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A nurse entered the waiting area, and I stood up. “Casey?” she asked. In response, a mother and her small daughter stood up and walked with the nurse who took them to their room.
This was unbearable. I sat back down with Sloane, and it wasn’t until that nurse came out another three times that she managed to say Sloane’s name. I helped Sloane up and took her towards the nurse.
“Are you family?” the nurse asked.
I should have lied. In this whole situation, my biggest regret was not lying to the nurse right then, but my instinct was always to be honest.
“I’m her boss,” I said.
“I’m afraid you’ll need to wait out here, then,” the nurse said, giving me a stern look.
At that point, I could have argued with her, but it would have only wasted more precious time that we didn’t have. I followed the nurse’s instructions and sat back down where I was, tapping my feet with nerves for a few minutes before picking up a magazine — one of those celebrity gossip rags my mom loved so much — and skimmed through it.
I couldn’t focus, but it felt good to be looking at something other than the quiet waiting area, full of sick people in various stages of distress. And it also helped to not have to look anyone else in the eye as I worried about Sloane and how alone she must have felt in there. Whatever she was going through, whatever was happening, I wouldn’t have any idea until she came out.
A little blood must have been normal during a pregnancy, I figured. This was probably typical, and we overreacted by taking her to the hospital. I put the magazine down and pulled out my phone, doing a search on the internet for information. It wasn’t helpful. Some blood wasn’t unusual, but a lot could be concerning. These vague terms weren’t helpful at all. Sloane said there was a lot of blood, but how much constituted “a lot” in her mind? Or in the minds of whoever put this website I was looking at together.
I read more and more down the page in the hopes that I’d uncover the detail that would put my mind at ease, but it wasn’t there. And time continued to pass, more and more, until I realized that she’d been in there for over an hour, which my mind alternated between telling me was a good sign or a bad sign. It was a good sign because it meant that she was being treated and the doctors were working hard, and we did the right thing in bringing her here. Or maybe it was a bad sign because, if it was truly nothing, it would have just been a five-minute visit and the doctor would tell us to keep an eye on things in case they get worse, but there wasn’t anything concerning at the moment.
Then, after just over two hours, Sloane returned to the waiting room. She didn’t need to say anything — the look in her eyes said it all.
I ran up to her and hugged her tightly.
In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “We lost her. Grace is gone.”
She wasn’t just gone. She’d never get to be. We would never get to meet her. All those imaginary moments of fatherhood I’d looked forward to had dissolved away to forever live as fantasies and never to be replaced by genuine memories.
I walked her back to the car and drove her home. Neither of us said a word the entire way.
CHAPTER27
***SLOANE***
At that moment it felt like Wesley and I were done and there was no way we could recover. I couldn’t look at his face without thinking of Grace, our beautiful baby girl who never got to see our world. He texted me a few times after the hospital visit, but I didn’t respond other than by asking him to give me some space. In that sense, this break-up was just like the last time I’d backed away from him. There was a difference, though. This time, I couldn’t feel him pushing back at all.
I wondered if maybe he’d felt the same thing I did: defeat. Part of me thought he might have held me responsible for the lost pregnancy. And I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. After all, it was my body that rejected Grace. Maybe if I’d gone to see a doctor sooner, we could have done something to save her. But, deep down, I knew that couldn’t be true.
It didn’t matter what I’d done. Grace was never meant to see the light of day. And that feeling terrified me.
I was still living at Mila’s through all of this, so at least I wasn’t alone. She used her vacation time to take a few days off and keep me company. I felt a little guilty for taking time away from her that she could have spent on some tropical island, but, given the circumstances, I know I would have done the same for her and I was thankful for it. There was no way I could have been alone after what I’d gone through. It was one thing to lie on the couch watching daytime talk shows by yourself and another to sit up and binge whatever garbage was currently available on streaming with the girl you grew up with. The girl who understood you better than anyone else possibly could.
She put on a baking competition show, under the impression that it was unlikely that anything stressful would happen. In fact, this particular one barely qualified as a competition. While some of these kitchen shows could get pretty heated between the contestants, this wasn’t one of them. Here, amateurs were paired with professionals in a group setting and the goal was to see who could improve the most over the course of the season.
“I like how they’re not afraid to help each other,” I said. “It’s my favorite thing about the show.”
Mila nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s nice when people are nice to each other.”
“I hate when people are pitted against each other even though they should be friends. They all have so much in common and they can learn from each other. Life is so much easier when you focus on common ground.” I sighed. This was something I missed about working at Dynasty: how helpful everyone was. Wesley had told me it was a relatively new change in company philosophy, but the agents would take the time to assist each other, since it was ultimately better for the company and better for everybody. It wasn’t every person for themselves in a traditional sink or swim atmosphere. With the way that most people ran the working world, I didn’t think it was likely I’d find another place like Dynasty.
But I couldn’t go back. Not so long as Wesley was still there. Maybe he’d retire or transfer.
Then again, even if that happened, I wasn’t sure I could return. Too many memories.
“I never was much of a baker,” Mila said. “Maybe I should try out for the show.”
It wasn’t the worst idea. Mila was pretty and probably could have made it as an actor. It was no surprise that these streaming shows all filmed out in LA near the companies that produced them. As a result, for the most part, they tended to employ out of work actors. Mila’s winning smile and radiant personality would probably get her pretty far through the auditioning process.
“Yeah, and I’d be in the audience cheering you on.”
