Who’s all going?
Bubbles appear and disappear… There's a pause this time. Long enough for me to notice, twisting my stomach into knots, just as my mind begins to spiral, a message comes through.
Lex:
Just us. Maybe some friends of his, from the gym.
I don’t ask which friends. I don’t ask about the exact location. I don’t even ask myself why my pulse suddenly feels too loud in my ear. I just let things be.Simply exist.No matter how scared I might be of trying new things, I go for it. Because if I ask, it makes things real. And I've spent weeks learning to exist without bracing for my trauma to collide with me at every corner. Glancing at my reflection catching on the window, I’m content with what I see. Sure, I’m tired, the bags beneath my eyes prove it, but there’s a spark in my eyes now. I watch my lips curl into a crooked smile before looking down at my phone and replying.
Me:
Fine. One drink.
Her response is immediate.
Lex:
That’s my girl. I’ll be there in thirty.
Thirty minutes, my eyes go wide, but I don’t argue. I simply put the phone down and press my hand against my chest until my heartbeat evens out. I don’t know why I feel so restless, I don’t know why my mind is running with possible scenarios, but I shake them off…
This is justa night out.
Isaac
“You know, you should go home and sleep.”
I don’t look up right away, but by the sound of her voice, I know it’s the night nurse, Betty. A woman old enough to be my mother, kind and outspoken. Short in height and with a bob that reminds me of Edna fromThe Incredibles. I keep my arms folded tight across my chest as I stand beside the incubator. The little guy got upgraded, now that he learned to not only regulate his temperature but also his breathing. Pride fills my chest at the strides he’s made sincearriving in the world. My eyes zone in on his small chest, watching as it steadily rises and falls. The beeping sounds of the machine are white noise I’ve learned to live with.
“You ever decide on a name?” Betty casually asks while she checks something on the tablet in her hand. I exhale loudly, not sure what to say. Or how to even answer it without feeling the need to explain myself. My gaze remains on him, so small, swaddled up in his blue blanket. The question feels bigger than it should, as if when I say it out loud, it steals something I’ve been holding my breath over for weeks.
Finally, after reflecting for a few seconds longer, I whisper, “I have.”
Little does she know she’s the first person I’ll have told this to. Betty looks up, her dark eyebrows lifting, beaming with excitement. I can already see the small smile forming on her thin lips. “You want to tell me, or am I finding out when he’s released from here?”
In so many ways, Betty reminded me of my mother. I think it's the sarcasm. Or maybe the warmth she brings into the room when she’s around. Exhaling through my nose, “Lucas.”
Betty nods once, like it makes sense. Like if she somehow knew it was always going to be that. His name felt fitting for him. Even after I searched for hours for a name that would come close to what he means to my life. I would always circle back to this one. I have to admit my conversations with her helped make my decision. She has been with us every step of the way. Even witnessed Priscilla’s goodbye to him.
“Lucas,” she repeats softly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “That’s a good name.”
My throat feels tight. It has nothing to do with his name, but the reason why I kept it. Why I made the decision for him to keep the only piece of his mother he would ever know?His name. “His mother picked it,” I add, still trying to find a reason to explain the reason behind it. Maybe I’m judging myself for it, I don’t know… Dragging my hand down my face, I continue to say, “It means light, and through all this, that is what he is, a beacon of light.”
Betty’s facial expression doesn’t change. If anything, it softens further. “Then that's his name. Doesn’t matter how it started. What matters is what it becomes.”
I smile at that, and my gaze drops back to him. Watching the faint creases between his brows, the quiet fight is still in him even when he sleeps. That boy is gonna be trouble, I know it. I feel it in my bones.My Trouble. I suck in my bottom lip and nod. “Now that we have his name figured out. How about you go home and rest?” she adds in.
I don’t hesitate as I shake my head, a clear no, before dragging my hand over my face again. My body is exhausted. Even my mind, if that’s a thing. My fingers brush over the rough stubble along my jaw. My phone vibrates in my pocket at the same time. I pull it out without thinking, thumb already unlocking the screen. Betty moves beside me, continuing her charting.
“You know we will hate to keep him due to an exhausted father,” she says, unimpressed. “People need sleep, even parents.” I don’t reply because I’m too busy skimming over the message my lawyer just sent me while she reprimands me.
Priscilla signed over her parental rights. Also agreed to no contact.
Exhaling through my nose, my hands shake as it holds on to my phone. My shoulders drop before I can stop them, and relief spreads through my body at the news. Pressure builds behind my eyes. I can’t believe it.It’s over. So many emotions rapidly fire inside of me, but I cling to one, and that'sgratitude. One that fills me with hope and enthusiasm. I’m so thankful that she let him go, that she loved him enough to understand that he’s better off never knowing she existed. That his beginning wasn’t in that basement but here in this room, where he fought for his place in this cruel and beautiful world. Finally, I respond to Betty, “I'll go to sleep soon.”
She tuts softly. “You’ve been saying that for weeks.” Her voice isn’t unkind… it sounds like a mother who’s tired of her son's excuses. “Go home. Take a real shower. Sleep in a real bed. We don’t discharge newborns to zombies.”
That earns a tired huff of a laugh from me. Yeah, she definitely reminds me of my mother. I take one final glance at my phone. Rereading the message as if it might change if I don’t give it my full attention. The words instantly settle the storm inside me, the clouds spread, allowing the sun to peek back in. Fuck was it a relief not have to fight. It’s over…
