A Life Worth Fighting (6 page)

“Because… because I feel exposed.”

I look at her and smile. “I like you being exposed. Are you cold?”

“No, but I’m… exposed,” she says, laughing.

“Maybe I can help.” I down a bottle of water before I lie down beside her. I prop a couple pillows under my ass, too, so we are both exposed. She looks over at my semi hard-on and laughs.

“Don’t laugh; you know it grows.”

“Shut up.” She throws a blanket over us and I am grateful. Now I understand the “feeling exposed” part. We lie on the bed and she reads while I surf the net on the laptop.

“For this to work, you’ll need to stay like this for 12 hours.”

“Let me see that,” she says, reaching over to grab the laptop from my hands. “I can’t stay like this for 12 hours.”

“Relax, I’m kidding.”

“Good, because I have to pee.”

“Wait a few more minutes. I have fast swimmers.”

“I hope so,” she says, laughing, “Because I have to pee, now.”

Leah and I have sparkling cider to celebrate my win once more and to also celebrate life. We make love again and I hold her close as we fall asleep. I dream of my beloved, Leah, and my baby girl, Jamie, and that dreadful day that took her away from me, forever. Leah and I were taking Jamie to the zoo on a Saturday morning. Jamie was so excited. Leah had dressed her in a bright yellow checkered sundress with white sandals. Her long brown hair was in pigtails. Leah was looking beautiful like Jamie and was also wearing a yellow sundress.

I looked at Jamie in the rear view mirror playing with her stuffed rabbit that she had named Jack. She looked so sweet and happy. I remember Leah touched my hand and I thought she had the softest skin I have ever felt.

We were almost there when a car ran a red light and hit us on the driver side. I heard metal, sirens, and screaming.

“Daddy, I have to go.”

“Jamie, stay, I need to make sure you are all right. We had an accident.”

“Daddy, I need to go. I love you and Mommy so much.”

“Where are you going?” I try to open my eyes, but they refuse to open.

“I need to go with Grandma. Daddy, it is so pretty, and you should see all the pretty flowers.”

“Jamie, don’t leave me, I love you,” I cry.

“I love you, too, Daddy. Grandma is waiting for me. Take care of Jack for me.”

I feel something warm and wet on my face. I taste something metallic in my mouth. “We need a body bag,” someone yells, and the sound of that zipper echoes in my head.

I wake up to Leah shaking me. “Robert, Robert, wake up.” I blink a few times and try to calm my racing heart. It wasn’t just a dream, it was a memory.

“Were you dreaming of the accident?” Leah asks. She looks frightened and sad.

“No,” I lie. “It wasn’t the accident,” I say again to try to reassure her. “Go back to sleep, Sweets.” I kiss her and hold her close. I know there won’t be any sleep for me tonight. When I am certain Leah is sound asleep, I get up and head to the basement.

Leah

When I wake up, Robert isn’t in bed with me. I look at the time on the cell phone: It’s 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday and it’s still dark outside. I used to panic when I would wake up and he was gone. I go into the bathroom, put on my robe, and make me a cup of coffee before
heading for the backroom. The song “The Eye of the Tiger” is on repeat and Robert is taking out his frustration on the speed bag. I sit on the chair and watch him. My heart breaks for him. I remember he had a nightmare last night, and I know he was dreaming of the accident that took our Jamie from us. It still haunts us both. When the song pauses to start over again, I say, “You can’t bring her back, you know.”

He wipes his sweaty forehead, removes his gloves, and walks over to turn off the music. “I wish it had been me. I should have died that day, not her.”

I watch as he drinks from a gallon jug of water. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your time.”

“Why, Leah? Why was it her time? Why didn’t God take me and let her live? I lived my life. She was three years old for fuck’s sake.”

I cry and say, “I don’t know why, I don’t have those answers. God, I wish I did. I miss her, too, Robert.” I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. “I didn’t have enough time with her. I wanted longer, I wanted more time to love her.” The tears are a steady stream and I can barely see.

Robert comes over and picks me up and carries me upstairs to bed. Although he is sweaty, I don’t care. We make love until the sun comes up. We both mourn for our little girl. Making love to Robert makes me feel alive and it makes me forget about the constant pain in my heart.

We shower, I make a casserole for the church potluck, and then I toss the sheets in the washer before heading out the door for church. We walk into the church and I see Molly and Adam first. Molly and Adam are newly married and I like them both a lot. I hug them both and Robert hugs Molly next and shakes Adam’s hand. Robert takes the casserole and puts it in the church’s kitchen before we sit down. Alec, Emma, Raelynn, and James join us.

“Hi, kids.”

“Hi, Miss Leah,” they both say.

Emma rubs her big pregnant belly as she sits down beside me. I look over and ask, “Is he kicking?” I always try to respect a pregnant woman’s space, but there is just something about a baby kicking in utero.

“Do you want to feel him?”

I nod and gently place my hand where she says he is kicking. After only a few moments, he kicks and my heart stops.

“That is amazing,” I admit. “I loved it when Jamie would kick me.”

No one mentions Robert’s black eye and I am grateful.

Adam stands and preaches today’s sermon: “A New Life Brings New Meaning
.
” We listen intently to the sermon and Robert holds my hand continually. Sometimes he’ll squeeze my hand and I have to smile. We both want a baby so much and the sermon today brings us hope. After the service, we stay and eat. The church offers a potluck once a month, and we always try to participate in it.

Chapter Two: Two Months Later

Robert

“Is it one blue line or two?” I ask, not looking at the stick.

“I don’t know, and I’m scared to look,” Leah says, laughing.

We are in the bathroom trying to determine whether Leah is pregnant or not. “One of us is going to have to look.” I look down to watch her. She is still on the toilet, holding another pee stick.

She says, “If it’s one blue line, I’m peeing again and I’ll keep on peeing until we get two blue lines.”

I laugh as I get a visual of my wife peeing on a stick until it alerts us that she is, in fact, pregnant.

I say, “On the count of three…”

“You’ll look,” she interrupts.

“No, I was thinking on the count of three, we’ll both look.”

“That’s what I meant to say,” she lies.

“Sure you did. Are you ready?”

She smiles with her eyes closed and says, “One…”

I say, “Two…”

And we both say, “Three…”

I look at the stick, and then I look at Leah, who still has her eyes pinched shut. “I thought we were looking at it together?”

“Robert, I can’t look. What is it? Is it two blue lines or do I need to pee on another one of these things?”

“You better drink some more water,” I say as I kneel down beside her and wait for her to open her eyes.

“I was hoping we were pregnant.” She looks sad as she looks at the pregnancy stick. “Robert?”

“Yes, Leah?”

“Is that two blue lines on that stick?”

“It is.” I smile, and I just want to pick up my wife and swing her around the room in excitement.

“We’re pregnant?”

“We are.”

“We’re really pregnant,” she says in disbelief.

“I know.” I lean over and kiss her. Her cheeks are wet from tears, and I can feel her shaking beneath my hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She picks up the used stick and holds it close to her heart. “We’re really pregnant.”

“We are, and I couldn’t be happier.”

After my return home, Leah and I decided that we wanted to try right away to have another baby. We aren’t attempting to replace Jamie, but we always wanted a big family. I think we gave up that idea, but we do want another child. We loved Jamie so much, and we miss her terribly. I know we both have unspoken fears that we’ll always carry with us, but we also have so much love to give a child, our child. Our home is quiet and lonely; I would love to fill the rooms with laughter and love again.

“Leave so I can get up. I want to see how far along we are,” Leah says, sternly.

I laugh at my wife's modesty. “Leah, we’re married and I have seen you naked.”

“I know, but I need to wipe so I can get up, so go — now.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.”

I wait for her in the bedroom where her laptop is. I am excited and scared at the same time. I loved being a father more than anything. My demons haunt me, but I don’t share them with Leah. She doesn’t need to know what they are. I still blame myself for Jamie’s death although it wasn’t my fault. I was her father, and I should have been able to protect her, to keep her safe. I didn’t, and I failed my daughter and I failed my wife. She stops at her dresser and pulls out her pocket planner, then sits beside me on the bed with her laptop in hand.

I watch her as she checks the date on the calendar with the date on the laptop. She checks it again and smiles. “If this is right, we are due on November 30
th
. That makes us about eight weeks pregnant.” I watch my beautiful wife smiles, and I can’t remember the last time she was smiling so big. She says, “It’s still too soon to announce it. I think it’s best we keep quiet for another month.”

My wife is the brilliant one in the family. If she thinks we should wait, there is a reason for this.

“May I take my beautiful
and
pregnant wife out for dinner to celebrate?” I ask as I kiss her sweetly.

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

During the dinner, we discuss the pregnancy and what a blessing this child will be. “What room should we use as the nursery?” she asks, and I know what she is asking. Is it wrong to use Jamie’s room? We still haven’t been in Jamie’s room since her death. It is just as she left it that dreadful morning. I think about this, and I have to make sure I word it perfectly.

I smile because I don’t want to sadden the mood. “We could use the room across the hall from Jamie’s for the nursery.” I don’t say anything else; I give her time to think about what I said.

“You don’t want to use Jamie’s room?” She looks saddened.

I take her hand from across the table and stroke my thumb across her knuckles.

“I was thinking and remember, it’s only a thought,” I say. “What if we had another daughter? Wouldn’t it be nice to leave Jamie’s room as it is, and maybe our next child would be able to play with Jamie’s things? A son could also play there.” Now that I think about this maybe it’s not such a good idea. “We don’t have to decide anything today; we have plenty of time to figure it out later,”
I say.
I look at Leah, and I can’t tell what she is thinking.

She asks, “Do you mean have Jamie’s room as a playroom?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Jamie loved her room.”

“Yes, Leah, Jamie loved it very much.”
I don’t have the heart to pack away Jamie’s things. I can’t put her things in storage. Not yet.

“Robert, I like that idea.” She doesn’t smile, but she isn’t crying either. “I like the idea of Jamie’s sibling using her things. Jamie is gone, but she is still alive in our hearts.”

“Yes, Leah, she is.”

The next morning, I drive Leah to work and help her open up the shop. Before we found out she was pregnant, she would drive by herself and set out the bistro tables and get everything ready herself. Now, I don’t want her moving the tables and chairs by herself. Jo is already here and the shop smells like a bakery. I inhale and smile when I see Jo. She walks out of the back room wearing a floral dress and a white apron that says, “Never trust a skinny chef.” I smile to try to hide my laugh. “Good morning, Sunshine,” I say as I walk over to help her with the tray of cinnamon buns.

“Good morning, Bobby and Leah. How lovely to see you here this morning.”

I bend over to kiss Jo and say, “Let me help you with those.”

“Good morning, Jo. While you do that, I’m going to get the cash drawer ready,” Leah says.

“All right, Sweets.”

I put the cinnamon buns in the glass display case and follow Jo into the back room to get more. Once the glass display case is filled with Jo’s delicious sweets, I start to put the bistro tables and chairs out on the sidewalk. Jo and I make the coffee and get the decanters filled with different varieties of coffee that Leah offers her patrons. As soon as everything is done, Jo and I sit down and have coffee. Jo has a cinnamon bun, but not me — I am on the wagon.

Leah exits her office, carrying the cash drawer, and pretends like she is looking at a nonexistent watch on her wrist, and asks, “Break time already, Ace?”