Enough Page 5

  I struggled through the two-hour class and met Gwen in the hall. After countless questions and several freak-outs between us, she convinced me to get checked out. She even drove me to the doctor herself. It turned out I was in early labor and probably wouldn’t deliver for hours. But, since my blood pressure was so high, they decided to admit me right away to monitor both the baby and me.

  I can hear her in the hall.

  “Where the fuck are you? Do you know how many phone calls we’ve made to you between the two of us? Your wife is in labor, you piece of crap. Get your ass over here or so help me God I’ll come find you myself.”

  She races back in with a forced smile on her contorted face, and even though I seriously think I may die from the pain, I can’t help but laugh at her expression. “What were you doing?” As if I didn’t know.

  “Just checking my messages,” she lies, trying not to upset me.

  “I heard you,” I say as I cringe with a sharp pain under what used to be my belly button.

  She grabs my hand and I see her scowl. “That mother-fucking piece of shit! I may kill him before he sees this child.”

  I don’t want to laugh, I want to cry from the pain, but her angry face always makes me smile. Of course, that’s only true when her anger isn’t directed at me.

  Trying to convince her but mostly myself, I respond, “I’m sure he’s on his way.”

  “His fingers better be broken and his ear dangling from a thread. There’s no reason for him not to call you back or text after this long.”

  “Call who back?” Grandma Kay asks as she rounds the corner into my room with two big teddy bears—one pink and one blue.

  She leans down and kisses my head. The fur from the pink bear rubs against my arm and makes me cringe along with her kiss. Even though both are soft, I really don’t want to be touched at all. I swear everything hurts.

  “Why did you get one of each?” Gwen asks. Her head darts to mine. “You’re not having twins, are you?” she shrieks.

  “God n— Gosh no,” I correct myself.

  “I like to be prepared,” Grandma Kay interjects. “Since we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, I’ll just take the loser back to the store.” I watch Gwen hug her and then take the bears, placing them on the ledge by the window. Grandma Kay sits on the corner of the bed.

  “So, where’s Mike?” she asks, her head twisting and turning to examine the room.

  “He’s not here,” Gwen interjects.

  “Not here? Did you call him?” Grandma asks.

  “Oh, she called him all right. I called him too and texted him, and called him again and left him a few choice messages.”

  Grandma Kay twitches her nose and fiddles with her watch, saying nothing in response. I can tell she wants to but seems to think better of it.

  “Let’s talk names,” she says instead. “Have you picked them yet?”

  “Yeah, Ev. Let’s talk names. I’m dying to hear what my godchild’s name will be.”

  The pain is making me uncomfortable, and I twist and turn, trying to find a position to make it stop. Nothing works. I finally sit up and Gwen helps to adjust my pillows.

  “Gwenny, did Everly ever tell you where she got her name?”

  “No, she didn’t.” Gwen flops down on the bed with a grin and I shoot her an evil glare, which goes unappreciated. Apparently neither one of them notices my frustration with their proximity to my skin. It’s then I realize proximity hurts too. They continue their conversation, oblivious to me.

  “Well, my son’s name was Everett. When he met Everly’s mom, he just knew. I remember the day he first spoke to her. He was fifteen years old. He came running in the front door all out of breath. I asked him why his face was all red and why he wore a smile that looked like he was posing for a dental commercial. He told me, ‘Ma, I just met the girl I’m gonna marry.’ And I’ll be dammed if he didn’t do just that.”

  I smile briefly for the distraction, and although I love hearing stories about my parents, I secretly wish they would focus on the girl in bed who’s about to become one.

  “Wait, so she’s named after her dad?” Gwen asks.

  “There’s more,” Grandma Kay says as she swats the invisible air. “So Everly’s momma’s name was Leena Ray. Prettiest little thing I ever saw next to Everly. When they found out they were havin’ a baby… Oh my! You’d a thought they’d just won the lottery. They couldn’t wait to find out if she was a boy or a girl, and her daddy was just thrilled to pieces to find out he was having a little Leena. So Leena wanted to name her Eve after Everett and Everett wanted to name her Leah after Leena. They decided to meet in the middle, and Everly it was!”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet. Ev, how come you never told me that?”

  They both turn toward me, and the last thing I remember seeing is panic and horror on their faces.

  THE PAIN IS intense as my eyes flicker open. I’m being wheeled into another room and the lights are bright and blinding. I’m scared, and I try to speak, but there’s a mask over my mouth. My hands reach out for something to grab, and that’s when I see Mike’s face. He’s here. He made it.

  “It’s okay, Everly. You’re going to be just fine,” he whispers. He doesn’t appear confident in that statement.

  A blue sheet is lifted to separate my body in half, and I recognize I’m having a cesarean, but I don’t know why. The fear grips me as if I were on a roller coaster ride, holding on for dear life, the dear life of my baby. I let go of Mike’s hand and raise the mask from my mouth. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Is it okay?”

  Mike kisses my forehead and pulls my hair away from my face. “The baby’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Just as he says the words, I can feel pressure. It’s then that I realize I’m no longer in pain. I feel tugging and pulling, but no pain. How is that possible? “Is it out? Is it a boy or girl? Why don’t I hear anything? Oh God, please! Why don’t I hear her?”

  The nurse leans down and looks me in the eyes. “Everly, you need to stay calm. You don’t hear her crying because they haven’t gotten her out yet. Her heartbeat is strong, but it’s important that you try to relax and take deep breaths, okay?”

  I nod my head, and she places the mask over my mouth once more. I feel Mike’s hand in mine and I clench on to him. He stares at me, and I can tell he’s doing his best to act unaffected. He leans in and kisses my forehead.

  “Have I told you lately how much I love you two?” he asks. I see a single tear roll down his cheek, and I know he’s scared. I nod my head. I need to make him feel okay. I need him to know I won’t let anything be wrong. I’ve got this. I’m a London—I mean a Haley—and I’m strong.

  I lift my mask. “Everything is going to be fine. I can feel it. Don’t worry, okay?”

  It’s his turn to nod, and he smiles appreciatively. I remember how hard it is for him to be level headed when things are tough. I’m the strong one. I need to be strong enough for all three of us. I close my eyes and offer a prayer. I’ll give anything if you just let her be healthy and safe.

  I hear a loud wail and my eyes dart open. The doctor holds the baby up so I can see. “It’s a boy!”

  Mike and I laugh, although our laughter sounds more like sobs. A boy. We have a son. I’m instantly relieved and thankful. I had faith he was going to be okay, and I was right. We were both strong. “Kale…” I say as I lift my mask. “His name is Kale. It sounds like Kay, and it means faithful in Hebrew and strong in Hawaiian.”

  Mike stares at me and smiles. “Anything you want. Anything…”

  MY STOMACH FEELS like shit. I have staples running the length of what used to be my bikini line and a newborn baby. How do women do this? I was in the hospital for a week to monitor both Kale and me, and we were both doing well. I had preeclampsia, and I guess I passed out while Gwen and Grandma Kay were talking. Grandma Kay decided to move into the hospital while I was there. She was a lifesaver. Her encouragement and baby instructions
were invaluable.

  I never knew I could feel so many emotions all at once. The minute they laid him in my arms, I was deeply in love. I’d never known love like this before. I felt a combination of fear, awe, and heart-constricting joy. He was perfect and six pounds, seven ounces of cuteness.

  I dreaded going to Mike’s parents’, but they have actually been extremely supportive and kind. Mike’s mom has really helped me a lot these first few weeks. Not only have I gone through some of the most insane night sweats, but I’ve had a ton of irrational fears of Kale being hurt. Mike’s mom thinks it’s hormonal. It makes me feel a small semblance of relief to know I’m not losing my mind.

  I miss my mom more than ever. I dream of her and my father holding Kale. My dad would have adored him. Even though we never had much money, my parents made up for a lack of things with incredible amounts of love. There’s something about having a baby that makes a girl want her mother. I’m so scared. I know Mike knows nothing about babies, so I feel completely responsible for Kale.

  Mike is really good about getting up to help with him but when finals come around, he disappears. I know he’s stressed, and I secretly wish I could take my finals too, but my instructors have given me extra time. If I don’t take them, the whole semester will have been wasted. I fully intend on going back at some point. We both still have a year left of college, but only Mike will be finishing school right now. I will be caring for the new love of my existence. I don’t regret the decision as I hold him. I couldn’t have left him anyway. I’m addicted to his smell and the way he wrinkles his nose while he’s sleeping. Life will work itself out. I just know it.

  “OKAY, KALE, TIME to get in the shower. School tomorrow.” Kale shoots me a look of fear, and somehow I know the night is about to take a turn for the worse.

  “What?” I ask with concern.

  “I forgot I have math homework.”

  “Kale!” I feel the blood begin to boil under my skin. He enjoyed his Sunday with his dad, but I asked him repeatedly if he was certain he didn’t have homework. Now it’s 8:15 and he suddenly remembers right before bed? “How many times did I ask you about homework today? How many?” My hands fly to my hips and my voice rises both an octave and a few decibels.

  “I didn’t want to ruin the movie so I fibbed. Then I forgot.”

  “You lied? What have I told you about lying?” His lips purse and he rolls his eyes at me. Oh hell no.

  “I forgot, okay?” he says with the attitude of an angry teenager rather than a ten-year-old pre-pubescent child.

  “I forgot” is a learned expression from his father that I’ve heard way too many times over the years. The eye roll is new and sends me over the edge. It has been a long day of kitchen duties and insane amounts of laundry. I sat down for five minutes the entire day and my exhaustion level is nearing the edge of insanity. I thought I had thirty minutes until I could have some me time. Thirty minutes until they were in bed and the night was mine. Now there’s homework to be done. Blood boiling… “Don’t you ever roll your eyes at me! Do you know how angry I am? How frustrated I am?”

  Mike approaches with his fingers in his ears. “I think we can all tell you’re angry. You’re going to cause us hearing damage with the yelling.”

  I watch as Kale laughs and makes eye contact with his father. He slides his fingers into his ears to mimic Mike. What’s the stage of anger after boiling? Nuclear explosion? I’m pretty sure I’m about to blow.

  I pull Mike’s arm away from Kale and attempt to whisper in my nuclear voice. “Don’t put me down in front of him. You do this all the time.”

  My whisper is met with his full voice plus a degree. “I just think you’re overreacting. So he has homework. He forgot.” He shrugs. “We can’t all be perfect like you.”

  Kale wrinkles his nose at me. “Yeah, Mom. Why do you think I need to be perfect like you?”

  I have a moment. I feel my heart constrict. I remember lovingly watching that nose wrinkle and thinking it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Now I suddenly want to grab him and shake the condescending expression off his face. Right after I slap it off his father’s.

  “How dare either of you turn this on me! I asked you repeatedly…”

  “You’re beating a dead horse, Everly. Kale, get your book and start it now.”

  “Will you help me?”

  “I need to go finish a report for work tomorrow.”

  “But Dad, I need help. I don’t understand it.”

  “Well, I have my own homework to do. Just do your best.”

  Mike trudges up the stairs and Kale’s eyes fall to the floor. I’m still seeing red, so I make way back into the laundry room and the stack of socks that need to be sorted.

  “Mom…” Marlow calls from the bathroom. “I forgot a washcloth.”

  “Mike… can you get a Marlow a washcloth?” I yell toward the stairs. No response. I sigh and trudge up them. Mike is lying on the bed laughing at something he’s reading on his phone, and I feel like I want to scream. Instead, I get Marlow her washcloth.

  “Privacy, Mom!” she shrieks as I enter the room.

  “How exactly do you expect me to bring you a washcloth without coming in here? I can’t even see you behind the curtain. Here… I’ll toss it over.”

  I wait for it but hear nothing. “Do you have something to say to me?” I ask her.

  “Oh. Thank you.” Her half-hearted response makes me cringe.

  I amble down the stairs and hear Kale’s light sobs. I take a deep breath to steady myself. “Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t understand this. I’m stupid!” He slams his book closed and leans his head on his arms.

  “You’re not stupid! You’re tired. When you’re tired everything is ten times harder.”

  “I wasn’t tired on Friday when Mrs. Romano explained it, and I didn’t get it then, either. I’m just dumb! Dumb, dumb, dumb!”

  “Stop it, Kale! Show me what you’re having trouble with.”

  I stare at problem after problem and realize I don’t remember any of it. I’m not sure when they started teaching ten-year-olds the things I learned in high school, but I’m pretty sure his math homework is harder than it should be for his age. After watching a few YouTube videos, I’m finally able to walk him through a problem his book didn’t explain. This new educational policy is for the birds.

  An hour later, after I left Kale with a problem to work on while I put Marlow to bed, I think he’s finally catching on.

  He yawns and holds his head up with his hand. “I don’t want to do any more. I’m tired.”

  “I’m tired too, Kale, but we need to finish. It’s the last one. This is what happens when you wait until the last minute to do your homework. Now, remember what we just did in the last problem? It’s very similar. Now, are they asking for area or perimeter?”

  “I don’t know,” he mumbles. I glance at him, and he’s focused on how long he can make his retractable pencil lead extend.

  “Kale, math! Pay attention.”

  “I’m tired!”

  “It’s perimeter. See, they want the distance around the rectangle.”

  “You’re not teaching him anything by doing his work for him.”

  I turn to see Mike standing behind me with crossed arms.

  “You’re rewarding him for waiting by doing his homework for him.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m explaining it.”

  “From where I stand and what I heard, you’re just telling him the answers.”

  “Well, if you thought you could teach him better, you should have been down here helping instead of watching videos on your phone.”

  “I’ve been working, Everly. I took a five-minute break.” He turns and makes his way to the stairs. He says it under his breath, but I still hear it. “You’re such a bitch.”

  “What did you just say?” I shout.

  “You heard me. Everyone would be a lot happier around here if we didn’t have to listen to your whining a
nd complaining all the time.”

  The anger and frustration takes over. As I stomp to the stairs, I yell, “Who do you think you are, you selfish ass? You do nothing around here to help and you criticize me? Do you think the lawn cuts itself? Do you think the food cooks itself and the dishes jump happily into the water? How do you think your shirts get cleaned and ironed? Magic?”

  “Oh, here we go again. Poor Everly, your life is so hard!” he whines in supposed mock of how I sound and adds a pouted lower lip.

  “Mom?” Kale asks. “Can I go to bed now?”

  I turn on my heel back to Kale. I’m not sure if I want to cry or hit something. I’m tired of Mike, of laundry, of attitudes, and especially of math homework. “It’s forty. The length is twelve plus w, and since the width is four, that makes the length sixteen. Add all four sides together and you get forty. Okay?”

  Mike continues up the stairs making sure to add, “Nice. Yeah, you’re really teaching him. Good job, Everly.”

  Kale writes down the answer and yawns. “Get to bed,” I tell him. “I’ll clean this up and pack up your stuff for tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” he says earnestly. “I’m sorry for being so crabby and waiting so long.”

  “It’s okay, baby. Just go brush your teeth. It’s late. It won’t kill you to skip a shower one day.”

  I put his book and homework into his backpack and pull out the bread and lunchmeat to make lunches.

  A few minutes later, I hear, “Mom, are you coming to tuck me in?”

  I tread up the stairs and into his room. He climbs into bed and I pull the covers up over him, kissing his head. “I love you, Kale.”