Loud. Blaring.
Jaynie awoke to the dreadful apnea monitor alarm. Half asleep, she wondered which lead had come undone this time. She stared at her daughter, completely still, who’d somehow managed to squirm into the corner of her bed. She switched on the bedside light and saw that all three leads were in place.
“Tara?” She gently massaged the baby to stimulate her breathing, but there was no response. “Tara!” she called again, gently tapping and shaking the sole of her foot, but still no response.
She’d stopped breathing.
Jaynie’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, my God! Tara!”
As she lifted the infant from the crib and laid her across the bed, she screamed for Terrance. He was at her side in an instant, dressed in his underwear.
“Tara’s not breathing,” she said. “Call 911!”
Looking wild-eyed, he dashed for the phone.
Jaynie gently tilted back Tara’s head. “Breathe, Tara, breathe!” She checked the baby’s airway, lifted her chin with one fingertip and looked, listened and felt for breath.
How could this be happening? Her baby had been thriving more each day, gaining weight, blossoming. Jaynie had to fight off the panicking mother to reach the seasoned nurse within.
Do infant rescue breathing. Quick!
Keeping Tara’s head back and chin lifted, Jaynie placed her mouth over the baby’s nose and mouth, then carefully gave two puffs. Her little chest lifted and fell; nothing blocked her airway. Yet the infant didn’t breathe on her own. She checked her brachial pulse. Thank God, her heart was still beating.
“Yes, I have an emergency,” she heard Terrance say. “Our baby has stopped breathing.”
Fear surged through every fiber of her body, but Jaynie fought it. She breathed for her baby every three seconds. “Come on, Tara, breathe.”
The area around the baby’s face was starting to turn faintly blue. So were her fingertips. Jaynie breathed for her again. And again.
Oh, my God!
In a trance, she felt her heart palpitating as she felt for her baby’s brachial pulse. Nothing. Horror filled her mind.
And from the corner of her eye Jaynie saw Terrance drop the phone as she started cardiopulmonary resuscitation.
Tara’s heart had stopped.
T
WO
emergency medical technicians barreled into the house with the finesse of a herd of elephants. And, with them, the world as Jaynie knew it came crashing down at her feet. They stormed the kitchen, carrying armloads of equipment, adding to the chaos in her mind.
Shouting back and forth between Terrance, Jaynie and themselves, they said, “SIDS. Rebreathing asphyxia. Blunted response. Hypoxemia. Hypercarbia.”
Jaynie moved out of their way. She stood on her toes and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, determined to keep her daughter in sight while they worked.
Terrance identified himself as a respiratory therapist and asked for an airway. His voice sounded distant.
“What’s the smallest you’ve got in your kit?” His eyes never wavered from Tara’s still form.
“2.5 millimeter,” the larger man dressed in navy blue said, while rifling through a red three-tiered box. He handed a tiny white plastic question-mark-shaped item to Terrance.
The other man held a penlight above Tara’s mouth, shining it toward the back of her throat.
With the skill of an expert, Terrance slipped the airway device inside Tara’s mouth and carefully down her throat. Jaynie knew this was insurance against an obstructed respiratory passage. In mere seconds his mission was accomplished, and the other rescue worker had connected oxygen and an infant Ambu-Bag to act like a bellows for her lungs.
Until she could breathe for herself, they’d breathe for her. Jaynie shuddered. She wouldn’t allow herself to think anything negative. Things would be okay. She paced and prayed.
“All clear?” one man said, holding little paddles against Tara’s chest.
They gave a quick electrical shock, waited and watched for a spontaneous rhythm on the monitor. When nothing happened they continued with external compressions, and a few seconds later shocked her again.
Minutes that seemed like hours later, one of the emergency techs made an announcement.
“Sinus rhythm.” He’d discovered a faint heartbeat, and indicated the blip on the defibrillation machine.
Thinking the rhythmical beep of the machine was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard, Jaynie exchanged a relieved look with Terrance, and finally took a breath.
Tara would live.
* * *
Hours later at the hospital, when Jaynie’s trembling hands had steadied, and Dr. Shrinivasan had reassured her for the third time that all would be well, she relaxed the tiniest bit.
“It appears that Tara has a respiratory virus that may have shut down her airways.”
A quick flash to Mrs. Bouchet with her sniffles and sneezes over the last week came to Jaynie’s mind. A virus had caused this? Guilt bit like a rabid dog.
Why didn’t I stay home with her?
“Due to the baby’s premature lungs, the lack of oxygen did not trigger the response that we would normally observe,” he said.
Dizzy with anxiety, she couldn’t stop thinking over what might have been if she hadn’t had the apnea monitor in place. Jaynie needed to sit down. She searched for a chair…anything.
She’d been aware of her constant companion over the last few hours, taken him for granted, even. But not until the moment she lost her balance and Terrance caught her in his arms did she quietly thank God he’d been there throughout the ordeal.
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning on him.
He held her steady and firm against his chest. She felt him take a breath of relief along with hers.
Feeling as if she owed everyone an explanation, she began to talk. “I had a little wedge under her back so she could sleep on her side. Somehow she’d rolled onto her stomach.” Jaynie bit back tears and overcame panic while she replayed the moment in her head. “I found her…in the corner of the bed.”
From behind, Terrance grasped her arms and gave a firm squeeze of support.
“Thank God for the apnea monitor,” she said.
“You did everything right,” Dr. Shrinivasan said with a mild nod and a reassuring smile. “These things happen. And thanks be to God for your neighbor, no?”
A smile broke across her lips. “Yes.”
My hero.
She turned to Terrance and hugged him. With the ease of lifetime friends, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the top of her head. His chest vibrated beneath her cheek.
A millisecond before she’d snuggled in close she’d glimpsed a troubled squint in his eyes, a tension that tightened his lips. For a man who preferred action to feelings, he seemed frazzled and worn out with emotion. She massaged the tense muscles in his back and refrained from saying a word. They stood and gently rocked back and forth in their comforting embrace for what seemed like eternity, until their breathing became synchronized.
With Tara safely resuscitated, and sleeping quietly under an oxy-hood for a night of hospital observation, Jaynie and Terrance made their way to the parents’ lounge to sit. They held hands, but didn’t say a word.
Somewhere along the way Terrance’s hand dropped free and his mood shifted. She felt his palm tremble as he guided her at the small of her back. She glanced at him. His skin had gone pale. A distant gaze had settled into his eyes, and he seemed to be grappling with the magnitude of what had happened.
She’d read studies about people who performed flawlessly under fire, but once everything was over they fell apart. Maybe he was one of those people. No. That didn’t seem like Terrance. At least, she hoped not.
After minutes of silence, while he stared intensely into nothingness, he scrubbed his face and shook his head. As though he’d come to some sort of conclusion, he turned and watched Jaynie with sad eyes, earnestly searching every inch of her face. For what? Understanding? Forgiveness? Her gut tightened with a bad premonition.
He stood. In anticipation, she did, too. Terrance backed away, held up his hands in surrender, pleading with his eyes until a bleak hazel glare of defeat overcame his expression. He shook his head again and said, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. It’s too much. I’m sorry.”
He walked off, leaving her, stunned and breathless, to collapse into the nearest chair. Alone.
* * *
Two days later Tara was back home and in perfect form, demanding all of her mother’s attention. Thankful for the distraction, Jaynie showered her with love.
Myriad questions circled in her head, but the same answer repeated itself. A sad realization crept up like a stealthy shadow in the night. Terrance couldn’t take the demands of fatherhood…so he’d bowed out of their lives.
Granted, she hadn’t made it easy for him—refusing to let him in, punishing him for being honest with her. But when it had come down to the line, when they’d almost lost Tara, he hadn’t been able to take it. He’d packed up his tent and left her yard…and their lives.
This was the way it was supposed to be from the beginning,
she kept reminding herself.
I wanted to be a single parent. I wanted Tara all to myself.
Another overused saying from her mother popped into her head. “Be careful what you wish for…it may come true.”
With Tara in the sling, Jaynie snuggled against her head and glanced at the pile of books on single parenting on the floor. She’d checked them out from the library. On top was the title
A Happy Mother Makes a Happy Baby
.
I’ll have to work on that.
Noticing Tara had drifted off to sleep in the sling, and since there was no time like the present, she walked across the perfect Feng Shui of her living room, picked up a book to read and sat in the infamous rocking chair. She planned to move on with her life, but today she needed a reminder that she hadn’t always been alone. She vowed to remember and savor her days and hours with Terrance. They hadn’t been nearly long enough, but if it was all she’d have, she’d make them stretch across her lifetime.
A quiet tapping on her front door drew her attention. She opened it to a glorious bright day and an angelic silhouette. Sun-glare danced off the most beautiful natural shade of red hair Jaynie had ever seen. Miles of it.
A warm breeze scented with apple blossom blew across her face, and a petite pregnant woman smiled at Jaynie.
“Hello. I’m Tara—Terrance’s sister. May I come in?”
Jaynie went loose in recognition. She swept the door wide and invited her in with a gesture, unable to find her voice.
“I’ve been told I have a niece.” Her eyes glanced to the sling and the child within. “I couldn’t stay away.”
So similar to Terrance in mannerisms, yet her facial features—beyond an identical smile—would never give their relationship away. Where he was robust, she was elf-like. He was broad and strong, she was delicate and narrow—except for where her pregnancy protruded. Yet Jaynie saw traces of the same little girl who had won her over in the childhood picture from the cryobank. A special spirit lived in her eyes, and the reason she named her daughter Tara couldn’t be denied. Immediately, Jaynie liked her.
They sat across from each other in silence, until Jaynie offered her most precious gift. “Would you like to hold her?” Removing the straps of the snuggling sling, Jaynie released her daughter and watched the older Tara’s eyes light up.
Oh, there it was again. The self-same smile. Terrance was indeed her twin brother.
Two cups of herbal tea later, and an abundance of superficial dialogue followed by a diaper change, Tara Jr. drifted off to sleep again. Jaynie felt as if she’d made a new friend over the last hour, and she sensed that the feeling was mutual.
Aunt Tara reached inside her purse and fished out an old and tattered picture. “I thought you’d like to have the original. Terry told me about how Peanut got her name.” Her hazel-green eyes and her smile brightened an already gleaming face. “I can’t tell you how honored I am.”
“I never intended to find out who the father was,” Jaynie said, and reached for the photo to study it. “I’m afraid I turned your brother’s life upside down. I never meant to.”
“The idiot needed it.” She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms with the spunk of a sister. “He wanted to be Peter Pan all his life. It was about time someone or something kicked his butt into growing up.”
“But I don’t want Tara to dash his dreams. It was all my doing.”
“He wanted to come here today, to invite you and Peanut for dinner at his house tonight. But I suggested I come instead. I thought maybe he’d been pushing you too hard, and you might need some space. And I wanted to give you the picture myself.” Tara rose and opened her arms for a hug. “I hope you’ll go. He needs you. You have no idea.”
Her words sounded heaven-sent.
He needs me.
Jaynie followed Tara’s lead and they embraced. Dainty, like a thin teenager, she smelled like plumeria bath gel. And Jaynie felt like she’d found a long-lost friend.
“Regardless of what happens,” Tara said, reaching for Jaynie’s hands, “I’d like to keep in touch.”
“I’d like that,” she said, squeezing back.
Hesitant to accept the invitation for dinner, but longing to see Terrance again, Jaynie considered the significance of the request. Maybe they needed an official goodbye.
“What time?”
* * *
Papa Gino looked bored where he sat on the porch of Terrance’s house, like a large gray furry pear. He suspiciously watched Jaynie approach, and when she’d reached the halfway point scurried off to the nearby bushes in a blur. Terrance busted out the door with a heartbreaking smile.
“Hey, let me get that,” he said, rushing to her side to fetch the diaper bag and baby seat. “Anything else you need?” He glanced toward the car.
He’d tied his hair back, and wore a pressed button-down mint-green shirt rolled up at the cuffs with dark pants. Jaynie felt somewhat underdressed in casual post-pregnancy elastic waistband pants and a plain pullover top.
Drawing close, his strong hand retrieved the bag. She caught a musky forest cologne scent and memorized it, wondering if after today she’d ever have the opportunity again. It was obvious that he’d gone all out for her, and it touched her heart.
He smiled again, a long, sexy, confident smile, as if she was the only woman he’d ever seen. Flutters started in her chest and fanned across her stomach. Her eyes widened, and she needed to adjust her glasses on her nose. Her lips pinched into a tense response, and she tightened her grasp around Tara for support. He wouldn’t stop looking at her, which made her feel uncomfortable, so she cleared her throat.
“Shall we go inside?” She pushed the point.
“Oh, sure.” After peeking at Tara in the baby sling, goo-gooing a syllable or two, and more grinning, he led the way to the house.
Compared to the rustic wood exterior, the interior of his home was uncluttered and inviting. A large dark leather armchair sat across from a soft brown couch and a heavy wood coffee table. A redbrick fireplace covered three-quarters of an entire wall. A sliding glass door overlooked a verdant backyard forest of overgrown bushes, trees and shrubs. The room hadn’t changed since she’d last been here. It smelled freshly aired out by the breeze, but a hint of last night’s fireplace smoke lingered.
Terrance hurried to put the bag and baby seat down, and then reached for Tara. “May I?”
Jaynie handed him the baby, and he received her as if she was the most precious gift on earth. He held her close to his chest, took a deep whiff of her baby smell and kissed the top of her head. A pained look of loss filled his eyes as he studied his daughter.
“She’s so beautiful.” A soft fatherly smile crossed his lips. He lifted thick brown lashes to look at Jaynie. “We did good, huh?”
“The best.”
“Astounding,” he said.
They stood in tortured silence for several seconds while Jaynie contemplated their circumstances. He’d obviously invited her over for a reason, and she thought she knew why she’d come, but neither was ready to get to the point. She really didn’t want to find out that, as she’d always imagined, she’d spend the rest of her life alone.
Seeming a tiny bit nervous, Terrance said, “Listen, I’ve got a few more things to do before dinner is ready. Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable? I’ll bring you some watered-down wine and put on some music.”