Cut to the beat

Birthdays

Ellen rolled over in her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a Friday night and she could not sleep for the life of her. Her green eyes flickered to the sleeping man beside her, content. Patrick lay against his palm, his other hand sprawled loosely against her hips. Tenderly Ellen pushed back a strand of his raven curls, and smiled. She was glad one of them was finding peace.

Ellen was far from finding it. Her mind was spinning as she looked at the calendar open on her night stand. It was Everett and Stella's birthday tomorrow, and her heart ached. So many things raced in and out of Ellen's brain as she shifted again in the bed. She first had to have planned this party for both of them, split a cake, invite some friends, and make the theme perfect. Beyond that, Ellen was in shock to be quite honest. Everett was turning four. Four years old. It had been four years since she lay in this bed, worrying about her future- their future. She shivered, crossing her arms around herself. He had made it to four, which was promising with his disease.

His disease.

It made Ellen choke up, it had started to take a toll on her and she was unsure if anyone knew. Everett was complicated, and his development was regressing. He's turning four but his behavior is almost close to two. It wasn't fair for him to see Stella succeeding everywhere he wasn't as well. The two were so different but they cared about each other no matter what. Stella would try to help speak for Everett while his social skills started to fail. He didn't talk much now, he agreed with things. Yes and no were his favorite words, along with dino and mine. Ellen didn't know what to do with that exactly. She tried to talk to Everett her hardest but sometimes he just didn't get it. There were options but just how much do you spend on teaching your child sign language when he's terminal?

"You're shaking the bed Els," Patrick grumbled as Ellen turned around again. She let out a sigh, curling up to his warm body.

"I can't sleep." Ellen replied as Patrick propped himself up on his arm. His lazy blue eyes opened with a squint, making her out in the dark.

"El, come on. If you don't sleep you won't be able to handle the party. Come on, worry later," He said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Ellen licked her lips, furrowing her brow at him. She wasn't sure she could tell herself to worry later.

"Everett made it to four and I don't know what to do Paddy. I can't get him ready for kindergarten. And I don't want to waste his life..." she whispered, closing her eyes as she tiptoed the threshold between tears. Patrick sat up, flipping on the table lamp beside their bed. He looked over at Ellen, afraid to see the broken woman beside him. His eyes scanned down her body, watching her as she tried to sit up. She began to shake ever so slightly with the weight of her emotions unfurling. Patrick thought about Everett making it to four of course and how his heart swelled with pride but this sadness Ellen had...it had not occurred to him.

"Ellen. You need to sleep." Patrick immediately pulled her into his arms, rocking her body gently back and forth to calm her. He stroked her arms, kissing her cheek again. Ellen bit her lip as it quivered while it dawned on her about what was honestly upsetting her. She was four when her mother died, and that was the last birthday she had with her. Thing was Ellen could hardly recall it. Turning from 3 to 4 was standard, everyone did it. But Everett was not everyone. Patrick's thumb slid across her cheeks while the tears began flowing down. He shifted, scooping his arm around Ellen so that he could hold her to his chest.

"Take a deep breath, I want you to listen," Patrick said softly, stroking her hair. Ellen took a very deep and shaky breath, listening to the stillness of the room around them. In a few moments she heard Patrick's heartbeat, and she exhaled. It was a soothing moment. Patrick could feel Ellen cracking as the days and nights went longer. And it hurt him. She always believed he couldn't see the bags under her eyes growing, the constant messy buns, her lack of want or will...but it was the farthest thing from reality. Patrick knew she was falling apart. And that's okay, their son is terminal... It was okay to break but what she needed was somebody to piece her back together again.