Page 130 of Even After This
Rolling my luggage, I follow her. “What happened?”
“She fell off a climbing tower on a playground.” The elevator doors slide open, and after we enter, Penelope hits the second-floor button. “Harlan and I were in a meeting when I got the call. The babysitter says Alex was unconscious for three or four minutes. A CT scan shows swelling on the brain.” Her voice wavers. “She’s in the ICU. They have her medically sedated and on a ventilator.” Penelope’s focused gaze shifts to me. “We were all supposed to go to Disneyland tomorrow. That’s the only reason Harlan brought her on this trip.”
I’m stuck on the word “ventilator,” and I rub my chest.
Once we arrive on Alex’s floor, Penelope guides me to the left.
At the end of the hallway, Harlan sits on a bench. His elbows rest on his knees, head in his hands.
I tell myself I’m not allowed to fall apart until this is over.
When I sit next to him, I touch his back. “Harlan?”
Without looking at me, he slumps over and rests his head in my lap. His hands still cover his face, and he begins to shake. I stroke his hair and trace his arm with my fingers as his body racks with sobs.
Nurses, orderlies, and strangers pass. Penelope stands in the corner, arms crossed.
And I hold a broken man in my arms.
Once he sits up, he wipes his face. “I was with her in her room, but I started to lose it.” His eyes well. “I don’t want her to be alone, but I can’t...”
“I can go with you. Would that help? Or do you want me to sit with her until you’re ready?”
He stares at me.
I gave him too many options. He needs direction. “How about this. Grab a snack. Go to the restroom. Take your time. I’ll stay with Alex until you come back.”
When I rise, he squeezes and releases my arm.
Grateful for an actual task that can help Harlan, I head toward Alex’s room.
But when I stand next to her bed, I have to steady myself. My knuckles turn white as I cling to the rail. Her face is oddly peaceful while machines help her little body function. As I study her, I’m blindsided by how I feel for this precious, beautiful girl. We haven’t had much time together, but I care for her. Deeply.
After taking a seat, I scoot the chair in, cringing when it grates against the floor. But when I glance at Alex’s listless body, I wish the noise had woken her.
“Alex, it’s Meredith. Your zoo buddy. Your Play-Doh buddy.” Gingerly, I take her hand in mine. “You’re doing really well. So many people are here taking care of you.” I comb my fingers through her hair. “I’m going to sit with you for a few minutes until your dad gets back.”
When I pull Kleenex out of my purse, my fingers graze the accordion folder full of my children’s pictures.
I didn’t get the chance to fight for my own children. Clayton and Chloe were gone in an instant. But here I sit, my simple, newfound love for this child boundless.
And I feel like I am somehow in a battle for her.
My thoughts shift from waging war to blueprints. I picture a newly renovated boardinghouse. But instead of fourteen rooms, the space is undefined.Don’t limit the love you think you can give.
I’m a warrior for a little girl who isn’t mine. But in this moment, I know there could be room for others.
Tears stream down my face.
With my eyes closed, I whisper prayers. Moments later, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. Harlan’s fingers skim my cheek.
We switch places. He leans into the side of the hospital bed and cradles Alex’s hand.
Keeping an eye on the monitor, I place my palm on his back.
“Hey, doodlebug.” He sips from a water bottle he brought in and places it on the side table. “It’s Daddy. I’m here.” Gone is the unsure, panicked father from earlier. He’s found his footing. Hisvoice steadies and sounds gentle as he offers updates on the day and reassures her of his love.
While Harlan murmurs to his daughter, Penelope signals me from the door. I step out into the hallway.
