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“What happened?”
Cam clears his throat. “He was helping as we were using the Jaws of Life to get a patient out of a crumpled car. We had it braced, but as you know with all of the rain we’ve had lately, the ground is soft. The braces failed and the car rolled on top of him. His arm is broken, which is why he’s in surgery. It wasn’t a clean break.”
While I realize this could’ve been a lot worse, I’m hit square in the chest with a lot of realities; trauma going back to when I was a teenager, and other things I’ve managed to keep buried deep within my subconscious.
My husband has a dangerous job. Every time he leaves the house, there’s a possibility he might not come back. I know the man he is – to save a life – he’ll put his own in jeopardy. Never has that become more apparent than this moment.
Fear.
Something I thought I’d let go of, which is a stupid thought because I’veneverdealt with it.
It’s the cause of bad decisions everywhere.
And right now, it’s forcing me to make a decision I never wanted to make. How can I bring a baby into this world that may not get to know who his amazing dad is? How will I handle it if we make all these memories and something happens to Chance? I’ll have to live the rest of my life wondering what if.
Reality is telling me this is because of my own past. Because of the issues I’ve pretended to deal with, but never have. I lost my dad my senior year of high school, and I’ve never gotten over it. I’ve thought more than I should about all the things he’s missed; the things he should’ve been part of. My marriage, my senior prom, my graduation… all important life experiences that I always thought he’d be a part of. I’ve made my way on my own and learned to do things without him by my side – my mother, too, really, because once he died, I lost her too. Not because she’s gone from this earth like he is, but because she couldn’t deal with him being gone. In those moments when he died, there were certain ways I became the adult, and I’m absolutely terrified. What if Chance doesn’t come home from shift one day, and I do the same thing to my child that my mom did to me? The fear… It's pushing me to do things I’m uncomfortable with, but I can’t go through it again. And I never want this child to have to be the person I’ve had to grow into.
It’s in this moment I make a decision; one I know that will have lasting effects. One I know I’ll have to answer for in years to come, but I have to be able to live with myself. To know that my son is protected; to know I don’t have to show up to a funeral for the man I love.
“Delia are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be there in the next twenty minutes.”
“I can have someone come and get you,” Cam offers. “You sound shaken up.”
If only he knew. “No, I’ll be good. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
We hang up and I hurry to get my shoes on, along with clothes that are comfortable enough for me to be hanging out in the hospital in. As I do all of this, a plan begins to form in my mind.
One that I know isn’t fair, but it feels like the only decision I can make.
I’ll get Chance home, get him rehabbed for his arm, and then me and this baby will leave. Neither of us will have a chance to miss something we don’t know.
I’ll save my child from the hurt I experienced, because I never want someone I love to go through what I did.
Even if it means hurting myself and my husband.
CHAPTERFOUR
Chance
When I enter the room,I’m not sure what I expect, but the toddler lying in the bed is asleep. There are lines with fluids running from a bag to where he’s had an IV put into his hand. Quickly I make the sign of the cross on my chest, and thank God I wasn’t here for them to put that in. I can only imagine the sounds he made.
A doctor comes in while I’m standing here, trying to comprehend everything that’s happened in the past hour. “How is he?”
“Good. He’s got a slight concussion, and a sprained wrist. We’ll put a brace on him in the next little bit, and I want to keep him overnight for observation. In the grand scheme of things, he’s doing well. We’re giving him some fluids because he was in shock, and we’ve given him something to settle him down. I don’t expect him to wake up in the next few hours if you need to go check on your wife and get them some things.”
Instead of explaining to him the weird situation I’m in, I nod. “Thank you so much. I’ll let someone know if and when I leave.”
He gives me a smile, and heads out the door. Alone with my son, I take in everything. From the dark hair on the top of his head, to the long eyelashes so much like mine, down to the bruises that are starting to form on his arm. I wish he’d open his eyes so I could see if they’re dark like mine, or hazel like Delia’s.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper to him. “I’m gonna go check on your mom.” Quietly I leave, and head to the nurses station. “Can you tell me where my wife is? Delia Caldera.”
“She’s in exam room four. They’re still waiting on the neurologist to come in.”
“Thank you,” I head toward the room she’s indicated.
My steps slow as I get there. I haven’t seen her in so long. The last memory I have of her is the morning I left for work before coming home and her being gone. The door opens quicker than I want it to, and I’m there in the room with her.
