Reclaiming the Sand(92)

I didn’t acknowledge him.

I walked into my apartment feeling years older. I jumped into the shower, hoping it would wake me up. I needed to be alert in order to deal with what was waiting for me at the hospital.

I got changed and grabbed my car keys.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t see Flynn’s car still sitting outside my apartment. And I didn’t notice his eyes following me, watching me leave.



“I’m looking for Dania Blevins. She just gave birth,” I said to the cranky receptionist at the hospital. She barely looked at me. She pointed down the hallway.

“Labor and delivery is down there. Just read the signs. That’s usually a good place to start,” she sneered. Someone clearly loved their job.

“Wow, thanks. And I’ll make sure to let your boss know how helpful you are,” I said, giving her my sweetest smile. Her mouth twisted and her eyes bulged. I wiggled my fingers in a wave as I headed down the hallway.

I found my way to labor and delivery with little trouble, no thanks to the bitchy receptionist. The birthing unit at Wellsburg General wasn’t very big. The nursery was just as you came in and the four post delivery rooms lined the walls to the right.

I stopped at the glass looking into the room where the babies slept in their tiny incubators. I wondered which one was Dania’s. But then I remembered Reggie saying he wasn’t breathing on his own. That meant he wouldn’t be with the rest of the babies. I wondered where he was.

I found Dania’s room and looked inside. She was awake. Her long hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head. She wore a non-descript hospital gown. She laid in her bed, her face turned to look out the window. She looked so small and terrified. It broke my heart.

I lightly knocked on the door. “Dania?”

She looked in my direction and while there was recognition there wasn’t any response. Reggie had said Dania was insistent that I come. But she didn’t seem very happy to find me there.

“Ellie,” she said, her voice dead.

I walked into her room and approached the bed. She had an IV in her arm but otherwise she seemed to be physically okay. Her big belly that I had become so used to seeing was noticeably gone.

I thought about asking how she was, but that seemed like such a stupid question. I wanted to know where her baby was. What had happened to him. But I didn’t dare bring it up before she was ready to tell me.

I sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hand in mine.

“I’m here now,” I said softly. Her fingers curled limply between my palms. Her face was eerily blank. She looked pale and listless. We sat, not saying a word, the flickering of the television flashing against the wall.

“He’s gone, Ellie,” Dania muttered. I looked down at her, not sure that I heard correctly.

Big fat tears started to streak down her face, her chest heaving. “I lost him. They took him away,” she shuddered on a sob.

I gripped her hand tightly. “We’ll figure it out, Dania. We’ll do it together,” I promised.

And then she let go and started crying in earnest. She closed her eyes, her body immobile except for her shaking shoulders. I moved closer and carefully wrapped my arms around her. She held herself rigid and away from me. She didn’t allow herself to take comfort. But I held her anyway, saying nothing as she wailed. I rubbed her back and ran my hand down her hair as I tried to soothe her. But nothing helped.

Dania was broken.

When she was finally able to stop crying, furiously wiped away her tears. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy and her nose was red.

“What happened, Dania?” I asked her.

She chewed on her thumbnail and looked like she was trying not to cry again.

“I didn’t know anything was wrong. I didn’t know he had a heart defect! How was I supposed to know that?” she asked, sounding dangerously close to hysterical.

“Your doctor never said there was anything wrong?” I asked incredulously, not sure I believed her. I had seen been with Dania to several of her prenatal appointments. And I knew that she tended to disregard and dismiss anything she didn’t want to hear.

“I don’t know…maybe he did. I can’t remember,” she admitted. She lifted her tear stained face, her eyes pleading with me for something I couldn’t give her.

“I just want to see him. I need to know he’s okay. I know I f*cked up! But I need my little boy.” Dania’s words ended on a strangled whisper. I gripped her hand, letting her squeeze as tightly as she needed to.

I didn’t say anything…pretty sure nothing could be said to make this better for her.



I was sitting with Dania later in the afternoon. I hadn’t left her side except to go get her some lunch from Ma’s Diner. I picked up her favorite cheese covered French fries, hoping she would eat something. She had given me a tired smile and thanked me but had pushed the box away.

Her numbness scared me. Even in high school when our foster mom had knocked her around, or after Stu had dumped her, she had never lost herself. She had retained that spark that was undeniably Dania.

But that had all changed. Her fire had gone out.

Dania had given up.

Her obstetrician, Dr. Ball, came in several times to check on her. Dr. Ball had asked me to step out of the room so he could have a look at the incision site from her C-section.