wondering what the afternoon is going to bring,” she said, and I caught her flexing her ankle. She’d broken it a couple of years ago in an ambulance rollover accident. “I’m just as glad; my ankle is killing me today.”

“Getting arthritis in it?” I asked, and she nodded. Anthony and Jacoby had been the accident as well, and Jacoby’s arm was starting to develop a bit of arthritis as well where it had been broken. “I know the feeling. My leg does the same thing.”

“I’m supposed to have a doctor look at it this week, just to see what we can do for pain control. If we could make it stop hurting, I’d be happy. I don’t want surgery on it; I just want to stop limping.”

“I gave up on that years ago,” I laughed, smiling. I’d broken my leg a few years back when I fell on the ice at work, and when it was going to rain or snow, I knew. “But good luck.”

“Thanks,” she said, as we moved on, heading upstairs. We’d gotten no calls today yet, so we took that as good news.

“Hello Shaddix family,” Matilda, her nurse the last couple of days, greeted us, smiling. “I was just about to call you.”

“Good news?” I asked, and she nodded. I was relieved, because I couldn’t handle any bad news.

“We’re moving her tomorrow, because she’s made a great recovery. We’ve managed to decrease her oxygen a little as well, so she’s doing a great job.”

“That’s great!” I exclaimed quietly, a broad smile on my face. “We wanted to bring her Valentine’s Day presents.”

“Go ahead; we’re done with cares for now.”

I walked into the PICU, glad to see my daughter happily kicking her legs in the little open incubator she’s occupied for the last week. She was smiling, and it was nice to see fewer tubes and wires attached to her. She’s going to need a few of those wires for a bit longer, so we can monitor her heart and breathing, but over all, she really is doing so much better. Eliza gave her a gentle kiss on her forehead, then handed her the stocking. We took pictures of her opening her gifts (okay “opening”…we did the work), which were pretty simple: just a few clothing items, and a new book.

“We’d better let her sleep,” Eliza observed an hour later, as Priscilla yawned and went to sleep on us. She’d been calm the whole hour, and I was so glad. “Love you, sissy.”

We all said our goodbyes and then asked to be notified when she was moved tomorrow. We’d like to be here for it, but if we can’t that’s fine, too. I walked out of the hospital with my family, feeling happy for the first time in a very long time.

Did you arrive home safely? Hope you had a great weekend!!

And don't panic, we have five chapters left after this =)

***

35

Jimmy and I brought Priscilla home two weeks after her surgery. She was understandably cranky in the first weeks home, but now, 12 weeks later, she’s doing just fine. We’ve just come from a follow up appointment and everything is healed and her heart is working like it should. This is such a relief for us, and the doctor said she’s making a 100% recovery. Over time now, probably leading up to and just after her first birthday, we’ll work on weaning her from the oxygen, and we shouldn’t have to monitor her so closely anymore.

It was a relief to get her home as well, though Eliza didn’t do so well at first. She calmed down, however, and now she’s being an awesome big sister. Priscilla still has quite a medication regimen, but things are looking up for her. As we start the climb into spring, I’m looking forward to spending time outside with both girls, especially Eliza, who loves to help us plant our gardens. As Priscilla recovers, too, we’re preparing for several growth spurts, as she’s currently quite behind her peers, even for a preemie.

“Jacoby, watch,” Jimmy said, pointing the camera at Priscilla. She’s now nine months old and five months out of surgery. We’ve got her on her tummy, her head up, exploring the living room. We have to place blankets down because, while the laminate flooring is spotless, it’s not very comfortable to lay on. “Go on, honey.”

“Go.”

I about melted; her first word was ‘go’. I wish it would’ve been dad or something, but we’ll take ‘go’. I watched her more closely now, as Jimmy was recording still, meaning she had something else to show me. Finally, she pushed herself over onto her back, causing me to clap loudly, pumping my fist in the air.

“Good job honey!” I cheered and she smiled, performing the move again. Eliza, now aged four, looked up from a book and smiled as well. She’s going back to preschool this fall, and we’re hoping it works for her. “I’m so proud!”

Jimmy nodded, putting the camera down, but he looked reserved in his excitement and I was concerned. I pulled him aside, where we could see the girls but speak without Eliza overhearing.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, as he placed our camera on the kitchen table. He’d turned himself away from Eliza’s view and I watched his eyes well over with tears. “Tell me those are happy tears, honey. This is great news!”

He shook his head and I was confused; how could this not be good news?

“It’s good news, I agree. But Jacoby, she’s four months behind other kids. Most kids roll over around five months. She was doing everything else on time and now she’s behind.”

I took a moment before answering, because on the one hand, I can see where he’s coming from. On the other hand, why does it matter? Every child develops in their own time and she was having heart problems at four months old still.

“Well, I understand that,” I started, and he nodded wiping his eyes. Eliza was still engrossed in her book and Priscilla was on her back again, kicking her feet and making her little noises. “But remember, honey, every baby is different, you know? At four months, she was having heart surgery and that took almost two months to completely recover from. So really, all things considered, she’s doing really well. She’s holding her head up, her first word is actually a little early…I think she’s doing great.”

“I know. I guess I just had high hopes, that’s all. Now that she’s recovered from surgery, she’s off the oxygen except at night, she doesn’t need monitored except at night, I was really hoping she’d play catch up a little faster.”

“She will,” I assured him, glancing again at our children. They were content, and I held my husband tight. “She’s already doubled her size since surgery, so that’s progress, right? She’s rolling over, she’s talking, she’s eating like a champ, and she’s even starting to taste solid food. She’s got three teeth, she loves jars of applesauce and carrots, I think she’s doing great.”

“She is, I know. I don’t know why it bothers me…maybe I just get too hopeful, you know?” he said, and I nodded, because I completely understood; honestly, I do the same thing. “Either way, this is a great victory for her. We should get the little walker out we had for Eliza and see what she does with that. She’s going to start crawling before long, you know.”

I nodded again, looking over as Eliza got out of her chair and came toward us. Since it’s a Saturday, we should really find something to do. It’s nice out, given that it’s July, and then I had an idea.

“Guys, what about a picnic in the park?” I asked, and Eliza’s face lit up with happiness. “Jimmy?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he agreed, and looked over at Priscilla, who was back on her stomach. I knew that rolling was just a prelude to getting into everything, and considering she’s already putting everything on earth in her mouth, our lives are about to get interesting. “I’ll get Priscilla’s food.”

She’s finally getting into solid food, though it’s going to be a while before we move away from the bottles. She takes a good helping of cereal every morning, though, and her bottles are down to about three or so a day. The doctors are very pleased with her progress, as are we. We’re especially pleased because she’s been cleared to travel and we’re taking our usual month in California this summer. We leave on Monday, and Eliza is beside herself with excitement. Jimmy’s parents have also talked about taking Eliza for a month next summer, just to give her a chance to hang with her family out there. We’re talking it over, but so far, we like the idea, even though she’ll be so far away from us. His parents are trustworthy and she’s been begging to stay with grandma and grandpa for a while now.

“What should we take on our picnic?” I asked Eliza, as Jimmy packed a couple jars of food and dry-prepped a couple of bottles. We’d bring a thermos of cold water and then we could make bottles for Priscilla from that.

“Cheesy!” she exclaimed and I laughed. This child will eat mac and cheese no matter if it’s hot or cold. We don’t usually take it on picnics, but I’d make an exception today. “It’s tasty.”

She licked her lips and rubbed her tummy, making us both laugh. How she can eat this stuff cold is beyond me. Nonetheless, I packed it for her, along with sandwich fixings for us. At the last minute, I grabbed some slices of chocolate cake I’d made the day before, and finally, we were ready to go. Jimmy had disappeared downstairs and came back up with some ice we keep on hand, which he placed in the cooler.

“What else do we need?” I asked, and Eliza looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Blankets!” she shouted and ran for the hallway cupboard upstairs. “I got it!”

I went to help her, and we both brought a couple of blanket downstairs. Jimmy had started loading his truck, and while it took some time to get us all settled and packed, we were finally ready to go around 1230. Jimmy pulled out of the garage, but stopped suddenly when Eliza yelled at him.

“We forgot Grandpa Hank!” she shouted frantically. “We gotta take him along!”

I smiled, pulling out my phone to call him; I hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed if he was busy. Luck had it, though, that he was free, so we drove up to get him. He brought a lawn chair, which spurred us to go back for ours, and finally we were on our way.

“How are you, ladies?” he asked, always interested in our girl’s lives. It was a good feeling, knowing that he was interested in all our lives.

“I’m good!” Eliza exclaimed, dancing a bit in her seat. She’s almost big enough now for a booster seat, but she’s got a few pounds to go. “We’re going to have a picnic in the park!”

“I know. I can’t wait to see what you packed,” he said, smiling. “How are you Miss Priscilla?”

“Tell Grandpa that you rolled over today,” I prompted, and he clapped, smiling at her. “She also said her first word today.”

“Oh? What’s your first word?”

As if on cue, she smiled up at him with all three of her teeth and said, loud and clear, ‘go!’, causing Hank to laugh. It’s always nice when this family is relaxed and laughing, something that, at times, happens far too little.

“Here we are!” Eliza announced when Jimmy pulled into our favorite out of the way park. I firmly believe no one knows about this park except those of us who live out here in the boondocks. I’ve certainly never seen other families here that don’t live out by us. “Yay!”

As soon as her little feet hit the ground, she bolted for the playground, hopping on the first swing she came to. The rest of us took our time, getting things out of the truck and making sure Priscilla was well protected from the sun. Between sunscreen and a hat, she was good, although she hated the hat. Thankfully, the Velcro on the tab is strong enough that she can’t get it off yet.

“Watch!” Eliza called, and swung higher and higher, which made me nervous. She’s going to jump off, isn’t she?

Sure enough, she jumped, landing on her feet with a triumphant smile on her face. I almost fainted in relief and told her not to jump off the swings anymore. This child is turning more and more into Jimmy as a child and the next thing you know, she’ll break both arms. Trust me, he’s done that, and I don’t want to go through that many weeks of hell.

“Let’s eat!” I called and Eliza rushed to the blanket, sitting down and waiting impatiently for her cold mac and cheese, a sandwich and some salad. Today, Jimmy had tossed cucumbers and tomatoes in a little vinaigrette, something we all enjoyed. “Do you think Priscilla could handle a couple bits of tomato?”

Jimmy looked thoughtful for a moment, the nodded, reaching back into our basket. He pulled out a sharp knife and cut a piece of tomato into some of the smallest pieces I’d ever seen. I put them in reach of Priscilla one at a time and watched her eagerly scarf them down.

“More,” she demanded, tapping her finger tips together. We’d taught both of the girls some sign language before they could talk and it had really paid off. “Please.”

Wow…three words in one day? I wonder if she’s been talking and we never noticed. Either way, we happily cut her more pieces of tomato, watching her eat them. Eliza choked once when she was getting started on solid food and while we know what to do, we don’t want to do it. The salad was good and I complimented Jimmy; his coking just keeps getting better and better and I look forward to his meals each time he offers to cook.

“What else do we want to do today?” Hank asked, making himself a second sandwich. We all paused to think and then Eliza came up with the best idea: head into the pool at Missouri Valley. “Sounds good. Did we bring swim suits?”

“No, but we can take the picnic stuff back home and grab them,” Jimmy suggested and I agreed. A dip in the pool would be the perfect way to end our day, and both girls love the water. We’re making great progress getting our hospital bills paid off, and as soon as we do, we’re going to save up and get a pool in our backyard. “How does that sound?”

“YAY!” Eliza shouted, as she finished eating. “Can I go play?”

“Go ahead, but don’t run; your tummy will hurt.”

She nodded, and promptly took off running, which made me laugh; maybe kids are immune to that problem. The rest of us watched her as she played on every piece of equipment available to her. It’s all old stuff, so I bet the county doesn’t do much with this park anymore. I’m not complaining, though, because I hate the new, modern stuff.

“Well, we should head back if we’re going swimming,” Jimmy said, smiling as Priscilla snoozed under the shade of her stroller. She’s got a more regulated nap time now, but we’re still working on a solid nap time for her. Once she’s over the threshold of her first birthday, we’ll go down to one nap per day, just as we did with Eliza. “Eliza, come on! Time to get ready for swimming!”

“Coming!” she responded, running toward us. We got packed up and half an hour later, we were at the pool. It’s more of an aquatic center, I guess, but it’s still fun. We got the girls and ourselves slicked up with sunscreen, then headed into the water. Hank is a great swimmer, so he’s been teaching Eliza to swim.

“This is the life,” Jimmy said, as he lowered Priscilla into a special floatie. She could sit in it, propped up, and “swim” as we floated her around the shallow end. “We have our three children, even if one is in heaven, we have a great family, and we’ve got jobs we love.”

“I agree,” I said, kissing him lightly. “I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

He smiled, blushing a bit, as we watched Hank and Eliza. She was jumping off the side and into his arms, then he’d move her into a back float. The lessons were going well, and I grinned widely. This is indeed the life and I really wouldn’t trade it for the world.

36

“Mom, at least let us pay—“

“Your dad and I can do it, Jimmy, it’s okay.”

“I know that, but mom—“

“No buts, Jimmy. We’ve got it all taken care of anyway.”

“I know—“

“Jimmy, it’s fine.”

“But—“

“No buts.”

“Oh fine. You win.”

Laughter rang over the phone as my mother celebrated her victory. Jacoby and I were making last minute preparations for our trip to California, namely finding a place to rent an oxygen concentrator for Priscilla. Mom knew she needed it so she and dad took it upon themselves to rent one and pay for it. I was trying to talk her out of it, but no dice; she and dad were paying for it and I wasn’t going to win this argument.

“We appreciate it, you know,” I told her, and even though I couldn’t see her through the phone, I knew she was nodding. “She’s off oxygen during the day, though we still check her sats to make sure she’s doing okay. We can put the oxygen on any time she needs it, but since she was weaned from it, she’s only needed it once. I would swear she was having an asthma attack, but the lung doctor swears she doesn’t have asthma. When we get back, I’m taking her back in to my doctor and getting a second opinion. They just couldn’t get her in before we leave.”

“Deep breathe, honey. Is everything in line for her portable oxygen during the flight?” mom asked, as I tossed another pair of socks into the suitcase. We were taking two suitcases, since we need one for the girls and one for us. Thankfully, the cases are large enough to hold a month’s worth of clothes for Jacoby and I and the girls.

“Yes. We called the airline today and gave them 48 hours notice that an infant would be flying with oxygen. We have an approved concentrator and it fits the carry-on size requirements, so she’s good to go. The doctor faxed a signed note down to ER yesterday, so we picked that up before we left, so that’s taken care of as well. All we have to do now is work tomorrow and then we’re off for a month. I cannot wait to get out there and lay on the beach.”

“With sunscreen.”

“Yes, with sunscreen,” I agreed, laughing. A few years ago, in less happy times for Jacoby and me, my skin took a bit of a beating in the California sun. “Speaking of which, I don’t think we can travel with enough for the entire month. We’ll need to make a Wal-Mart run once we get out there. We’re not bringing shampoo and stuff because you can only bring three ounces still, and that’s not enough for a month.”

“Tell me what to get and it’ll be here for you; you aren’t going to feel up to shopping after a seven hour flight with two kids.”

“That’s true, I hadn’t thought about. I’ll email a list and we’ll pay you back when we get there.”

“You will email a list and not pay us back,” she corrected and I sighed. She means well, but I can’t let her spend this kind of money on us. I started to explain my feelings, but she interrupted me. “Jimmy, I understand where you’re coming from, okay? Your dad and I went through similar financial rough patches when we had you guys and both my parents and your dad’s parents helped out where they could. What they said then holds true now: ‘we have it, let us help’. You guys have made great strides with your hospital bills and everything, but you still have expensive things to keep on hand. So, let us help, okay? We’ve got diapers for Priscilla, too, so just bring enough for the plane. We got a small pack for now and we’ll get more once you’re settled here. I know she’s having growth spurts, so we’re going to see how these diapers fit first.”

“You know we can never thank you enough, right mom?” I asked, sinking onto the bed with a watery smile on my face.

“I know. And you don’t have to.”

***

“Grandma!”

“Eliza! Stay with us!” I hollered and my daughter stopped trying to run away from me. The Los Angeles airport is not a small place and I don’t want her to get lost. “Don’t run away in a crowd like this!”

“Sorry, daddy,” she said, taking my hand once again. We were sandwiched in between several hundred people just getting off flights of their own and no one was in a good mood. Priscilla had cried half of the flight from Omaha to Phoenix, and we were ever so glad when she went to sleep from Phoenix to Los Angeles. We’d taken turns taking her into the bathroom so people could have quiet, but then Eliza got sick and she was crying. If we’re able to fly home and not be kicked off the plane for good, I’ll be shocked.

“Welcome home!” dad said, smiling as he took Priscilla’s carrier from Jacoby. We were both relieved to see my folks and his mom to say the least. Jeanette scooped Eliza into her arms and hugged her granddaughter tightly, while we juggled luggage and made sure we had everything. “How was the flight?”

“Oh, don’t even get me started,” I mumbled angrily as we moved into the warm California evening. We’d landed just around seven at night, and I was never so glad to get somewhere in my life. He flashed me a concerned look and I sighed, pulling a suitcase behind me. “I’m sorry, dad, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that we didn’t have a very good flight with these two.”

“It’s okay. Remember, we raised three kids,” he reminded me, and I smiled, nodding. We were also starving, which didn’t help matters at all, of course. Eliza was currently in whiny mode and I just wanted to get to mom and dad’s and relax. “Now, your mom decided to make a crock pot recipe tonight, so we can eat as soon as we get home. Will everyone be okay to wait? I know you and Jacoby probably haven’t eaten much on the plane.”

“That’s fine. I don’t want to take Eliza in a restaurant right now, with how she’s acting. Jimmy, do we have any snacks left over for her?”

I opened our carryon bag and searched for the bag of cereal we’d brought. Thankfully, there were still a few bites left and I figured it would be enough to pacify her on the drive home. Without traffic, it takes 40 minutes to get to Huntington Beach; with traffic, that gets up over an hour, and I don’t want the girls sleeping.

“Here, honey, try these,” I said, placing a few bits of cereal in her hand. She ate them, but I knew she wasn’t happy. “So, what are we having for supper?”

“Latina chicken with sweet potatoes,” mom said and I swear I started to drool. It might not sound good, but trust me, this is the best stuff on earth. I got the recipe from mom and have made a couple of times, and it’s always a big hit with the girls and Jacoby. Priscilla is able to eat a few of the sweet potatoes because they get so soft in the cooking process. “I know it’s something we all like, so I made a double batch.”

“It’s tasty,” Eliza said and we all laughed. The stress of the plane ride started melting away, and I relaxed a little. “Sissy likes the potatoes.”

“I know. We made some plain just for her,” my dad said, and I smiled; I said Priscilla could eat the potatoes…but her stomach doesn’t like the broth the meat cooks in because of the spices in it. I don’t want her to feel miserable her first night at Grandma and Grandpa Sullivan’s house.

“How long are you staying mom?” Jacoby asked, looking over to his mom. She was nearing retirement age now, but was still working part time.

“I’m staying here in HB two weeks; Jimmy’s folks have refused to let me get a hotel, so I agreed to stay at the house. Then, I have to go back and work, but will see you guys when you come down for your last week here. When we get back to the house, I want to talk to you about something as well.”

She discreetly indicated Eliza and I understood that the conversation wasn’t for small, excitable ears. No doubt, mom wants a day with the girls, but if we can’t make it work for some reason, we don’t want anyone disappointed. If Jacoby’s mom wanted a day with the girls, we’d make it happen somehow.

“Stay awake honey,” Jacoby said, nudging Eliza. I cringed; if she falls asleep now, we’re screwed when it’s actually bed time. I know she’s jetlagged and stuff, but I don’t want to take any chances. “We’re almost home.”

Amazingly, he was right. The freeway tonight wasn’t nearly as busy as usual, and I wondered why. We were probably 20 miles from HB right now and it was all smooth sailing.

“Everyone seems to be slowing down,” mom commented, and I looked out the windshield to see she was right. The interstate had turned into a sea of brake lights in front of us. “I wonder what’s going on.”

I shrugged, looking around me at the cars, a sight you don’t see much of in Iowa. Sure the interstates can get clogged, but not like they do out here. Then, I saw the familiar flashing lights of an ambulance. By now, dad had stopped and Jacoby and I quickly jumped out of the car. I’d grabbed a separate carryon out of habit, loading it with our badges and stethoscopes and we bolted up the interstate, only to be stopped by police.

“We’re paramedics, we can help,” I told the officer, flashing my badge at him. He wasn’t convinced, but he let us go anyway. “Good grief.”

We snapped into EMT mode immediately, and thankfully, I recognized one of the medics on scene. I worked with her during a brief stint at UC Irvine Medical Center.

“Madyson!” I shouted and she waved us over. “Where can we help?”

It didn’t take long for us to be knee deep in the accident scene. It wasn’t the worst wreck I’ve seen, but it was still bad. Four cars and a semi, it looks like, though I couldn’t see an immediate reason for the accident. Still, Jacoby and I went to work, doing what we did best, and before long we were both in ambulances, helping transport patients.

“How are we going to get to HB?” Jacoby asked an hour later and I realized that traffic had been diverted around the accident. I’m sure mom and dad had no choice but to go where the police instructed them to. Besides that, we were both at Huntington Beach Hospital. We’d been helping out in the ER with triage and treatment and now our jobs were done. “I bet your parents got diverted.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, looking around. A nurse came over with water and I accepted the bottle with thanks. The ER was quieting down now, as patients were moved to surgery or a ward or sent home. “I suppose we can just call them and if all else fails get a ride in a cab or something.”

The nurse looked up as she worked on a chart, which I had to sign off on and asked where we were from.

“We’re visiting here from Iowa,” I explained, as I finally got to sit down. The maroon chairs were very comfortable and my back was aching. “We’re visiting our families but when we saw the wreck, we had to help.”

She smiled, her teeth bright white, and her grey eyes sparkling a bit. “I know how you feel. I always have to stop and help with accidents; it’s the nurse in me. If you need me to get a ride to somewhere, we have staff that live here in HB and will be getting off work soon.”

“Let me call mom first and see where they got diverted to, but otherwise, that would be great,” I said, and she stood, no doubt off to find us a ride. I dialed mom’s number, surprised she hadn’t called by now. “Mom?”

“Jimmy, where did you two end up? We’re at the house now, but we can come get you,” she said, and she sounded slightly worried.

“We’re at HB Hospital,” I said, as the nurse returned. I tried to crack my back a little but it didn’t help anymore than the warning slap on my shoulder from Jacoby; I’m not supposed to crack my own back. “We can either get a ride from someone here or you can come get us, it’s up to you.”

“I’m already in the car, so I’ll come get you. I have to go out and get milk, so I’ll be there shortly. I grabbed a change of clothes each, but I wasn’t sure if you’d need them.”

“We do, but we’ll shower first,” I said, smiling. She said she’d pick us up shortly and I thanked her before hanging up. “Mom was already out, so she’s on her way. You have a great ER here!”

“Thanks. We’re no UCI, but we do a good job with what we get. I know there were a lot of people flown to UCI tonight, but you guys made a big difference. Thanks for all your help.”

“No problem,” I said, standing and stretching. We were almost out the door when someone called to us. I had to laugh when I heard ‘Iowa paras! Wait!’. A tall man with a thick waist and an official looking face was running toward us. “Yes, sir?”

“I never got your names. I’m Devin McKellan, director of emergency services here,” he explained, his partially bald head glistening with sweat. I’d seen him helping out in the ER, but hadn’t thought much of it. “You were good enough to help, and I need your names.”

Jacoby smiled, politely declining any reward we might be offered. “We were only doing our jobs,” he said, but Devin insisted and in the end, we couldn’t say no.

“Thank you. You’re in HB for three weeks you said?” I nodded, smiling, though I didn’t want any reward from this man. “Great. You boys enjoy your vacation now.”

We nodded, then headed out to mom’s car in desperate need of a shower. As soon as we were in, mom going on about how proud she was and what a great son she’s raised and how amazing Jacoby was. We were both blushing madly, and quite glad to return to the house, where we made a beeline for the shower.

37

Our vacation has stayed quiet since its eventful start. Mom took the girls for a day and allowed Jimmy and I a chance to relax and take some time for ourselves. His parents did the same thing, and he and I had more chances to relax than ever. We even started planning Priscilla’s first birthday party, which mom and Jimmy’s folks were coming out for. I was nervous when Jimmy spent a day with his friends without me (I’d do the same thing later with my friends), but he’s got his feelings under control and Brian and Michelle are now happily married.

“Bye mom,” I said, hugging her one last time. It was time to head home and get ready to ship Eliza back to school. “We had a great vacation and we’ll see you in October, right?”

“I’ll be there,” she said, and then took Priscilla for one more cuddle. “You be good, okay, kiddo? Grow big and strong for Grandma.”

Eventually, our parents let us all go and we moved through security. In just over seven hours, we’d be in Hank’s truck, on our way home, and I could not wait. I love being out here, but there’s nothing like being back home. Every time we come out here, we get homesick for California, but we know we’d never be happy here. We tried that once and it didn’t work.

“I can’t wait to get home,” I said to my husband, as we finally boarded our flight. I hope the kids are better behaved this time. “I love visiting, but I miss our bed and our routines with the girls.”

Jimmy nodded, as we got Eliza settled into her seat and I buckled Priscilla’s car seat into the extra seat we had. Eliza loved looking out the window, so we give her the window, and put Priscilla next to me with Jimmy between the girls. I was hoping for naps, considering we had to take a 9pm flight, and if they fall asleep, we’ll make it work when we get home. We’re both good at carrying sleeping children into the house, but we have to get them out of the Omaha airport first.

“Hey, Coby, we’re home,” Jimmy’s voice pulled me out of sleep and I blinked. I must’ve fallen asleep after our layover in Phoenix. “The girls are sound asleep and I’ve got our stuff so we can be last off.”

I nodded, undoing my seatbelt and standing. Jimmy handed me one of the backpacks and I slipped it over my shoulders, thinking it weighed a small ton. I know it’s got snacks and stuff in it, and our stethoscopes, but it still feels like it weighs a ton.

“You know, I’m glad you decided to bring our stethoscopes,” I said, as we walked forward toward the gangplank. I had Priscilla’s carrier hanging from my arm, and I watched as she shifted in her sleep. “I know it was silly, but it helped.”

We only helped at the one accident, but despite my protests to bringing the damn things, it worked in our favor. Jimmy nodded, as Eliza shifted a bit in his arms, but remained asleep. We were trying to stay quiet, but we couldn’t control the noise of the crowded airport. Thankfully, at two in the morning, there aren’t a lot of people in the Omaha airport, so we got through to baggage claim quickly. Hank and Anthony were waiting for us and took the girls from us while we juggled our suitcases.

“How was the flight?” Hank asked quietly, as we moved outside. It was damn humid and I was about to answer Hank when Jimmy’s lungs decided to pitch a fit.

“Fuck,” I muttered, as my husband sat down on the sidewalk. I rummaged through his pockets for his inhaler and gave him the first hit. I should’ve been prepared for this, after all; the dry air in California and the return to humid air in Iowa never works in his favor. “Please start breathing Jim.”

He kept wheezing, however, even after the second hit of his inhaler and I sighed. The girls really need to get home. We managed to get Priscilla here without using her portable unit, but had started it up before we came outside; the humidity doesn’t do her any favors, either.

“We’ll drop you two at the ER and take the girls home,” Anthony said, as Hank brought the truck around. The girls were buckled in and then we got Jimmy in the front. I knew we were in hock when the few steps to the truck winded him. “Is it the humidity?”

“Yep. This happens every time but I wasn’t as prepared as usual,” I lamented, hanging my head. I was exhausted, despite sleeping on the plane, but Hank shook his head at me, as he headed for Creighton.

“It’s not your fault. You guys usually get home much earlier and it’s more humid than usual right now,” he told me. I couldn’t disagree, as lightning lit up the sky. What a welcome home. “You take care of Jimmy and we’ll take care of the girls. I’ll come back once we have the girls tucked in at home, okay?”

“I’ll come back,” Anthony said, as Hank yawned. The man is in his 80s, after all, and has never been a night person. “You’re tired, Hank.”

He nodded, as he pulled into Creighton’s ER parking lot. I got out and grabbed a wheelchair, waving to one of the night nurses. Alyssa came out and helped me with Jimmy, while Anthony changed Hank spots so he could drive. Hank would sleep on our couch tonight, because I have a feeling Jimmy’s not going home. We’re off for another three days, but I didn’t want to spend them at work.

“Thanks for your help, Alyssa. We literally just got back from California and the humidity hit him when we walked outside.”

“No problem. You get him checked in and I’ll get the on-call in here,” she said, hooking oxygen up. Jimmy squirmed because he doesn’t like the feel of the nasal cannula against his skin, but she got him calmed down. “Jimmy, it’s Alyssa, honey. Let the oxygen work for you.”

I ducked out and quickly got him checked in, returning in time for x-ray to show up as well. I don’t know why they’re getting a chest x-ray, because it’s just an asthma attack, but whatever. Once the x-ray was over, I moved inside, seeing that my husband had an IV started.

“I hate these—gowns,” he wheezed at me and I nodded, sinking onto a very uncomfortable chair. I was miserable with lack of sleep and being on an airplane, and now Jimmy wasn’t feeling well.

“Don’t talk, okay? Save your air,” I told him, and I knew I sounded grumpy. One of the night respiratory techs came in and started a breathing treatment, clearly sensing the tension in the air. “Just relax okay?”

“I’m—sorry I can’t—breathe,” he told me, but I waved him quiet and leaned against the wall. I know what’s going to happen next and I was right. He gets upset in moments like this and he started wheezing more, causing me to get up and go to his bed.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m running on not much good sleep, it’s late, and I’m sorry,” I said, before the tears could start. He finally calmed down, and I breathed with relief. If the breathing treatment works, we can go home; if not, he’s going to be spending the night and I’m heading home alone.

The door to the white room opened quietly and Anthony walked in, limping a little. The storm was causing his leg to hurt again, from when he’d broken it a few years ago in an accident. I was glad to see him, as he closed the metal door and glanced at Jimmy, tucked into the bed in the corner.

“How’s he doing?” Tony asked, sitting next to me. These chairs have to be a hundred years old, with their plastic “cushions” and peeling green and grey paint.

“Well, I was grumpy, so he got worked up, but he’s calm now. We’re just waiting for the doctor,” I explained, as the tech returned. I hate their all black uniforms, because I always think they look like death walking in.

“I’m going to turn your oxygen up a little Jimmy,” she said, and once that was done, she left again.

I leaned against the cold, white wall, and closed my eyes, wishing I was home with my girls. If Anthony was back already, that meant an hour had passed, and it was an hour I wasn’t sleeping. With a sigh, I forced my tired eyes open, looking up in time for Dr. Callahan to come in. Thankfully, this was Jimmy’s normal pulmonologist, so he wouldn’t have a stranger treating him.

“Good morning. I thought you two were in California,” he said, as he took his black stethoscope from around his neck. You can always tell when the doctor has come from home based on their attire: the jeans, t-shirt, and sandals are not standard, trust me.

“We got in about an hour ago,” I explained, as I sat up a bit. I was still attempting to stay awake, but I had to hear what the doctor said. “He walked out into the humidity and that was the end of him.”

“This happens every year,” the doctor said, then listened to Jimmy’s lungs. When he stood back, he frowned. “Well, he’s having a bad attack this time. It’s verging on an exacerbation to be honest. I’m going to admit him for observation right now, and if he’s doing better by three this afternoon, he can go home. If not, he’s going to be here for a couple of days. I want to run some more tests and we might have to work with his medications.”

I nodded, understanding that this was just a precaution. As badly as Jimmy’s breathing right now, he’s not going to get cleared to go home. I had texted his folks as soon as I could that we were home, but now I’d get to call them later this morning with news that Jimmy is in the hospital. Can our lives get any worse right now?

***

I finally got to bed at five. Anthony drove me home and I didn’t even bother undressing; I just fell into bed fully clothed. Jimmy had been admitted to ICU for the night, so I knew things were especially bad. I was beyond grateful for Hank, who took care of the kids for me while I slept most of the day. When I finally got up at three, I panicked, realizing I had to go get Jimmy. But when I got downstairs after a hurried shower, Hank told me not to worry. Jimmy was not getting out today, because he’d had a worse attack around noon and the doctor wanted to keep him another couple of days.

“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping into a kitchen chair. I rubbed my face and sighed, as a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast was placed in front of me. I wasn’t that hungry, but I needed to eat. “I need to call Joe and Barb.”

“Already called them, and they said to keep them updated,” Hank assured me, rubbing my back. “Now, eat, and we’ll go visit Jimmy. The girls are allowed, since it’s just an exacerbation and not anything catchy.”

I nodded, and quickly ate my food. I didn’t think I was hungry, but in the end, I was hungrier than I thought. When I was done, we got the girls ready and hurried into Omaha, as I watched storm clouds gather on the horizon. I guess we’re in for an evening of storms again, which Jimmy would love, if he wasn’t so damn sick.

“Cheer up. He’s going to be fine, Jacoby. He had to have his annual attack, you know. I know it was worse than usual, but we knew this was going to happen, okay? The doctor said he’s going to tweak his meds and see if that helps. He’s been on the same meds for the last 10 years, and times have changed.”

I nodded, as the cornfields of home gave way to the concrete buildings of the city. The storm was getting worse and it wasn’t even here yet. I could already see a wall of rain and I swear I saw rotation in the clouds. Eliza was getting a little scared, so I turned in my seat and held her hand, which was the best I could do. I was worried about Jimmy more than the weather, after all, but I still had to be there for my children.

“Now, when we go inside, we all have to be quiet,” I said, helping Eliza from her purple car seat once Hank was parked. She jumped when thunder rumbled and I picked her up. “It’s okay, Baby Girl. It’s just thunder.”

She didn’t believe me, of course, and buried her face in my neck, whimpering. Hank brought Priscilla and we got inside right as it started to rain. Hail pelted the windows of the ER and I caught sight of Sean ushering everyone into shelter.

“Come on, guys. There’s tornado warning for Douglas County. You can see Jimmy when the all clear is sounded.”

We followed him into one of the larger interior rooms in the ER, where everyone was huddled around the nurse’s station. We had a couple of patients in the ER, and they would be protected in their rooms, where nurses would stay with them. I knew the wards were mobilizing and would keep the patients safe, but I wanted to be with Jimmy.

“It’s loud,” Eliza complained, starting to cry. I held her close as the storm crashed around us, listening to the hail pelt the roof and the wind as it whipped around the building. I was really hoping there wasn’t a tornado, but from the sounds outside, I wasn’t going to get my wish.

“Tornado is on the ground and heading west into the Creighton area of Omaha, on track for downtown,” the weather radio intoned, and I shuddered a little. Eliza was going to hyperventilate soon, if I couldn’t calm her down. “Take shelter as this is a dangerous storm.”

“Honey, breathe for daddy,” I said, gently massaging Eliza’s back. She’s got a touch of asthma herself, though she’s not as bad yet as Jimmy. “It’s just a storm, honey, it’s okay, we’re safe.”

She was sobbing now, and was shaking she was so scared. Just when I thought she was going to end up a patient, it got quiet outside, and we all waited. The station was crowded, as we huddled on the floor, and I rocked my daughter back and forth. Sean finally took her from me, whispering to her to calm down and she finally relaxed and fell asleep.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he continued to gently rock her. It was still quiet outside and finally, the all clear sounded. “What a welcome home.”

38

Thankfully, hospital doors are wide enough to accommodate hospital beds. That means that during the tornado warning (and I saw the funnel cloud right outside my window…wish I’d had my damn camera), I didn’t have to get out of bed. They just hooked me up to portable oxygen and out the door I went, bed and all. There was no way I could’ve walked anyway; I don’t have the air.

“Everyone is accounted for,” the charge nurse announced, as she looked us all over. This floor had 12 beds and all of them were full tonight. As such, the nurse’s station was a crowded area, but with the patient room doors shut, we were safer than we’d have otherwise been. “Ariana, can you still see the rhythms?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit uncomfortable since I’m boxed in by beds, but I’ll manage,” their telemetry tech, who watched the heart monitors, responded. I glanced at the little box tucked into the pocket of my gown, then over at the boards, finding my rhythm, since I was close to her monitors. It was a little fast, but otherwise normal. They were monitoring me because of the steroids I was receiving for the asthma exacerbation.

I listened to the chatter around me, since there were some visitors here as well. I had my cell phone, which I had grabbed before they moved me, and texted Jacoby, but got no response. I hope they’re in a shelter as well, and not trying to come down here to see me. I’m going to be here a few days, after all, so when the weather clears, we can visit.

“Tornado is on the ground and heading west into the Creighton area of Omaha, on track for downtown,” the weather radio announced. As much as I love storms, I’ll admit this made me nervous. I felt my heart skip a beat and looked up in time to see the skipped beat go by on the screen. “Take shelter as this is a dangerous storm.”

“I hope Jacoby is at home with the girls,” I muttered, and heard someone agree. I turned to see my nurse for the day, Alicia, standing at my side.

“If not, I’m sure he knows what to do,” she assured me, rubbing my back a little. I noticed that we were both watching my heart rate, which had sped up just a bit. “Take a deep breath for me and slowly let it out.”

I complied, even though pulling that breath in was almost impossible at this point. I was able to speak without becoming so winded, but I still wasn’t breathing very well. The oxygen was helping, but now would be a very bad time to have an attack.

“You need to calm down hon,” Alicia said, and I saw her wave another nurse over, as I started wheezing more. My breath heaved in my chest, as I tried to breathe, but no dice. I wasn’t worked up over the storm anymore, but I was having another attack and now was a very bad time for an attack. Of course, I have no control over that. “Aquanda, should I call respiratory?”

“I would. We’ll figure out how to make it work.”

Alicia nodded, and I watched her dial for a breathing treatment, as the lights flickered and the building shook a little. I placed a shaking hand on one of the side rails and the other in the hand of the second nurse. I was scared right now, because I couldn’t breathe and the weather was getting worse. I was getting lightheaded, and my chest was hurting just a little bit before I registered a familiar sensation. There was a mask over my nose and mouth and a familiar hiss sounded, indicating that a breathing treatment had begun.

“Breathe, hon, you’re sats are pretty low,” Alicia coached, and I registered the slight pressure of the pulse oximeter on my finger. “They’re in the upper 70s, low 80s. I want you to get to 90 for me.”

I tried to breathe for her and finally I felt a huge breath pull in and slowly release from me. Maybe I was finally turning the corner here with my damn lungs. I watched the heart monitors through blurry eyes, but I could see that my heart rate was coming down. Alicia was smiling, so my pulse ox must be coming back up. It was finally easier to breathe, as the lights flickered, went off for a moment, and then came back on. The all clear was sounded shortly after, and patients were returned to their rooms.

“How are you feeling?” Alicia asked, as she transferred my oxygen back to the wall and I took another good deep breath.

“Better,” I said coughing a little. The breathing treatment ended, and the tech returned to take my pulse. Without looking at the monitors over my head, I knew things were improved.

“I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?” she asked, and I nodded, as she left the room. I hate being in ICU, because it’s expensive for one thing, but also because there’s very little privacy. The rooms are designed with windows that face the main nurse’s station, so they can keep a very close eye on us. I understand why, but it sucks at the same time.

“Daddy!”

I looked over at the door and broke into a huge smile as Eliza came running for the bed. Jacoby told her not to jump onto the bed, because of the IVs, and she stopped just in time. Instead, she came around to the right side, where there were no IVs to worry about and crawled into bed with me, snuggling into my side. I used my fingers to brush her long blond hair, and she smiled, tightening her hold on me a little.

“How are you, Baby Girl?” I asked, looking down at her.

“I’m good. The storm was scary,” she said, and I nodded, remembering how badly storms scared her. I have a feeling she hadn’t had a good time. “We hided with Sean under a big desk!”

I laughed, relieved that they’d been somewhere safe. ER was a fairly safe place to be during a storm, and I was able to relax a little more now. Jacoby and Hank came to my bed, Priscilla secure in her carrier, and I reached for her.

“Hell of a welcome home, huh?” Jacoby asked, as he placed our youngest in my arms. She cooed at me, reaching a tiny fist up for my glasses. She was faster than I, and Jacoby was quick to rescue the black frames before she chewed them to death. “Those are expensive, honey. Daddy brought you a teething ring.”

Hank dug around in the black backpack we used for a diaper bag and produced a soft ring which Priscilla immediately aimed for the right side of her mouth. I’m so proud of her for making the progress she has of late. She’s still a little behind in some areas, but overall, she’s doing so much better than she was before. She sat on my lap, happily chewing and drooling as the adults visited and Eliza slept.

“How are you feeling?” Hank asked, as Alicia brought in a couple of chairs. “You look better.”

“I’m feeling better, too,” I said, smiling. Priscilla started to squirm and whimper and I asked Jacoby for a diaper. While we talked, I changed the little diaper she wore, hoping to make her comfortable again. “During the storm, I had another attack—“ I paused to breathe. “But during the breathing treatment, I felt relief from the weight on my chest. I’m not out of the woods yet, but getting there.”

The diaper was quickly discarded in the bedside trash and then I snapped on the new diaper, using a wipe to clean my hands. My daughter’s smile returned to her face and I positioned her to face the room again.

“You’re certainly wheezing less and able to talk,” Hank observed and I nodded, wiping Priscilla’s chin. Teething is hard on her skin, and I could see that she was getting chapped again. “When we dropped you and Jacoby off, you couldn’t even say one word.”

“I know, I barely remember getting here,” I admitted, as Eliza shifted a bit in her sleep. A late afternoon nap doesn’t always benefit her, but we weren’t going to say a word today, considering the storm. “I just woke up in ICU and I was very confused for a while. I’ve got a good nurse, though, she got me orientated. I wasn’t planning on a big storm, of course, or having two more attacks today, but what can ya do?”

Jacoby nodded, and I could see the relief on his face that I was okay. We’d had such a good vacation, and we knew what was going to happen the second I walked into a humid Iowa night, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise. In the years that we’ve been going to California, I always come out of the airport, head to the ER for a breathing treatment and then head home. We’ve gotten lucky a few times and I could treat the attack at home, but for the most part, I end up at least in our ER.

“Hopefully we can get you home in a few days,” Jacoby said, and I nodded, coughing a bit. Eliza jerked awake and watched me with wide eyes, no doubt scared that I was going to stop breathing or something. It wasn’t easy to breathe, of course, but I managed to get myself under control. “I guess this is why you’re still here.”

I nodded, as Alicia came back in and checked my pulse ox again, frowning. I knew it was down and I was trying to bring it back up. I pulled in the best breath I could, but I knew it wasn’t enough, as I dissolved into another attack. This is getting very tiresome, especially as my family was ushered out of the room. I could hear Eliza asking what was going on and I felt bad for scaring her.

“Breathe, Jimmy,” Alicia coached and I finally pulled in a deep breath. It was getting closer to time for my meds, and I couldn’t wait. As soon as my sats were where she wanted them, she said she’d be back. Sure enough, I was handed the little pill that I needed, and she worked with the IVs as well. “I’ll send your family back in for a minute, but I think you should rest.”

I nodded, as she left again. Jacoby returned with the girls and I hugged them goodbye, then waited until Hank had taken them out. I kissed my husband, holding him tight. I hated being away from my family, but right now this is the best place for me to be.

“I love you,” I whispered and he nodded, returning the sentiment.

He squeezed me a bit and then turned and walked out, though I knew he hated leaving. With a sigh, I settled against my pillows and drifted to sleep.

***

Two days later, I made some progress: I got transferred to a medical floor. The doctor said I can go home when I can walk in the hall without oxygen and keep my sats at 95% or higher. So far, I can walk a short distance and keep at 90%, but then it drops and I have to ride in a wheelchair back to my room. The doctor is not sure what’s going on or why this is worse than usual, but he’s determined that I’m not going home until I’m all better. I’m getting frustrated, but I have to remember that these things take time.

“Hey Jim,” a voice said from the doorway and I looked up from my book to see Hollister and Randy standing there. I know her husband fairly well after all these years and I waved them in. “How are you doing?”

“Great until I have to start walking,” I told her, as they got chairs and sat down. I was sitting in the bedside chair, wrapped in a blanket since I’m always cold when I’m in the hospital. “How are you guys doing?”

“Not bad. We’ve been helping Jacoby with your bountiful harvest; those gardens are in rare form this summer!” Randy said and I smiled, though it was bittersweet. “But don’t worry, because they’re not done yet. We got a bunch of tomatoes and stuff in last night and he’s ready for the Farmer’s Market tonight. Hank’s doing pretty good, too. Eliza and Priscilla are going to come hang with us while those two go sell stuff.”

“Eliza will love that. I bet she asks for a horse ride first thing,” I predicted. My daughter loved horses and was begging us for one. The problem is that horses are expensive to buy and expensive to keep, so we have to say no for now. “She loves your horses.”

Hollister smiled, nodding, as she dug for something in her purse. Quickly, she brandished her camera and I hoped she wasn’t going to photograph me. That’d be a great picture: blue and white flowered hospital gown, matching pants that are too short and too big, and oxygen tubing in my nose, not to mention a severe case of bed head. I haven’t been able to walk to the shower yet, so the girls are letting be bathe at the sink and use a special cap to wash my hair. Needless to say, I want a real damn shower soon.

“Look,” she said, handing me the small digital. “Eliza was over the other day while Jacoby was at work; Hank had something in town, so we watched her.”

“Wow,” I breathed, seeing my daughter astride Ingrid, the newest horse at the Michealson farm. She was sitting on her perfectly, holding the reins with Randy behind her. Her purple helmet was perched securely on her head and she had the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. “I’m sorry I missed that.”

“Don’t worry, because she’s going to be there more often. We made a deal with her and Jacoby,” Hollister explained and I paused the pictures to look at her; I hadn’t been consulted. “You were pretty out of it still when this happened. We know how badly Eliza wants a horse and we know that you guys can’t afford it, nor do you have the time. So, Randy told her that if she helps take care of Ingrid, she can ride her and Ingrid can be “hers”, if you will. She’ll stay at our place, of course, and Eliza will have to come to our house to care for her, but she was very excited.”

I had to smile because it was hard to be angry about that. “That’s fine with me. She’s wanted a horse for so long, but we just can’t do it. I know horses are all you do, Randy, so I appreciate this. How do we work out her duties?”

“We’re going to set up a schedule with you guys when we have a chance. Hank has her most days, so he’s going to be in on it, too. I’ll come down and get her and if Priscilla and Hank want to come, all the better. We know the heat is hard on Priscilla, so I’ll leave that up to Hank until she’s older. Eliza will have to brush the horse, help fill the feed buckets, and other things that are safe and easy. If there’s ever a problem with the horse, Eliza will be excused until I think it’s safe for her to return.”

“Thank you,” I said, because what else could I say? He’d made my daughter happy and that was all I could ask for.

39

“DADDY!”

I bolted upright in bed, trying to pin down the source of the scream. Priscilla can’t quite get the lung power up for that yet, Jimmy’s still in the hospital, and it’s not the cats. Therefore, my brain thinks it’s Eliza.

“DADDY!”

That’s Eliza. I bolted from my bed and into her room, hastily turning on the light, which blinded us both. But for heaven’s sake, it’s four in the morning and she’s screaming. She was sitting up in bed, tears streaming from her eyes and she looked up to me.

“I sawed a ghost!” she screamed, and I sat on the bed with her, taking her in my arms. “It was right there!”

She was pointing to the foot of her bed and I furrowed my brow in confusion. There was nothing there now, nor did I recall there being anything there when I came in here. Of course, I was in quite a rush, so I might’ve scared the “ghost” away, but still. I took a deep breath, rubbing her back until she calmed down.

“What did the ghost look like?” I asked, deciding to play along. I don’t believe in ghosts and spirits and stuff, so this is better suited to my husband. Hopefully, he’ll be coming home today or tomorrow, since he’s finally meeting the criteria for discharge.

“It was tall,” she said, and I resisted the urge sigh; that didn’t help me much. “And it had curly hair, and long arms and it was smiling. It was even wearing glasses.”

Curly hair, long arms, a smile, glasses…I sucked in a breath; that sounds like Eleanor. But Eleanor is dead, why would she be haunting our house? Nothing weird has happened of late, or at least nothing that can’t be chalked up to having four cats, two children, and Jimmy. I looked down at Eliza, wondering if it was possible for the ghost to be our neighbor.

“Was the ghost nice?” I asked, and Eliza nodded, her reddish-brown hair falling a bit into her eyes. This child is the spitting image of Jimmy, I swear. “Did the ghost talk?”

“No, she just stood there. She was wearing a dress, though, daddy, just like grandma.”

When she said grandma, I knew she meant Eleanor. My mom rarely wears dresses and Jimmy’s mom only wears them for church or dress. Eleanor, on the other hand, wore a dress most days because that’s the generation she’s from.

“Could you see a design on the dress?”

Eliza nodded again. “It was white, but the ghost was all white, too. It had blue flowers on it and blue buttons here,” she said, indicating her chest. “It was very pretty. She looked like grandma, too.”

I nodded, recognizing the description of one of Eleanor’s “everyday” dresses. I don’t believe in ghosts for a second, but if Eliza does, that’s fine. It’s certainly possible that she dreamed about Eleanor, at least.

“It sounds like you have a guardian angel,” I told her, tucking her in. She nodded, smiling, as her eyes drifted shut. I turned the light out and quietly closed the door, wondering what she was really seeing in her room. Since we remodeled the house, it’s pretty hard for anything to get in, although we do get a mouse now and then in the fall, when the harvest begins.

I returned to bed after a detour to the bathroom, still pondering my daughter’s “ghost”. If it is Eleanor, then I’m not worried, since she’s just watching out for my daughter. If she’s seeing someone or something else, it’s just her imagination…hell, I think this is her imagination, honestly. But, she’s four, and I’m not going to be the one to break the news to her. We’ll have Jimmy talk to her when he gets home and feels better, and that will be the end of the matter.

***

It was not, as my luck would have it, the end of the matter. Jimmy came home the day after the “ghost” incident, fully recovered from his exacerbation. He was under orders to take it easy and stay inside for a few days, but we could live with that. I could garden and when the humidity is lower, he can come out and garden with me. He does have to wear a mask outside on extremely humid days, but that’s fine.

“So, what’s this about a ghost?” he asked, sitting at the table with me. Both girls were napping and we were taking advantage of the down time to plan out a few meals for the week. He was understandably tired of hospital food, since he’d been in for over a week, so I was trying to find something different for him.

“Well, the other night, at four in the morning, I hear Eliza screaming. I got up and she described this “ghost” that was standing at the foot of the bed. I think she just had a dream, but she’s four. Anyway, it sounded like Eleanor, from her description. I don’t believe in such things, so thought you were better suited to tackle this one,” I said, handing him a recipe card. It was for lasagna, something I know he only got once while he was there. “That work?”

“Lasagna? Sounds good to me,” he agreed, nodding. I watched him fiddle with the tape on his hand, finally peeling it away and discarding the cotton ball it had held down. The IV had been out for a few hours now, so he wouldn’t bleed to death on me. “But about this ghost. I believe in them, you know. It’s possible Eleanor is just watching over her. Has anything strange happened around here?”

“Nothing that I can’t explain,” I told him, handing him another card. He can’t get Mississippi River Boat chicken in the hospital, that’s for certain. “Things have moved or fallen down, but we do have four active cats and two active children.”

The cats chose them to come running through, chasing some toy or other, and just as quickly skidded out of the kitchen, off in search of other past times. I had to laugh, considering Ma and Pa were getting up there in years and weren’t always in shape anymore to run with their younger companions. Today was different, apparently, as Ma went tearing after Hamlet and tackled him in the living room.

“Let’s make that tonight,” Jimmy said, waving the chicken recipe at me. I nodded, rifling through more cards to see what else looked good. “True. Next time she wakes up to the ghost, I’ll go in there and see what’s up. Did I just see chicken roll ups go by?”

I pulled that recipe out as well and added it to the pile. We had more recipes then we need for the week, since I have to work Thursday yet, but this will work. Because Jimmy is off work until a week from Monday (I thought that was too long, but the doctor made the decision, not me), Hank’s going to come help him with child care, and they can make some of these for dinner.

“There. That’s just over a week’s worth of recipes,” I told him, leaning back in my chair. He nodded, flipping through the selections. “You and Hank can make some for dinner and we’ll make some for supper, too.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, around a yawn. He’s always over-tired the first couple of days home from the hospital, especially if he’s been in with his lungs. “I’m going to go lay down, if you don’t care.”

“Get some rest,” I told him, kissing him. We held each other for a moment, then parted. “I’m going to get going on the lawn; it needs mowing and I know you’re not up to it yet.”

“Sadly, no,” he agreed, as I walked him upstairs. I know I’m hovering, but I can’t help it. “I’ll be fine. You go mow and I’ll sleep. Eliza knows to wake me up if I’m not downstairs.”

“You sure? You did just get home.”

He gave my shoulder a playful shove and then shooed me out the door, while he got comfortable in bed. I hated leaving him so soon after he got home, but he’s right; he’ll be fine. I changed into an old pair of tennis shoes, then made my way outside, heading for the shed we keep the mower in. After the big storms ended, we’ve really had some nice weather of late and I hope it stays that way. Our lawn grows twice as fast when it rains and it’s hard enough to keep up with it now. We only have two acres to ourselves, but still.

I got the mower out and started it, then headed for the usual starting point on the west edge of our property. The sun was out, I was protected from burning and my phone was on vibrate in case Jimmy had any problems. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about, but I still worry. When he’s been home for a day or two, I won’t worry, but he’s been home about four hours.

Halfway through mowing, my phone vibrated, which made me nervous. I paused for a drink of water, reading the text as I did so. I was relieved when it was nothing serious, just Jimmy asking where I’d stuck the raisins for the girls. I told him where to look, then resumed mowing, after getting a text back stating Calm down, I’m fine!. Chastised as he had no doubt planned, I finished the mowing in three and a half hours, cutting half an hour off his time.

“You smell,” he told me, when I walked in. I agreed and headed downstairs to shower and change. “I’m making supper!”

“Sounds good!” I hollered back, and hopped in the shower, eager to wash the grime and grass off me. I don’t know what Jimmy finds enjoyable about mowing the lawn, but once he’s cleared with his doctor, the job is all his again.

“Daddy’s cooking!” Eliza said, when I came back upstairs. She gestured to the counter, where Jimmy was assembling the chicken dish. She and Priscilla were sitting at the table, eating raisins and coloring. You might find it odd, but Priscilla is good at sitting still and coloring. “I’m making you a picture!”

“I see that,” I said, sitting at the table with her. Jimmy handed me a glass of water, for which I was grateful. I should’ve had one more bottle of water out there with me, but oh well. “Looks very pretty.”

“Look at sissy,” she told me, and I looked over at Priscilla. She was smiling at me with all four teeth, though the crayon was soggy, since she was chewing on it. I redirected her, and gave her a teething ring. I think she’s going to be a lefty, too, though I don’t know why. Eliza is a lefty as well, and neither of us is. “That’s a pretty picture, sissy.”

I had to work hard not to laugh, because she’s trying to be nice. But the picture was a few scribbles of blue crayon and a LOT of drool. I agreed, swallowing my laughter, barely, as Priscilla grabbed a pink crayon and scribbled with that as well. It’s nice to see our children getting along like this, and it’s fun to watch them create things. Priscilla is just starting, of course, but Eliza is to where she can draw entire pictures now and have them look like something.

“You guys are good artists,” I praised, as they worked on their papers. I love having artistic children, because sports are not good for me or Jimmy. We can both sing and play instruments but we’re nothing but clumsy in sports. “I hope you guys stick with art as a hobby, since your dad and I can actually do that.”

“I agree,” Jimmy said, joining us at the table. He took a piece of paper and a crayon and started drawing. It was a little known talent of his, and everyone asks who drew the girl’s portraits that we have framed around the living room. He recently drew Penelope, as a form of healing, I think and he did an amazing job. “Eliza, hold still, please.”

I glanced over and smiled; he was capturing Eliza in yet another moment in her life to be proud of. She was bent over the table, tongue sticking out, as she concentrated on drawing a cat. I think she’s going to end up with Jimmy’s drawing skills, because her cats actually look like cats. I watched as the two finished up, then showed each other their work.

“It’s Ophelia!” she said, grinning and I had to agree; it was an exact portrait of the youngest cat.

“Very good! This is you drawing,” Jimmy explained and my jaw hit the floor. Not only was it an almost photographic quality picture of Eliza, but he’d captured her drawing as well. Thankfully, I have almost taken out stock in picture frames, and immediately went upstairs, finding two. There was room on the drawing wall for both of these.

“Well done!” I praised and proudly hung their pictures with the others they’ve done. “Eliza, you’re going to be just like daddy Jimmy, you know that?”

She grinned, looking at their drawings hanging side by side. I’m sure some day I’m going to eat my words, but for now, I’m going to admire the talents of my family; maybe someday, Eliza can go to art school. For now, I’ll hold her a little closer and encourage her talents in art.

“Should we go eat?” Jimmy asked, as the timer sounded.

I nodded, moving to help clear the table and leave Jimmy to deal with the food. I was glad to have him back home and I can’t wait now for October, when our family comes together to fete Priscilla; she deserves it.

Last chapter! Hope your Download recovery is going well =). This will give you time to get caught up reading as well .

40

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Priscilla! Happy birthday to you!”

I watched as my youngest daughter blew out the candle on her cake, with a little help from me and Jacoby. She’s thriving and her heart is in the best shape ever, according to Dr. Mumford. I know that this birthday is a little painful, because it should be the twin’s birthday, but we’re making it through. We’ve placed Penelope in the center of the table and no one was grossed out, and her name is on the cake.

“Who wants cake?” Mom asked, and we all raised our hands, especially Eliza. She loves her sweets, something she gets from me, and we’ve learned to ration things in our house of late. “Who made the cake?”

“I did,” Hank said, accepting a plate of the strawberry confection. Priscilla had specifically requested “strawberry cake” and I requested his homemade strawberry frosting for it. You’d think it would be too much, but since it’s from scratch and he’s found a way to cut down on the sugar, it’s just right.

“It’s amazing!” she gushed, and we all laughed, knowing my mother well. She was the baker in our family and there wasn’t a cake she couldn’t make. “I will need this recipe.”

“I can do that,” he promised, as we all stood around, eating. Jacoby and I were helping Priscilla, who was getting cake all over her face. I could hear the cameras going, and looked up in time to smile. Edgar had our camera for the day, so we didn’t have to worry about it. “It’s her favorite.”

Priscilla laughed and smiled, obviously pleased with all of the attention she was getting. After cake would come presents and trust me…the living room is almost half full of gifts. We asked for no more singing or dancing toys, as we have so many already, but I know some family members can’t resist.

“Are you ready for presents?” I asked, when we’d finished our cake. She was covered in frosting and I looked around for a wipe or rag, then got her cleaned up. “There’s a lot of them for our special girl!”

“Let’s go!” she exclaimed and everyone laughed, causing an even wider smile on her face. “Open presents!”

She walked into the living room with us and sat in the special handmade rocking chair she’d recently gotten from Hollister and Randy. It was an early gift, since they weren’t able to be here today, and she loved it. Eliza had gotten one for her birthday and they said it was only fair for Priscilla to have one as well.

“Okay, let’s do the big ones first,” I said, reaching to my right. It was a very large box and I wondered what in the world could possibly be in it. “This one is from Grandma and Grandpa Sullivan. One of many, I’d bet.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” dad asked, and we all laughed. Since they don’t see the kids much, they spoil them rotten when they do. Half of their gifts had been shipped ahead so they didn’t have to check them all as baggage.

Priscilla worked the paper loose with some help and my jaw hit the deck. It was an outside play house and not some plastic job, either. This thing was wooden and I bet it was expensive.

“Thank you!” Priscilla said and my folks smiled, Edgar making sure to capture my face. “More!”

It took an hour to open all the presents. She got a trike (though I think she’s a little young for that yet), a couple of ride on toys (good for her balance) plenty of clothes, shoes and books, and quite a few outdoor toys from my folks and Jacoby’s mom.

“There is one more,” Hank said and I was confused; we’d opened everything in the house. “If the birthday girl will come with Grandpa Hank, please.”

Confused, we all followed him outside and around to the south side of the house. Once again, there will be another flattering picture of me with my mouth hanging open. This man never ceases to amaze me with the things he does for us. He knows that money is tight and without us saying anything, knows what we need. That, and he got this thing set up without us knowing or seeing it!

“Priscilla, this is for you and Eliza both, okay?” he said, gesturing at the massive play structure. There are two slides, four swings, one of which is a baby swing, a tree house, a teeter-totter, a swing we can all sit on, a jungle gym, and a sand box in addition to the ladders, colorful tarps and toys we can’t see. “I think your daddies are getting emotional.”

What? It’s a dad thing, okay? We pulled ourselves together and hugged him, thanking him a million times over.

“Don’t thank just me,” he said, and gestured to the structure. I moved forward and removed the card attached to a huge red bow, opening it up and reading the inside. A gift card fell out, one of those debit cards that’s good anywhere and I started bawling when I saw the amount. “Every single person that is your life went together on this. We all worked together to raise the money for the structure and the gift card, because we know you need the money and the girls needed a new play area. So, a friend made this for me at a reduced cost and since there are almost 40 of us, it was no big deal to pull it off.”

“You guys rock,” I sobbed, with a smile on my face. “Really, you do. We don’t expect or deserve any of this.”

“You do deserve this,” my sister Kelly said, giving me a big hug. The girls were already playing on their new set, each heading for their favorite area of fun. Priscilla was in the sandbox, filling buckets with sand and dumping them out, over and over, while Eliza climbed up into a tower, then came down the slide, and did it all again. “You guys mean the world to us and we know things are tight right now. This is our way of helping out.”

I nodded, drying my eyes and watching Edgar capture the girl’s first moments on their new playset. As I watched them play, I felt Jacoby’s arms around me, and I knew we were doing the same thing: imagining Penelope up there, playing with her sisters. I knew Eleanor would take good care of her wherever they might be, but I couldn’t help but wish she was right here.

“Just remember that she’s in a better place,” Jacoby whispered in my ear, as we both looked skyward. I’d like to believe there’s a special place for all the babies who can’t be here with us, where they get to be young forever. “I bet she’s watching down on us right now with Eleanor.”

“I hope so,” I said, wiping my eyes again. We have never forgotten our daughter, and we never would.

“Daddy?” Eliza asked, and I looked down at her, trying to put a smile on my face. “Do you think there’s a good place to put a picture of Penny? She’d love to play with us.”

I nodded, dissolving into tears once more. Eliza ran off to play and I saw my mother coming to me, then she held me, rubbing my back. I know that every year on Priscilla’s birthday we’re going to be mourning our Penelope. The last year had really changed us, but I think it’s for the better. We’re certainly stronger than we were before all this happened, that’s for sure.

“She’s in a good place honey,” mom reminded me, rocking me gently back and forth. “Whatever you believe in, that’s where she is. I bet she’s with Eleanor right now, having a big birthday party.”

“I hope so,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It’s so hard, though, today. Why is it so hard?”

“Because it’s her first birthday,” mom said, taking me aside. Jacoby’s mom had him as well, and the guests were busy checking out the playset, giving us our space. “I know it’s hard to believe, but this will get easier. You’ll never forget Penelope, of course, but you will be able to celebrate her as the years go by. Priscilla will, of course, ask those difficult questions, just as Eliza does now, but you’ll be stronger as you go. It’s okay to miss her, Jimmy, we all do.”

“I just never imagined it’d be so hard,” I sobbed, holding my mom tight. “Christmas was hard, but it was so soon after her passing, you know? And Eliza was acting up so much; we didn’t have time to think about it, really. Now, it’s really hitting home, you know? I see Penelope’s urn every day, but it wasn’t until today, when we all got going at the party, that it really hit home, you know?”

My mother nodded, holding me tight. I know that we aren’t the only parents going through this and I actually joined an online support group for this reason. They all said the first birthday was the hardest, especially if you have other children who can still celebrate, and they were right. But I hadn’t planned on it being this hard. I took a deep breath, as I felt little arms wrap around my legs. I looked down and saw Priscilla smiling up at me, with her five teeth, almost six, and I leaned down to pick her up.

“No cry, daddy,” she said, plain as day. She’s been using one and two word sentences, so this was a surprise. “Love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, holding her tight. “I love you very, very, very much. Are you having a good birthday?”

She nodded, burying her face in my neck, a sign it was naptime. The party was winding down anyway, and people were coming over to say goodbye. We thanked them all for their gifts and for coming, glad that her birthday had been a success. When all but Hank and our families were gone, we sat at the table with coffee while the girls napped.

“I think Priscilla had a good day,” Jacoby said, looking at Penelope’s urn. It’s just as beautifully sad as the day we received it. “It was a happy day, though tinged with sadness.”

“That was expected, though,” Jeanette said, placing a hand over her son’s. You can tell where he got his somewhat dainty hands. “Just remember that Penelope is always with us, no matter what. Something tells me Eleanor spoiled that little girl rotten today.”

I had to laugh, nodding my head, as I drained my coffee and set the cup aside. “I have no doubt about that. It’s something she’s good at, trust me. Even though she never met her namesake, she spoiled her bio grandkids rotten and Jacoby and me as well. I have no doubt that Penelope thoroughly enjoyed herself today, wherever she might be.”

“Where do you think she is?” dad asked, and I paused to think. He’s a very devoted Catholic, but over the years, I fell into more of an agnostic, almost atheist way of thinking. I never for one moment believed God had anything to do with my recovery. “I don’t know. I guess I keep picturing this park with all kinds of playground equipment, ponds, ducks, bikes, and plenty of toys. A place she can grow to whatever age suits her and then be that age forever. I picture lots of grandmothers taking care of the children, spoiling them rotten, and just making them always happy, you know? I hope that’s where she is, at least. As long as she’s happy, though, that’s all that matters.”

Dad nodded, looking at his granddaughter’s picture. It was taken moments after she passed and she looks like she’s just sleeping. The photographers don’t edit the photos, so if a child is mottled, they leave that in, to preserve what that child looked like. In Penelope’s case, she was alive for an hour or so after birth, so in her pictures, even though she’s dead, she looks alive.

“I think you’re right, Jim,” he told me and I was surprised. “I know I’m a religious man and you’re not, but I truly believe children go to some sort of Neverland when they pass away. A place where a skinned knee doesn’t hurt and they can be eternal children. I imagine only special people get to look after them, and I imagine Eleanor is one of them.”

“She always did love children,” Hank commented, looking down at his wedding ring. He’s never taken it off, despite that fact that his wife has been dead for almost five years now. “I have a feeling she welcomed Penelope with open arms.”

It amazes me how easily he speaks of Eleanor these days. It was hard for him at first, but he’s so nonchalant about it now. It makes me wonder if we’ll ever get there.

“You’ll get where I am eventually,” he promised, nodding. “It’s hard when you lose a child. When we lost our daughter, the world ended, it seemed. The first time her birthday rolled around or a holiday, or the first day of school were the worst. But over time, we started celebrating her. Her birthday is still on the calendar at home, and tomorrow she’ll turn 50. She’ll be forever seven, though, and I’d bet she’s with Penelope in the children’s area. She had her mom’s love for children, even at that tender age. I still have her ashes on the mantel, next to her mother, where they belong.”

“I hope they’re all happy,” Jacoby said, refilling coffees. He lifted his cup and we all followed suit. “To happy children.”

We mumbled the toast after him, taking a drink of our coffee. I picked up Penelope’s urn, gazing at her picture, wondering what she’d have grown into. The doctor said she’d have likely had extensive brain damage had she survived, but I don’t care. They said that about Priscilla, too, and she’s 100% fine. She’s on time with everything now, and ahead in her speech. She’s even getting taller than most one year olds, so what do the doctors know?

“She’ll always be in your heart, Jimmy,” dad said, and I nodded, setting the fragile angel back on the table. He was right, of course. “You have memories with her, however brief. And you did right by celebrating her today.”

Hank had put both girl’s names on the cake, and Penelope got two gifts: mom and dad planted a tree in her honor in Eliza’s favorite park in Huntington Beach and Jacoby’s mom had a star named after her; we’re going to use Hank’s telescope soon to find it.

I raised my coffee cup and the others followed my lead. “To Penelope.”

Finally here to comment on this, I am a sucky sucky reader and I'm so sorry it's been so long. I still don't have a new computer, but I'm home this afternoon, the bf is downstairs watching cricket so I figured I'd plug in and see what was shaking over here!

I loved the bittersweetness of the final chapter, but I'm so pleased that Jimmy and Jacoby, plus Eliza and Priscilla, are doing so much better. I see you have posted a new fic, Growing Up Shaddix, so I guess I know how my afternoon is being spent!