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That shit had a chokehold on me since she and her brothers were born, but now, as I looked down at that helpless, beautiful being with my eyes, something inside of me shifted from fear to absolute adoration.
Her mother and I laughed and whispered to each other as we both kept touching our child. “She’s perfect, like her mother.” I had a lump in my throat and my eyes stung a little as the enormity of all of this hit me at once.
How could life change so much in just a year? How could I have every happiness I ever wanted and never imagined having just landed in my lap like this? It felt as if all of this was to make up for my crappy childhood.
And the beautiful thing about it is that I was in a position to give my kids the childhood I wish I’d had. I already had a nursery full of shit for her brothers since I was hellbent on getting two sons out of this deal. I got my wish with an added bonus.
Not for nothing, but I’m almost certain that it was this kid that made me sick all those months, and I’m not sure if that was a foreboding of things to come or not. Whatever it was, she’d made her presence known before making an appearance, so that must mean something.
It's kind of like how I saw her mother long before we met. That turned out well, so let’s hope for the best.
* * *
CECILE
* * *
I drove home quicklyfrom the hospital because it was already late in the evening, and I wasn’t sure if I’d reach the lawyer at this time of night or have to wait until morning, but I couldn’t wait. I have no doubt that bitch would kill my son. This was her fault, after all.
Everything went wrong because of her, and now my son was lying in a hospital bed half dead. If she’d stayed, he never would’ve moved in with Deidre, and none of this would be happening. If she’d stayed, his life would’ve gotten back on track, and he wouldn’t have lost hope.
Thankfully, I reached the lawyer before he left for the evening, and just as I suspected, he recommended me to someone else at his firm. I had a consultation first thing the next morning.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night; I just sat up in the nursery, watching over the baby as if I was afraid of losing him, too. He was all I had left. I didn’t even hate him because of what his mother did; I couldn’t. How could I? He was part of my son.
In the morning, I went to see the lawyer, and the fee was astronomical, but that was no problem. I could refinance my home, take out another mortgage, anything. The house was already paid off, thanks to my in-laws, and if they made a fuss, I’d just worry about that later.
I was on my way to the bank when I got the call. I’ll never forget that numbness that overcame me or the way the world went dark. I turned around as if in a daze and hurried back to the hospital, not even knowing how I made it there.
I was allowed to see my son for the last time. He died five minutes before I got the call. I screamed a lot of questions at the doctors and nurses. How could someone on life support die? They were lying to me; they had to be. I begged and pleaded for them to do whatever it took to bring him back to me, but they just went about their business, unhooking him from the tubes and carrying on with business as usual.
I stood there for the longest time after they left. My husband and daughters came, and other people walked in and out of the room, but I didn’t notice; I was too numb, too heartbroken to care about any of it.
I rushed from the room and ran from the building back to my car and sped home where I’d left him with the teenage daughter of my next-door neighbors. I grabbed the baby up in my arms and held him close as I broke down in tears.
He's at that age where he understands emotion, and that sweet little boy just patted my shoulder as if to offer comfort. It was little solace, but at least I had him, not that anyone could replace my son.
* * *
DEIDRE
* * *
“What is it now?Did you get those drug charges dropped? It was Dan’s house, so…”
“I’m not here about that, sorry. Dan Stewart passed away last night. The charges are now murder in the first degree instead of attempted murder. Also, do you recognize the name Stanley Thorpe?”
I felt the room spin around me and struggled to keep my composure. “No, who’s that?” He looked at me as if I was draining his energy. I don’t see why; didn’t he go to school for this? Isn’t it his job to get me out of here?
“Think carefully because the D.A. is going to try to throw the book at you. Your claim of self-defense is already hanging by a thread because of what the DEA captain claims was happening when they busted down the door. Not to mention most of the wounds on Mr. Stewart were towards his back…”
“Listen, I don’t care what anyone says they saw; he attacked me first. Now do your job and get my bail and where is my son?”
“He’s with his grandmother, of course,” I smirked at him but said nothing. What a load of crap.
I can’t afford to falter now, though; I have to keep my wits about me until the very end. I’m not beaten yet. So that fucker died, big deal. I’m not about to spend the rest of my life rotting in here because of that.
I need money, and I need a better lawyer than this public defender joker. But how did he know about Stanley? Nobody knows about Stanley, even I haven’t thought of him in years.
