“I’ll take you home with me.”
Sylvia continued, “You can sleep in your old room for a few hours, shower, and go straight to work.”
I felt like the whole waiting room had tilted.
“Sylvia. What are you doing?”
She turned toward me.
“I’m helping my son.”
“We’re waiting for a doctor.”
“I’m helping my son.”
“I can see that, but he has an important meeting in the morning and needs his rest.”
I looked at Ethan.
He looked at the floor.
That hurt more than anything Sylvia was saying.
“I’m exhausted too,” I said.
Sylvia’s face changed.
That hurt more than anything Sylvia was saying.
She had always been defensive of Ethan, but usually in quieter ways.
She’d bring him food if I mentioned we were both busy. She’d tell me I was “better at soothing the baby” whenever I asked him to take a night feeding.
I had spent months pretending those things were harmless.
At two in the morning, in front of a room full of strangers, she stopped pretending.
I had spent months pretending those things were harmless.
“He didn’t sign up for this much stress!” she snapped.
Several people looked over.
Sylvia pointed toward Nora.
“You’re the mother. Figure it out.”
The words hit me strangely.
“He didn’t sign up for this much stress!”
I didn’t cry or yell.
My body just became very calm.
I stood, adjusted Nora against my shoulder, and looked directly at Ethan.
“Then I guess he didn’t sign up to be her father.”
Sylvia scoffed.
I ignored her.
I didn’t cry or yell.
“Ethan.”
He finally looked at me.
“If you walk out those doors while your four-month-old daughter is waiting to see an emergency-room doctor, don’t tell yourself tomorrow that you just needed sleep.”
His face changed.
“Tell yourself the truth.”
“Don’t tell yourself tomorrow that you just needed sleep.”
For the first time that night, I stopped trying to convince him to stay.
I wanted to see what he would choose when nobody made the choice for him.
His mouth opened.
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
I could see something happening behind his eyes. Fear, maybe. Shame.
He had a choice.
I wanted to see what he would choose
I honestly believed he would take his coat from Sylvia and sit down beside me.
Instead, Sylvia said, “Ethan, come on.”
And he followed her outside.
I watched the automatic doors close behind them.
Until that moment, I’d been wondering whether my husband would really leave.
Now I had my answer. The question was what I was going to do about it.
I had my answer.
Nora let out a cracked whimper and weakly clutched at my shirt.
I kissed the side of her head.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, trying not to cry.
I wasn’t sure whether I was speaking to her or myself.
***
A doctor finally saw us about thirty minutes later.
I wasn’t sure whether I was speaking to her or myself.
Nora needed fluids and medication.
They ran tests and monitored her for several hours. The fever slowly began to come down.
I spent the entire time alone.
Around five in the morning, while Nora slept against my chest with a tiny hospital bracelet around her wrist, I called my older brother, Daniel.
He answered on the second ring.
I spent the entire time alone.
“Claire?”
“I need help.”
His voice sharpened immediately.
“Where are you?”
“The hospital.”
“What happened?”
“I need help.”
I told him.
Not everything.
Just enough.
When I finished, he was silent.
Then he said, “Tell me what you need.”
No excuses. No questions about work. No explanation of how tired he was.
“Tell me what you need.”
For some reason, that nearly made me cry when nothing else had.
By ten, Nora’s fever had finally come down enough for the doctor to send us home with medication, strict instructions, and a follow-up appointment.
I checked my phone while Daniel pulled the car around.
Nothing from Ethan.
I checked my phone
Not a call.
Not a text.
He didn’t know whether Nora had been admitted, discharged, or gotten worse.
Apparently, he could live with not knowing.
I put my phone back in my bag.
