Page 101 of In a Word, Yes

“You know I won’t sit down. Whatever it is, out with it. I’m sure it’s going to be okay.”

He reaches out, clasps my upper arms. A steadying grip. “We got a call from Lucy’s neighbor. Chase is at the emergency room being evaluated.”

“Evaluated? What for?”

“Abdominal pain.”

“Pain?How bad?”

“Apparently excruciating.”

“Oh, my poor boy. What do they think? Is it his appendix?Remember that happened with Vanessa? Actually, right around his age.”

“It’s not his appendix. We’ll know more soon.”

Time slows. Then stops. “Oh. I see.” Then, an interminable silence. My mind, flooded with details long suppressed. Every sound, every smell of the hospital where we spent so much time.

Mikey.

I’m seized by nausea. Cover my mouth with my hand. “Are you thinking...?”

“I’m not thinking, Carly. I’m waiting for more information. And you’d be wise to do the same.”

All I know is that my girl has got to be terrorized by the same thoughts that now terrorize me.

And I won’t let her go through this alone.

“I’m sure there’s nothing we can do at this t—”

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right. There is absolutely nothing we can do from here, but...” On a ragged exhale, for no one’s ears but mine, I hear myself whimper, “But she needs her mother.”

“I knew you’d say that. Which is why I’ve booked us a flight. But we need to leave right away.”

Only now do I notice my suitcases already sitting by the door.

This I can do. I can do “go” mode. “I’ll call Yvonne. Let her handle the repercussions. But, babe, we can’t go empty-handed.What’s that candy bar Chase loves?” I’m babbling. Walking in circles. “Would they have them at Walmart?”

Roger draws me into his arms. “Hey ... hey now,” he coos, then pulls back, looks deep into my eyes. “Courage, dear heart.”

Words meant to penetrate.

“Okay, but let’s...”

Oh.

Oh my.

Oh my, what a tender God.

Only now do the tears come.

Thirty-Nine

afterclap(n.): an unexpected damaging or unsettling event following a supposedly closed affair

Lucy’s eyes are swollen, rimmed in red. I perceive everything in them at once, all the layers of anguish.

I see the little girl who once nursed at my breast in the way her eyes reach for mine, filled with longing. For me to fix something. For me to be what she needs.