So Much More(86)

When we return to the waiting room, it’s empty. The nurse tells us Kai has been moved to a room on the telemetry floor.

I peer in from the hall, with Hope by my side, and see everyone clustered around Kai’s bed. Seamus sees me and waves both of us in.

I apologize quietly for disturbing their family time. Kai is sleeping. He’s hooked up to various machines and monitors, and an IV drip is administering painkillers. My entire being aches for this little boy.

Seamus is rubbing my back as he takes in my expression. “He’ll make a full recovery. He just needs some time,” he whispers in my ear. I hear the lack of worry in his voice, and I know it’s true.

Still, I can’t take my eyes off him lying in the bed, so helpless. “Thank God,” I whisper back.

“Everything okay with Hope? You were gone a long time.” It’s still his soothing whisper in my ear.

I turn my head, look him in the eye, and the overwhelming realization that I just got my miracle hits me. It hits me so hard it fills my eyes and takes away my words. I nod instead.

He puts his arm around me and kisses the side of my head. “Good.”

I look back at Kai. “We’d better get going, Seamus, so you can take care of Kai.” And then back to Seamus. “I’m glad they moved him to this room, that’s a good sign.”

Seamus walks out of the room with Hope and me. Hope keeps walking toward the elevator where she stops and waits for me.

When I look up at Seamus, his eyes are fixed on mine. He’s looking at me like there are a thousand and one things he wants to say. He starts with, “Can I hug you?”

I wrap my arms around him and for a solid minute, our bodies talk. There are apologies. And questions. And answers. And promises.

When we release each other, he smiles. It’s tired, but it’s mine. “Please tell me you felt that?”

I nod. I did.

He inhales deeply and lets it all out, smile still in place. “Good. Because, holy shit, I’ve missed you.”

I want to kiss him so badly, but it’s so inappropriate given the time and place.

“Would you want to…I don’t know…maybe after Kai is released and things get back to normal, we could…” He stops talking, covers his eyes with his hand, and laughs. “Jesus Christ, I suck at this. It’s been a long time since I tried to ask someone out.”

That giddy feeling rises in me, the one I’ve only ever felt when I’m around Seamus, and it makes my smile impossible to hide. “Yes. Please.”

He bookends my cheeks with his hands and kisses me softly, just a peck, but I feel it all the way down to my toes. And then he rests his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have to give you my home phone number, I don’t have a cell.”

“Good idea.”

We walk to the information desk and trade phone numbers. “Just leave a message on the answering machine. It’s kind of a community phone set up where I live, but it works. I’ll get the message.”

He nods. “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks for coming to check on Kai. And me.”

I nod.

And I leave the hospital with my mom.

And a grateful heart that’s bursting with love.





Sometimes, it isn’t that hard





present





There’s a knock on my bedroom door. It’s Benito with a cup of coffee.

“Hi.” He hands it over with a smile. His other hand that usually holds his cup is empty. “I’m headed to work, but I thought you could use this.”

“Headed to work? It’s late.” He never works on Sunday nights, he usually goes to mass at the Catholic Church down the street.

He shrugs. “Miranda will be out for a while with Kai, there are things that need to be tended to in her absence. We’re all a team and family always comes first. It’s no trouble at all.”

Of course it’s not. It’s Benito. He helps everyone. I nod to the coffee in my hand. “Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome, my dear. Well, I just wanted to say hello and make sure you’re doing well.”

I smile. “I’m good. Really good. Thanks.”

He nods his fatherly nod. “Excellent. I’d better get going.” He walks to the stairs and stops like he so often does. “Faith?”

I take a sip of my coffee. “Yeah?”

“He knows,” he says wisely.

I tilt my head and wait for him to continue.

“He knows what an unbelievably beautiful circumstance he could be in with you,” he adds with a smile.

I smile remembering our discussion from weeks ago and quote him in return, “Sometimes, it isn’t that hard.”

He winks and disappears up the stairs.





Life blooms in second chances





present





Kai was released from the hospital last week. He’s confined to a wheelchair for the next two weeks due to the cast on his leg, after which he can use crutches. He’s not happy about that, but it doesn’t stop him from getting outside with his basketball and shooting some hoops every afternoon. I thought the stairs at the apartment would be an obstacle, since I can’t carry him, but he navigates up and down them from a sitting position on his butt faster than I can on my feet. The kid is unstoppable. And other than some wicked scarring on his abdomen and legs, and special dietary concerns, he’s back to normal. It’s amazing how resilient kids are.