AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t say anything in response because it’ll come out mean. I don’t want to be mean. Miles has waited on me hand and foot since we got home—and arguably long before Emmie was born. He’s changed most diapers, done all the chores, and gotten up with me for every middle of the night feeding. If he could force his body to lactate, I’m sure he’d feed her, too. It’s not necessarily surprising. He’s taken care of me in every way since the moment I told him I was pregnant, but maybe a part of me still believed one day that might stop. Now I know there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of him ever stopping taking care of me or Emmie. Taking care of others is like a drug to him. It’s my job to make sure he keeps taking care of himself.
“Made it,” I say with a heavy sigh as we step inside the doors of the nursing home.
Emmie still hasn’t rustled. Hopefully, she won’t be too cranky when we wake her up. I called ahead to let the nursing staff know we were coming and to make sure my mom wasn’t showing any signs of illness. Unfortunately, nursing homes are breeding grounds for illness this time of year, so we won’t be visiting as often now, which kills me, but we need to protect Emmie. Katie promised she’ll be visiting regularly in my place.
When we get inside the elevator, I lean against the wall and let out a long breath. Who knew you could get winded going down a small flight of stairs? I guess it’s true. Everything changes when you have a kid.
I close my eyes and take another breath, mentally preparing myself. The nurse said my mother was having a pretty good day, so hopefully this will go well. We also brought Christmas presents with us, since Eileen Davis will never complain about a present.
The bell dings and the doors open. With one hand, Miles carries both the bag of presents and Emmie in her car seat. He’s superhuman, I swear.
I push off the wall and follow him out of the elevator, continuing my snail-like trek.
When we walk into the unit, the head nurse and the day shift nurse swarm us, fawning over Emmie and how adorable she is. Part of me wants to spray them with Lysol and tell them to get back, but I don’t. After a few minutes, they finally let us go, and we head down the hall to my mother’s room. We stop outside, and I carefully pull Emmie from her car seat, hoping not to disturb her too much. She rustles a little, but settles in again once she’s resting against my chest. Then I tell Miles to go ahead.
He walks into the room and then her part of it, knocking on the wall as he does.
“Good morning, Eileen,” he calls cheerily.
She says something back, but I can’t hear what.
“It’s me, Miles. Your favorite person. Actually, I might be your second favorite once you see your Christmas present.”
“A Christmas present?” my mother asks excitedly, and that’s my cue. I walk into the room, and her eyes go wide. “Oh my—when did you have a baby?” She asks in shock.
“Just a few days ago. Would you like to meet your granddaughter?”
She scrunches up her nose. “Granddaughter? I’m too young to be a grandmother.” Then she laughs. It’s high and shrill and just like mine. “Let me have her!”
I laugh and walk over to her bed, carefully pulling Emmie from my chest and cradling her in my arms. “Mom, this is Emmie.”
Her eyes get misty. “Emmie. Like Mom? Oh, she’ll love that.”
My heart hurts but also warms at those words. It’s hard when she doesn’t realize family members have passed, but I love hearing her refer to my dad’s mother as ‘Mom.’” She always called his parents Mom and Dad because they were the ones who were true parents to her.
“Mhm.”
“A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
She moves to take Emmie from me, so I reposition, gently placing Emmie in her arms, but keeping one arm gently on hers so I can make sure Emmie doesn’t slip out of her hands.
Miles stands, smiling, and snaps several pictures. Gratitude washes over me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever have this moment. Or that it would be like this. My mom may not be herself, but she still loves Emmie, and the joy on her face heals some of the aches in my heart. I’m thankful I still get to have days like this, even if they’re not what I imagined a few years ago. I’m sitting in my mother’s bed with her while she holds my daughter and sings badly to her. I got my horrible voice from somewhere, and yet the sound of hers is comforting. It reminds me of how she’d purposely sing loudly and badly to my dad to make him laugh.
Right now, her voice has Emmie’s attention as she stares up at my mom. Emmie’s blue eyes might not stay, but right now they match my mother’s. As I watch them together, I hope she’ll have my mother’s blue eyes and my father’s laugh, if only so I can keep some little pieces of them forever.
From the end of the bed, Miles reaches for my hand. I take his, and he smiles at me.
For too long I was afraid of how the beautiful moments in my life could be ruined by pain, but right now, I’m grateful I get to have this beautiful moment, and that no matter how much of it she remembers, my mother gets to have it, too. One day, Emmie can look back at the pictures and know how much her grandmother loved her. My daughter, my family, this moment—these are the best Christmas gifts I ever could’ve asked for.
Aaron
“It’s not fair,” Rae complains, flopping onto the bed. “Why do I have to be sick on Christmas? I don’t even know where I got a stomach bug from.” She sticks her lip out in a pout.
“Put that away,” I say, running my finger over her lip.
The smell of the fruity Tic Tacs she’s sucking on after her second round of puking this morning wafts through the air.
I run my hand over her cheek and up to her head.
