Another One Bites the Dust (30 page)

  It was weird to have a mother that worried if you ate healthy.  To have a father that worried about you being able to fix the heater in your truck, asking if he could help in any way.  Hell, it was even different to have a brother that wanted to hang out and play video games with you.  My sister did that as well, but she wasn’t a man, and there were just some things that you couldn’t say in front of your baby sister.

As we were leaving that night, I felt weird.  Like I had something great, and I should hold on tight, or I might lose it.  If I looked away for even a second, it’d be gone.  The feeling continued as we shivered in the heater less truck.  It’d started to sleet as we pulled out of the driveway.  I drove slowly due to the multiple people who were driving like they’d never seen it rain before.

A parked car with its flashers on caught my attention about a quarter mile ahead of us.  As I slowed, I had that feeling.  The one that made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck and arms.  The one that no trained soldier ignored when they were battle trained and tested.

Some instinct told me to turn around.  To go back the way we came.  Slowing, I came to a stop and started to swing a U-turn just as a car barreled out of a dirt road and t-boned the blazer.  Normally, this wouldn’t have even been a problem since I have a lifted truck.  At worse, all they could do was damage the tires.  Except this was no ordinary vehicle.  This was a monster.  Its headlights were level with mine, and I knew this was going to be bad before it happened.

My arm was thrown out uselessly over Payton’s chest to keep her in her seat, but it didn’t help.  The impact was indescribable.  The sound of metal crunching and screeching will forever be imbedded in my brain.  Lights flashed.  Then there were sirens in the distance.  Pops and ticks from the now dead engine.

Time passed slowly.  It took me a few minutes after the impact to realize that the vehicle that hit us left.  A young girl was on the roof of the Blazer, asking questions.  My brain was fuzzy, and I couldn’t comprehend what she was asking.  I turned my head towards Payton, and saw her slumped forward in her seat.

The seatbelt kept the majority of her body upright.  Her head lolled to the side furthest away from the window.  Blood was oozing out of a cut on her forehead, blood running out of her left ear, and suddenly my brain came back online.  Releasing my seatbelt, I scrambled over the console and made note of her injuries.  The whole right side of her body was a massive bruise.  Already, purple splotches were popping up on the side of her face.  I left her where she was; too concerned for her neck and spine to move her before I knew what was wrong. 

It was a few minutes of holding her head steady against the back of the seat when paramedics and volunteer fire departments arrived.  They used the Jaws of Life to open the passenger side door, and then they immobilized her neck with a c-collar.  Then transferred her to a bright yellow backboard.

Her belly poked out from underneath her blood stained t-shirt, and all I could think about was that laying there like that, she in no way resembled a heifer.  She looked like a broken god damned doll. 

Two paramedics were frantically working on either side of her, and I dropped to my knees and watched as they ripped her shirt and placed sticky pads onto her chest, and then hooked her up to a monitor.  I watched as the line stayed straight across the screen.

Shouldn’t it be moving up and down?

The closest medic to me started doing chest compressions, and I watched the line jump up and down in time with his hands.  The other medic breathed for her, and it was then I realized I was crying.  Big fat tears were rolling down my face. I reached my hand up to touch my face, and then looked down at my hand.  It was covered in blood.

“Clear.”  A voice clipped.

I looked up in time to see Payton’s body bow up off the backboard.  Nearly two feet separated her back and the yellow plastic.

“I’ve got a pulse!”  The closest medic cheered.

Relief swept through me, and I watched through my cloudy haze as they loaded her into the ambulance.  A cop’s strong grip on my arm stopped me from following them.  I was surprised enough that I stopped, and the ambulance was able to pull away before I was able to get to it.

“Let go!”  I said frantically.

I knew I wasn’t rational.  Something was wrong.  Something was keeping me from functioning correctly.  I felt like I was a witness to this, rather than a participant.

“Sir, let me get you in my cruiser and we’ll follow the ambulance.”  He said as he helped me into his front seat.

As soon as I sat down, I must have passed out, because I woke up again as I was being transferred to a gurney at the entrance to the hospital.  I was taken straight back into the belly of the ER, and nurses and doctors flitted around me like butterflies.

“Sir, can you tell me what happened?”  Someone asked me.

I turned my head to the left and up, spotting a young male doctor with a flashlight.  “We were in a wreck.  My wife.”

I tried to sit up, but something was holding me down.  “Payton!”  I yelled.

The slamming of doors brought my attention to the front of the ER as long blonde hair, Cheyenne, came running into the room.  She was wearing her nursing scrubs, and her face showed concern as she looked around the room wildly.  She hesitated when she saw something in the room beside me, but came to a decision when she spotted me looking at her.

She ran towards me, and then placed her hand on the side of my face.  “Hey, Maxie Poo.  You look like shit.”

“Don’t call me that, twerp.”  I said searching her face.  “Why isn’t anyone telling me about Payton?”

She smiled at me.  “She’s in the next room over.  Let me go check on her.” 

I watched as she walked out of my room, and then to the left.  I once again tried to get up, but my body wasn’t cooperating.  I prayed.  For the first time since my parents died, I prayed.

Everything went black, and I slept.

ɸ

I opened my eyes to a white wall.  Looking over, I found myself in the ER room I was in earlier, but the chaos surrounding me was gone.  Cheyenne was still there, hovering beside me, watching the hallway.  Beside her were my sister and Gabe.

“She okay?”  I rasped.

Ember came over to me, and wrapped her arms around me.  I grimaced, but hugged her back.  “They took her to surgery.  We don’t know what’s wrong.”

I closed my eyes on a fresh wave of tears.  “Find me someone to talk to.”  I said as I forced myself to stand up.

“Stay down.”  A nurse barked from the doorway.

I glanced at her, but disregarded her, and stood up on shaky feet.  I yanked the IV out of my vein, and threw it to the floor.  “Where’re my pants?”

“I told you to stay down.”  The nurse with no bedside manner said to me trying to sit me down on the bed again.

I pushed her away from me instead, and found my jeans that now sported new rips on the outside seams.  Disgusted, I threw them back down again, and walked out to the main room.  Spotting a doctor, I walked up to him.

“Can you tell me anything on the pregnant woman who was in the room beside me?”  I asked him.

He looked at me, and worry crossed his brow.  “She’s got internal bleeding.  The baby was in distress as well.  They took her up to surgery about ten minutes ago.  Now I think you need to sit down, or you might fall down.” 

“I need some pants, and I need to know how to get to where she’s at.”  I demanded.

He looked at me with pity until the look on my face registered with him.  “This way.”

He found me some scrub pants, and a scrub shirt, and then instructed me to get into a wheel chair.  I sat since he looked like he wasn’t going to budge on this one.

“Nurse Rodgers.  Please escort this young man to the surgical waiting room.”  The young doctor instructed the bitchy nurse that was staring daggers at me.

“But sir, he’s got a concussion, and broken ribs.”  She protested.

“I don’t need her.  Cheyenne.  Take me.”  I said and snapped my fingers.

Cheyenne jumped, and took ahold of my wheel chair, pushing me away from the protesting nurse.  Gabe and Ember followed behind.  All silent.

“I’m going to see if we can get onto the actual floor; if I can’t we will have to go to the waiting room.”  Cheyenne said placing a hand on my shoulder.

I patted her hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything.

The nurses on the surgical floor didn’t mind having us waiting there, so we waited, and we waited, and we waited.  Time crawled to a standstill.  My head was throbbing.  My ribs felt like a mule kicked them, and my sister was silently crying in the corner. 

“Mr. Tremaine?”  A female doctor asked from down the hallway.

I stood, and walked in my bare socks towards her.  Gabe, Cheyenne, and Ember at my back in silent support.

“Are you Payton’s husband?”  She asked.

I was about to nod yes when I saw a rush of white coats and green scrubs rush past us with a clear incubator type thing.  Almost like the one that Payton had rolled the other babies around in, yet not.  This one had a clear plastic top to it with circles on the sides.  Attached to the front was a monitor with numbers lighting up the screen.  Beeping sounds coming from it.

Inside was a tiny little baby the size of a baby doll.  Janie carried one around time to time that resembled it.  It took a few moments for my brain to catch up, but once it did, horror washed over me. 

I took a step in their direction, but was halted by the nurse that still stood in front of me.  I tried to shake her off, but she wouldn’t budge.

Turning towards her in affront, Gabe grabbed my arm and hauled me away from her.  “Listen to her first.”  He said in his deep, demanding voice.

I took a breath in, and let it out slowly.  I nodded in thanks, and then nodded to the doctor who looked relieved to have Gabe standing beside me.

“Payton has some swelling on her brain.  We’re going to keep her in a medically induced coma for now.  She had some bleeding internally as well, but we were able to get that corrected as well.  The baby was in distress, so they delivered her.  She will be in the NICU.  NICU is across the hall from ICU, which is where we’ll be taking Payton as soon as we’re sure she’s stable, and no longer in need of any surgery.”  The doctor explained.

Bile rose in my stomach, but I tamped it down.  I felt lost.  I didn’t know where to go, or what to do.  Then I remembered her parents.

“Her parents.  I need to call her parents.”  I said to Ember.

“We already called them, Max.  They’re in the waiting room.  I’ll go out and talk to them.  You go see that baby of yours.”  Ember said softly.

The doctor touched my arm and said, “I can take you to your daughter, Mr. Tremaine.” 

I followed.  Scared shitless.  A daughter.

Chapter 16

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It’s not.

-The Lorax

Max

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the multiple wires and tubes covering the entirety of my daughter’s body.  She was tiny.  Undeniably tiny.  My wedding ring fit on her ankle she was that tiny.  Payton’s wedding ring fit over her hand, but not quite over her knuckles.  In fact, I was fairly certain she’d fit into a Route 44 cup from Sonic with ease.

“Your daughter is doing remarkably well for only twenty six weeks gestation.  She’s weighing in at one pound fourteen ounces and she’s fourteen inches long.  That’s normal size at this gestation.  She’s on Vapotherm right now, and she’s trying very hard to breathe on her own.  I’m just plain amazed at this.  Most preemies aren’t this well-adjusted in the beginning.  You have a fighter on your hands.  ” Dr. Murray told me.

The thing covering her nose looked like it hurt.  I didn’t want her to hurt.  God, she was so freaking small.

“It’s not hurting her?”  I asked gruffly.

“No.  I assure you, it all looks bad, but she’s fine.  The tube in her mouth is feeding her intravenously.  If she does well on this, then we will try her out on syringes.  Do you know if her mom was wanting to do breast milk or not?  We have an excellent donor program here.  Milk is screened and tested beforehand.”  He said.

I shook my head confused.  “I don’t know.  Is this not something Payton can do?” 

“From what I understand, she’s unconscious.  Now we can probably pump from her, but that’s something you would need to discuss with her doctor first, but if he allows it, then we certainly would love to get it from mom.”  Dr. Murray said as he consulted his chart.

I finally worked up the courage and asked him what I’d been yearning to do.  “Can I hold her?”

He smiled sadly.  “Absolutely.  She’s doing exceptionally well; most babies this age you wouldn’t get to hold for weeks.  You’ve washed before you even entered the room.  She’s stable, and the best thing that can be done right now is what they call kangaroo care.  That’s where you have skin-to-skin contact with the baby.  Normally it’s the mom that does it, but in this case you will do nicely.”

My phone beeped, and I looked at the message.  It was from Jessie, who was staying with Payton.  She’d taken a picture and sent it to me.  I’d asked her to send me periodic updates.  I didn’t care that she was still asleep.  I needed the reassurance. 

The picture was of Tony holding Payton’s hand in his, and he was kissing her forehead.  Tears stung my eyes as I saw the purpling bruises on her face and neck.  I typed out a quick reply, and shoved it back into my pocket.

It killed me that I couldn’t be with both of them, but I knew Payton would want me to be exactly where I am.  She would never want our child alone when she was this new and small.

“This is Eleanor.  She’s our most senior NICU nurse.  She’ll help you get…”  He looked at me questioningly.

I smiled.  The first genuine smile I’d had since we left her parents’ house.  He wanted her name.  Thinking about the discussion we had when she told me how it was going to be lifted my spirits a bit.  “Harleigh Belle.”

“Well isn’t that unique,” She said smiling.  “Payton sure loves talking about you.  She comes in during her lunch break and visits with all of our rug rats.  My husband owns Kawasaki Motors on the corner of 80 and Bill Owens.  I was there that time last year that y’all auctioned off that beauty of a bike at the rally in Tulsa.”  She rambled on and on as she went about straightening wires and cords around Harleigh’s incubator.