An enormous blue sheet was lifted over her head, blocking our view of the bottom half of her body and she just smiled up at me. What if something bad happened? I wouldn’t live here without her. I wouldn’t do this without her. Fuck me. Do they not realize I’m taller than the damn sheet? The surgeon is slicing her open on my favorite place to lick her skin and my knees began to buckle.
“Look at me, Shane,” she whispered.
I tore my eyes from all the blood and found calmness in her silver irises. Grabbing her hand, I held onto her tightly with both my hands. I never wanted to let her go, not now, not ever. We just stared at each other, both of us beyond terrified, until the miraculous sounds of our baby’s cries filled the room.
With tears in my eyes, I was handed a perfect little life, wrapped tightly in a pink blanket, with the brightest bluish-gray eyes I had ever seen. “Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!” The nurses yelled.
I held on to her with trembling hands, kissed her wrinkled little forehead, and gently placed her into Grace’s arms.
I was in complete awe.
I dropped to my knees. Thank you God for letting me live this.
“Hi, little Emma Grace. I’m your mommy, and your big goofy daddy is somewhere on the floor,” I heard my wife coo softly. Everything was perfect, so perfect.
They took Emma into the nursery, finished stitching up Grace, and moved her into the recovery room while the nurse escorted me out into the hallway. She told me a whole bunch of crap I didn’t listen to, because I just wanted to run through the hospital telling everyone what just happened. I dashed away from the nurse and ran, just ran up to anyone and everyone I saw, and told them my wife just gave me a baby girl. A healthy baby girl. When I rounded the last corner, my feet fumbled underneath me when I thought I saw a familiar face offering me a small smile and a wink, but it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. It was not going to happen. The face melted in with the other people in the crowded hallway, but I stood there tense and angry.
Moving forward, I searched more closely into the faces as they stepped onto an open elevator, but I didn’t see anyone I was looking for. Restlessness falls over my muscles, and I quickly walked back to the nursery where my daughter was. Behind the huge glass window that kept the newborns safe, the nurses cleaned my daughter and wrapped her sleeping form. I laid my hand on the cool glass, in awe.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Shane.” A deep voice came up from behind me. When I turned, I was face to face with a smiling Michael.
“Thank you, Michael. Look at her, she’s perfect,” I pointed to Emma sleeping in her little plastic hospital bassinet with the giant sign on the front of it that read: EMMA MAXTON. Sleeping in the bassinet next to her was Conner’s daughter, LILY HART. I still couldn’t believe this happened on the same day.
“Perfect,” Michael agreed.
I tilted my head back towards Michael, “I think I just saw our old friend, Michael.”
He leaned his back against the wall and slowly placed his bronze hands in his front pockets. He kept his stare straight ahead on my sleeping daughter. There was a long pause before the angel responded with a stoic blank stare. “Evil can never hide itself for too long, Shane. Its ego is too big not to be heard or seen for so long.”
We stood in front of the nursery window for a long time, watching Emma and Lily peacefully sleeping. We stood together silently, until the sun shifted itself across the sky outside, until more little bundles were carried in and other families celebrated new life. We stood there, until we felt that we could truly look at one another again, with the knowledge that this story may or may not end here. That this, that we, could be touched by evil again.
“I will never let him hurt my family,” I said.
Michael slowly leaned forward and pushed himself off the wall. Down the hallway, I could hear the voices of my friends running to meet the babies. Alex and Mollie ran around the corner first, holding hands and about five dozen pink and white balloons. Ethan, Brayden and Tucker followed behind with giant smiles plastered on their faces, each holding two enormous teddy bears each.
Michael clapped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed me gently. “Gabriel may never show his face again. We won’t know until he makes his next move.” His hand fell to his side and he walked past me towards the exit sign, “Until then, just love them fiercely.”
The End
At least until Shane sings to me again…
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Christine Zolendz, Scars and Songs
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