Page 21

I’d always been good with words, loved the way they come together to form stories. It was the perfect escape, much like reading, but today it wasn’t happening. My curser mocked me, blinking on the blank page opened on my MacBook. I was supposed to write a reflective essay for my creative writing class, but when I tried to come up with something to write about, nada. A big fat nothing.

I would blame the fact that I had a ‘panic attack’, but that was two days ago and I hadn’t experienced another one since. And I hadn’t seen Vaughan since then either.

Maybe that was what had me so bothered, to the point that I couldn’t seem to get any words out.

Damn him. And my stupid, broken brain. Until now I haven’t used my accident as a crutch, but it was starting to feel like one and I didn’t know how to deal with that. I wasn’t one to make excuses, and yet every time I struggled with something I reverted back to the fact that I lost a year’s worth of memories, a year that everyone was careful not to talk about. It was driving me crazy.

It was a beautiful afternoon, and I was alone in the apartment. Maddy was teaching a toddler ballet class, and wouldn’t be back until later. Eventually, the quiet was too much, so I changed into some warmer clothes, threw my UGGs on and called Connor to see if his fiancée, Natalie was working. The last time I saw her I was still in the hospital.

By bus it was less than a ten minute drive to Blackburn Community Hospital, and I found Natalie talking to a colleague outside just as I hopped off. Her black hair was tied up in a tight bun atop her head, her face youthful and exuberant. She grinned widely when she saw me, embracing me in the kind of hug I imagined getting from a mom.

“I was hoping you’d stop by,” she said. She pulled back, resting her hands on my shoulder. She gave me the once-over, and her jade green eyes filled with an almost maternal satisfaction. “I was just about to head up to the N.I.C.U to check on my babies, we could use some extra help with the Kangaroo Care.”

“Kangaroo Care?”

We started walking into the hospital, and stepped into the elevator. “You’ll see.”

The neonatal intensive care unit was one of the best facilities for newborns in Colorado. It was hard to imagine what the babies went through in their first few days and even weeks of life. Natalie greeted a few of the other nurses, and stepped up next to one of the incubators.

“This is Kyle. He was dropped off at the hospital a week ago.”

“His Mom just left him here?”

She nodded, her expression sad. “He’s one of many cases, unfortunately.”

I looked down at the tiny baby, tubes coming out of his nose, and covering his chest.

“So,” Natalie lead me over to a plush recliner, “you get to give him some love today.”

I frowned, but listened to her when she asked me to wash my hands, remove my jacket, and long-sleeved shirt. She gave me a wraparound blanket to cover my shoulders, and then held Kyle out to me. He was so small, I was afraid to take him in case he broke.

“Hold him to your chest,” instructed Natalie, “and then wrap the blanket around both of you.”

I did as she asked, a little nervous at first. “Like this?”

“Perfect.”

I cradled Kyle, and slowly started rocking while Natalie fetched another newborn. She followed the same process I did, taking a seat in the recliner beside mine. She then explained that babies who were born premature, or with severe health problems benefited from skin-to-skin contact, the way a mother kangaroo carries her baby in her pouch.

“We do this for the babies who are abandoned,” she added quietly, her voice gentle but cheerless. “They find comfort in hearing your heartbeat, and feeling the warmth of your body.”

It was incredible, really, and an oddly satisfying experience. I wanted to fill the silence by talking, but I was a little too enraptured by the tiny person in my arms. He was sleeping, and I kind of envied that sense of peace. They say that babies are incredibly perceptive, that they can easily respond to our moods, and with everything I had going on lately, I was surprised the little guy was able to find calm amongst my inner chaos.

We started talking about Natalie and Connor’s wedding. They’d been together since high school, although it wasn’t the clichéd romance. Connor was the nerdy jock — pretty sure he made that a thing — and Natalie was the head cheerleader. I knew from the first time he brought her home that they’d be ‘forever’ and I loved her like a sister instantly. In a house full of men, Natalie was the one who told me about periods, and how stupid high school boys can be. She took me shopping for my first bra and gave me the ‘safe sex’ talk when I was fifteen. In many ways she fulfilled the role a Mom would fill during her daughters’ formative years, and because of that we were bonded together like family already.

“Connor told me you had a panic attack.”

Natalie’s voice was so soft I almost didn’t catch what she said.

I met her gaze, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” I paused, “I wish everyone would stop worrying so much though.”

“You know that’s never going to happen, Kenzi. Your Dad and your brothers had a rough time when you were here.”

Guilt surfaced its way through my chest, and my breathing hitched. “I’m just…it’s just hard, you know? How am I supposed to get back to my life with their constant hovering all the time? They’re always asking me if I remember something about the accident, or anything that happened before the accident, and it only makes me feel more exasperated and tired.”

Natalie pursed her lips, adjusting her position when the little girl in her arms started fussing. “Have you tried keeping a journal?”

“I’m not sure how that would help,” I told her honestly.