A Book of Dust and Breath

Chapter 36.1

Max sat in the ugly green vinyl chair next to his wife's bed staring at the bag of blood hanging from the IV pole on the other side of her. Soft, rhythmic beeping kept time with her heart. Her dark hair stood out, a violent splash of color against all the white: white sheets, white walls, white skin, so very very pale.

The baby in his arms stirred and made a tiny noise, like a hungry kitten. His newborn son had a shock of dark hair, just like his mother's, sticking out from under the stretchy blue cap they'd put over his head. His wrinkled red face scrunched up like an old man's before he burst into a sneeze that shook his entire tiny body.

He was a perfect child. The most beautiful child Max had ever seen in his life. Twice, the nurses had tried to take him from his father's arms and twice Max had insisted that whatever tests they needed to do they could do in his presence. He'd put him down only long enough to weigh him and dress him. Not once had he been further than an arm's distance away. One old woman with steel-grey hair tied up in a tight bun behind a cap that appeared to be borrowed from a previous generation scolded him.

"You'll spoil that child," she said.

He'd glared at her until she turned and left him with a cluck of her tongue.

Daniel appeared in the doorway, arm in a sling.

Max motioned for him to come in.

"How is she?"

Max shrugged. "The thing keeps beeping and I haven't seen a pink slip."

"This is your baby?"

"No. I borrowed this one from the nursery," Max said.

"Have I not been a supportive friend? Do I deserve this sarcasm?"

Max rolled his eyes, but a smile touched one side of his mouth. It felt good to feel something beyond exhaustion and terror.

"You look like death," Daniel said.

"That makes sense," Max replied.

"You took quite a beating."

"If she can hang on, so can I."

Daniel knew enough not to push too hard. He leaned over and tugged the blue and white striped blanket down from the baby's chin. "A boy?"

"My son," Max said, testing the words.

"He's very wrinkly."

"You'd be wrinkly, too, if you spent thirty-six weeks in salt water."

The watcher conceded with a tip of his head. "Fair enough. Have you named him?"

"I'll wait for Lily."

As if at the sound of her name, she murmured softly and her eyelids fluttered.

Max leaned forward and reached for her hand. "Lily? Are you awake?"

She opened her eyes and focused on his face, glanced around the room, looked at him again and began shaking. The beeping on the machine doubled in speed. "Monsters!" She rasped out through parched lips.

"No, baby. No. It's just us. You're safe now."

Her eyes darted between the two men. Her chest rose and fell in short, quick bursts under the crisp sheet.

"I'm gonna go wait outside." Daniel laid a hand on Max's shoulder. "I'll stay close."

Max nodded his thanks and stood to move closer to the bed.

Lily recoiled from him.

A nurse, thankfully not the old woman who had been sharp with him earlier, passed Daniel on his way out.

"Welcome back to the world, sleepyhead," she said to Lily in impossibly perky tones. "Let's just take some deep breaths and see if we can calm that heart rate down, shall we?"

She wheeled a small digital box toward the bed, removed a probe from the side of it, and slipped it into Lily's mouth.

Lily accepted her ministrations, but her wide, wild eyes never left Max.

"Your son is just as handsome and healthy as any little boy I've ever seen," the nurse chattered. "I don't think I've heard him cry even once. Of course, dad has been soaking up the snuggles over there. This boy is going to be well-loved, that's clear to see."

At the mention of the baby, Lily's eyes moved to the tiny bundle in Max's arms. The beeps stretched a little further apart.

"Good girl. Must have woken up from a bad dream, right?" She pulled the probe out and stuck it back into the machine. "Ninety-eight point eight. Right as rain. How do you feel?"

"My stomach hurts," Lily whispered. She frowned. "And my throat. My ribs."

"That's no surprise." She pulled the sheet back and peeked at the bandages under the thin hospital gown. Seemingly satisfied with whatever she saw she moved around to the monitor and poked at it, silencing the relentless noise. "You're one lucky lady. You had a placental abruption, lost more blood than anyone ever should. The EMTs got you here lickety-split, but you coded on the way and they had to do chest compressions. So far as we can tell, you don't have any broken ribs, but you certainly took a beating. They intubated you in the ER. You're one strong girl, Mrs. Metit. After we got this little fighter out of your belly you started holding your own and you're doing just fine now. Nothing a whole lot of rest and TLC won't fix from here on out."

She checked the bag of blood, almost empty now. "Doc will probably give you one more bag of O neg. You're still a bit peaked."

She made a note on the clipboard at the end of the bed and dropped it back in place. "Anything you need right now?"

Lily's eyes stayed on Max's. She shook her head.

The nurse pumped some of the hand sanitizer from the dispenser on the wall into her palms. "Be back to check on you in a bit. Press the red button if you need anything."

The door swung shut behind her, leaving Max alone with his wife and son once more.

"I want to hold him," she whispered, reaching for the baby. She winced at the motion and Max leaned forward to nestle the baby against her chest. Silent tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

"Do you want me to sit the bed up?"

She nodded.

As carefully as possible he maneuvered the bed and situated the pillows behind her so she was as upright as she could stand to be.

"He's beautiful," he said. "So strong, just like his mom."

She sniffed and wiped at her nose with the back of one hand. "I'd like to call him Liam."

He sat and scooted the chair as close to the bed as he could get. One hand rested on her leg and she didn't pull away. "Liam is a perfect name."

She swallowed hard. "You told me once you wouldn't lie to me."

"I never have," he said.

"Tell me what happened."

It wasn't as though he hadn't dreaded this moment for the past two days. Obviously, it had been coming all along. He had decided at first to lie, but immediately known he would never be able to go through with it. It wouldn't be so hard to tell her a half-truth: he'd found her bleeding at the bottom of the stairs. Nine one one had been called. He'd even actually considered telling her the whole truth. Now that the time had come to answer her question he found himself tongue-tied.

"Was it real?" she asked.

If the monitor had been hooked to his heart the nurse would be back for sure. The traitorous organ pounded like it was trying to burst out of his chest.

"What are you?" she whispered.