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Mia bounds down the stairs. “I can’t find Mommy.”
“I think she’s out in the garden.” In addition to flowers, veggies, and a small orchard, Fee has an impressive greenhouse filled with unusual herbs and other produce native to the northwest. “Let’s go check. As you can see, she must be expecting us to test some new dishes forGus.”
Mia dashes to the sliding glass door. “Awesome, I’m so hungry.”
I follow her out, and the slithery feeling returns. I’m a couple paces behind as she skips toward the greenhouse through rows of sunflowers, which have bloomed early this year.
We’re almost there when my heart stops beating. “Mia come back here. Right now,” I choke out.
But it’s too late.
“Mommy!”she shrieks and shifts into turbocharge. As do I.
Fee is slumped against the door, half-unconscious.
History never repeats itself. It’s a motherfucking lie. It’s also the motherfucking truth.Carter’s ominous words fill my head as I text “Code 2″ to Zeke, the head of my personal security.
Because this is motherfucking déjà vu. The one thing that neither Fee nor I would have ever wished for Mia. A repeat of a trauma we both survived but has haunted both of us our entire lives.
You have to do better.
Attempting to remain calm and not scare our daughter, I crouch next to my precious wife. “Zaaanne,” she slurs.
“It’s okay, baby.” I kiss her forehead. “Mia’s with me.”
Fee’s eyes open slightly, but enough for me to see her fear. With a slight nod, I silently reassure her. I know what to do.
“Mia?” I turn to my left and loosely encircle her wrist and look into her eyes. “Can you please help me with something very, very important?”
She nods, her little face pinched with worry. “Is Mommy sick?”
“Yes, Meems. She’s sick and I’ve arranged to take her to the doctor. It’s too cold outside for you to wait without your coat. Would you please go in? Olga will make you some hot cocoa. I promise everything is going to be fine. I’ll be right there. Okay?” I hope that I’m keeping my shit together for Mia, because alarm bells, sirens, and panic whistles are simultaneously going off in my head.
Mia gazes deep into my soul. Makes her decision. “Okay, Daddy. I’ll go inside.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She turns and trots back to the house, allowing me to return my attention to my wife. “Fee, what happened?”
“Zannnie. Passsssed owwwt.” Her words are craggy. Drawn out. Her eyes shut. It’s definitely not warm out here but sweat beads on her eyebrow and upper lip.
Fuck.
“Baby, I’m taking you to the hospital.” I sit next to my wife. Her head slumps against my shoulder. I didn’t think things could get any worse, but I guess I was wrong…
Trying not to lose my shit completely, I pull out my phone and tap our nanny Olga’s number. “Olga, I have a Code 2. Zeke is on it. Fee is very ill, we’re going to the hospital. Mia is on her way to the house.” I suck in a breath. “Can you take over for a bit? Fee left some stuff on the stove and in the oven. Oh, and get Meems some hot chocolate, maybe an art project to distract her?”
Olga gives me assurances and we hang up. Thank Christ we have her. As I listen for a siren which should be approaching any second now, I wrap my arms around my wife and force myself to stay positive. At least my fame and money allows a level of privilege most people don’t get to experience. None of this will be public.
It rarely is in my family. It’s perhaps the one light at the end of the seemingly never-ending tunnel.
I kiss Fee’s face over and over. Whisper to her how much I love her. Tell her she’s my other half. Assure her that we’ve been through so much shit and we’ll get through this too.
She’s limp in my arms. Breathing shallowly. I smooth the magenta hair from her perfect face. Considering our history, to know she’s done something so stupid—so out of character—is devastating. Incomprehensible.
Inevitable?
No. It doesn’t do any good to think that way. It doesn’t matter one way or the other.
I’m not going anywhere.
