Too Much For One Heart

5

Lindsey woke to the sound of muffled singing. A woman's voice. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments, a smile on his face as he recognized the words - Nightbird. She sounded so beautiful.

Still in a daze he dragged himself out of bed, eyes half closed, to the nursery. He opened the door and looked at the figure in the rocking chair, singing softly to his daughter. With a sudden lurch it hit him that he was looking at red hair, not blonde, green eyes, not brown.

"Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry, Lindsey." Lori's Texan drawl was soft and concerned.

"No it's...it's fine." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to push back the tears that were forming. "You sounded so much like her, I dunno, I guess I forgot..."

Lori chewed her lip, unsure of what to say; no one knew what to say to him right now.

"Do you want to hold her?" She smiled hopefully. He shook his head.

It had been 3 weeks. People had tried to help out, both his mother and Stevie's had bustled around the house, sharing the load of supporting him between them as much as they could, trying to help him bond with his daughter. He hadn't even named her yet. He couldn't hold her.

His mother had finally lost her cool when she went out grocery shopping and came back to find her granddaughter screaming whilst he wrote endless songs, locked away in his studio.

"Is this what she would want, Lindsey?! Is this how she would want you to behave?! You should be ashamed. None of this is that poor defenceless child's fault."

He couldn't help resenting her though, this tiny person. Stevie wasn't here because of her birth. She should be here with him. He had waited so long for her to come back to him, and all he'd had was a few short months. He had to blame someone for it. His anger scared him.

Lori and Christopher had stepped in to help out too, taking the weight off of the mothers. Stevie's brother was having a real time of it but he wanted to feel useful, so they left their daughter Jessica with Lori's family and moved into a guest room.

"What time are you going to the hospital today?"

"Now, I guess. I'm up. What else is there to do?"

"Do you want breakfast before you go?"

"No. I'll grab a coffee when I get there."

"That's not - ok." It wasn't worth trying to talk him into taking care of himself. He barely showered and changed his clothes, he hadn't shaved at all and seemed to be living on coffee and sleeping pills. Lori was worried but that could wait. Too much still hung in the balance to try and get through to him yet.

He drove to the hospital in autopilot, hating every second of the journey. Each turn of the road reminded him of that night. He could almost feel her grip on his arms. He even hated that the light bruises from her fingerprints were fading.

His feet automatically led him to the neonatal intensive care unit. He nodded a greeting to the nurses and walked to the far end of the room where a handwritten sign reading "baby Buckingham-Nicks" was pinned to the wall above an incubator.

Gazing through the glass, he watched the gentle rise and fall of his sleeping son's chest. His tiny face was covered in wires, and on his head was a ludicrously oversized hat. He had been just 2lb at birth and measured the size of a baby born at 29 weeks, in stark comparison to his sister who weighed over 6lb - bigger than average for a twin born at 35 weeks. Thanks to his feeding tube he was steadily gaining weight, and the doctors were optimistic. His heart was growing stronger too, as were his lungs; he was medicated and ventilated for both and was responding well. There was still a high likelihood of him having developmental disorders, but that would be diagnosed as he grew older. Despite his traumatic entry into the world, he seemed to be taking it in his stride.

Lindsey put his hand into the incubator and the tiny fingers clasped his. He didn't know why he felt so much more bonded to his son than his daughter. On some utterly irrational, unfair level it felt as though his struggle justified him being here. He didn't know. It didn't make sense, nothing did.

"Hey, buddy. Keep fighting. You've got to do it for mama."

A nurse approached him and gave him an update on progress. As usual he sat with the baby for a long time - he never knew how long, always putting off the inevitable next stop on his trip.

He took the elevator to the top floor. The smell hit him as the doors opened. The smell of death and decay. He hated it on this floor. Walking along the hushed hallway, all he could hear were his footsteps and the beeping of machines. Up here was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the wards below, and the peaceful calm of the NICU. Up here, something felt ominous. The nurses didn't acknowledge him here, just watched as he reached the room he was heading to and entered.

The shock never got easier. A shuddering sob escaped him as he hugged the door, steeling himself for what waited behind the curtain.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled it back, and the emotions flooded out of him.

"I've never known it." Dr Fairbanks had told him. "She died - we lost her. Her heart stopped. And then she came back. So weak, but the heartbeat was there."

She looked like a child, so small in the bed. Her blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, eyes closed above the mask covering most of her face. She had as many, if not more, tubes connected to her than their baby, all wired up to various machines, keeping her alive. They didn't know if she would ever wake up, or the extent of the damage the blood loss had caused. Her eyes and fingers had twitched which, he was told, was a good sign. Not good enough for him. He needed her back. Not like this. This purgatory was soul destroying. For the first few days he had convinced himself it would be over soon, but as time moved further and further on and here she remained, silent and unmoving, he had begun to lose hope.

"I'm sorry, Steph. I'm so sorry. Come home. Come back to me. I'm so sorry." It was dark when he left, having sat and held her hand in silence for hours.

~

"I'll get it, it's probably Lindsey."

"No, he left his phone this mor -" Chris waved his hand to shut her up as he reached the phone.

"Hello? No, he's not back yet - did he just leave? Oh he should be here any moment then, can I take a message? Is everything -" he turned as Lindsey walked through the door and was about to speak but the person on the other end of the line was saying something. He looked at Lindsey in total shock and grabbed his arm as he reached him.

This was it. She was gone. Just as he'd left her alone. He sank to his knees as Lori moved to comfort him.

"- thank you, yes, I'll tell him. Thanks again. Bye."

Chris crouched in front of him, tilting his head up to look into those same brown eyes as his older sister.

"Lindsey - she woke up."