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“Mmm, that I do, baby. That. I. Do.” I transfer Aria to her arms and lean down and kiss my wife's forehead.
“Love me?” She says.
“Always.” I respond. It’s our thing. Has been since the day we exchanged wedding vows. I’ll love her for always. She makes a content humming noise in her throat, pulling Aria’s blanket down so she can see her face better.
“Have you checked on Zane?” She asks, even though she knows I have.
“Yep,” I respond, popping the p sound at the end a little, “he is, and this is a direct quote from my mother, driving her insane. He’s anxious to meet his baby sister.” She laughs, knowing it’s probably true. Zane keeps us on our toes and he is over the moon about being a big brother.
“I can’t wait to see him…” she trails off, and the machines she’s hooked up to start beeping erratically. “I.. somethings wrong Ford.” she drops her left arm and starts feeling around the bed, finally snatching up her call light and pressing the button. It’s not necessary, there are already nurses and a doctor barging into the room. I lean down and pull Aria out of her arms just as a nurse pushes me back out of the way.
“What’s happening? What’s going on?” I’m panicking and bouncing the baby in my arms at the same time, trying to shush her as she starts to cry a little.
A nurse steps in front of me and turns my shoulders. “I need you to step out in the hallway, sir. Let us take care of your wife. You can come back in just a minute once we figure out what’s going on.” She forces me towards the door.
“I’ll be right back, Zo, right back, baby. I’ll be right outside the door,” I choke out, my concern obvious.
“Ford,” she gasps out and before I can make it out the door the last thing I hear her say is ‘always’ right before she flatlines.
I bolt up in bed, sweat running down my face. Shit, I scrub my face up and down with my hands. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a nightmare about that day. I fling the sheets off of me and throw my legs over the side of the bed. Dropping my head into my hands I try to slow my breathing. Fuck.
A blood clot. A fucking blood clot after childbirth that the doctors didn’t catch. One second she was there, looking up at me smiling and holding our baby. And the next minute she was gone. Nothing anyone could do.
I push off the bed and cross to the dresser where our wedding photo still sits. Zoe, in a knee length ivory dress with a wide skirt and a lace veil, her little baby bump barely visible. Me, in black jeans and a white button up shirt with a gray vest over it. Sleeves rolled up to my elbows and smiling down at my bride. Pregnant and married at 19. We were so young but so in love. I run my finger over the image of her, my chest aching with the loss just like it’s done since the day she left.
Heartbreak is a real fucking thing. Every day I wake up with this empty spot in my heart. This ache that never goes away and I’m not sure if it ever will.
I make my way out of my room and peek in on both of the kids before I go down to grab a glass of water. Once I know they’re still snug in their beds, I make my way down the stairs and to the kitchen. After filling a glass with ice and water, I take a long drink and lean my ass agai
nst the counter. This house is filled with so many memories. We scraped and saved for a down payment. I worked construction during the day and took online schooling at night. Zoe got her cosmetology license when we graduated high school through our schools apprentice work program. She had all the hours she needed and was licensed our first summer out of school.
We both busted our asses to make our dreams happen. Statistics are shit for a couple of high school sweethearts trying to make it in the world but none of that mattered to us. We bought our dream house and used what I was learning from working construction during the days we spent our weekends renovating. The kitchen was her favorite renovation in the whole house. She spent hours picking out countertops, paint colors, and deciding on cupboards. The farmhouse sink was her favorite piece in the whole room. I run my hand over the cool metal while staring out into the backyard.
I try not to let the kids see me like this during the day. I never shy away from talking about their mom, that wouldn’t be fair to them. I tell them all the stories they want and they eat that shit up. Zane remember her some, but the older he gets the more I worry that he won’t always remember how she used to sing to him at bedtime, or how she would spend hours rocking him in the chair that still sits in the corner of his room long after he fell asleep, or how he used to cuddle up to her on the couch and talk to his baby sister through her belly. She was a fantastic mother and wife.
A shadow out back catches my eye. I squint. Reaching over and flicking the light off above the sink so I can see better, I lean closer to the window. Huh. I don’t see anything now. I turn the light back on, double check the window and the back door to make sure they’re locked. I’m being ridiculous. I make it to the front foyer and double check the front door. Pulling back the curtain on the little side window beside the door, I’m just in time to see tail lights fading in the distance. Weird, we live on a dead end street so there’s never any traffic and a lot of the couples on this road work a 9 - 5, they’re not likely to be coming and going at 3 am. I wait until the car is out of sight before I make my way back upstairs to try and get some sleep.
???
A week has passed since the night I woke up from dreaming about Zoe. The end of August has faded into September and school is starting to kick into high gear. Sometimes teaching high school math can be hard. I worry I’m not pushing them enough or that I’m challenging them too much. I have the students that don’t give a shit if they pass and graduate, the students that are scraping by with a C because they need to stay eligible for sports, and then I have the students that need to get an A or they pay for it at home. And right now, that’s the student sitting in front of me currently.
“I can’t take home a B, Mr. James. You of all people know what’s going to happen. I need help!” Sophie’s voice has reached hysterical at this point. We’ve been going over her GPA during my planning period and she’s right on the cusp of an A. But she’s right, I do know what happens. Her parents are assholes. They’ll take her car, they won’t let her babysit, and they’ll talk to her like she’s a fucking idiot.
I pull my black framed reading glasses off my face and toss them on my desk. Scrubbing my hand over my face I lean back in my chair.
“I know, Soph. What can I do to help? Extra credit? You know I’m always available during this time every day to help you but I don’t want you to neglect your other studies. What do you need from me?”
“I can’t keep coming during my study hall, I have other homework to do and if I start slipping up in more than one class I won’t ever stay afloat. I don’t know. Yeah, maybe extra credit. I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.” She finishes by huffing out a breath and starts packing her things up. The bell is due to ring in just a few minutes which means my rugrats will be on their way up to my room since it’s the end of the day.
“Done. I’ll email you some worksheets you can do, turn em into me by Friday.” I push back from my desk and stand up just as the bell rings.
“Thanks, Mr. J. Not sure what I’d do without you.” She looks up at me and smiles. I’m not stupid, I know Sophie has a crush on me. She has for years. Obviously I would never take advantage of that, she’s my student and although that may work for some dudes it’s just not my style.
“Sure thing, Sophie.” I smile, suddenly feeling really awkward, when my door bursts open, and the kids come shoving their way in.
“Dad, Zane told me I’m a loser!” Aria whines out, shoving her brother into the doorway. She’s dragging her Shopkins bookbag behind her and her coat is hanging off of her shoulders. Girl is always a wreck. She looks up and sees Sophie. “EEEK! Sophieeee! Is you here to take me home? Is you is you is you!?” She runs over and throws herself at Sophie, who barely has time to catch her.
“Heya, AJ,” she bends down and bops her on the nose with her finger. “I’m not taking you home today, squirt. I have cheerleading practice after school. It’s Wednesday, remember? I take you home on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She stands up and grabs her things. “Thanks Mr. James, I’ll see you tonight.” She heads out, fist bumping Zane who’s lingering in the doorway trying to look cool and she mutters something about not calling his sister a loser or she’s going to give him a noogie, and then she’s out the door. I turn to Zane.
