“You’re never here.”
“You don’t help me.”
“She’s never going to know you.”
“What kind of father are you? You aren’t even here.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I’d like to get out of the house too?”
It’s not like I leave to go get a beer. I go to work and come home. I’m not like most guys my age. I don’t fuck around like that when I know I have a family waiting for me. I know what I have inside, and I know it’s worth it.
I just don’t know if Haley feels the same.
Knowing the argument isn’t going to have itself, I step out of the car and carefully shut the door, so it doesn’t make a loud noise. Rubbing my eyes to wake up a bit, I walk through the humid night—and nearly trip over the garden gnome.
“Goddamn it,” I curse, kicking the thing across the lawn. I hate it. I trip over it every damn morning.
Haley always says, “Well, if you used the walkway, you wouldn’t trip over it.”
Whatever.
Logic.
The keys jingle when I pluck them out of my pocket. I unlock the door, sighing in relief from the cool air. I tiptoe as quietly as I can so I don’t wake anyone and timidly place the keys on the hook.
I roll my neck and crack it, then see Haley on the couch passed out, sound asleep. Her arm is hanging off and her mouth is open. I chuckle and then head into Amber’s room to check on my favorite girl.
The hallway is long, lined with photos of us to make it feel like home, but the only thing I can’t stand is the floors.
They fucking creak with every step I take.
I come to her door, which is decorated with a pink A hanging in the middle surrounded by glow-in-the-dark stars. I turn the handle and the first thing that hits my nose is the smell of baby wipes and baby powder. If someone had told me how many diapers and wipes we would use just in the first week alone, I would have laughed at them.
But holy hell. So… much… shit.
Everywhere. All the fucking time.
The floors stop creaking when they switch over from hardwood to carpet. In the corner is a rocking chair, and to the left of that is the changing table. Against the other wall rests the crib my dad made. Her name is carved in the middle.
I might not be able to give her much now, but one day I will. I’ll be able to give her everything. That’s my goal.
I flip on a lamp that’s in the shape of the moon. It gives off the perfect glow. It isn’t bright enough to wake her up, but bright enough that I can see her.
I bend over the crib and stroke my hand down her back. “Hey, sweet Amber. How is my favorite little girl?” I whisper, noticing she’s a bit cold.
It’s not that cold in here.
“I can fix that, angel. Come here.” Even in my work clothes and all, I slide my hands around her body, smaller than my damn hands, and hold her like a football. My smile fades slowly when I notice some things about her that don’t seem right.
She’s really cold.
Blue lips.
And she isn’t waking up.
She always rouses when I pick her up.
“Amber?” I shake her a little bit, hoping this is all in my head. “Baby?” I drop to my knees and bring my ear to her chest. I press my fingers against her neck.
I don’t feel anything. Why don’t I feel anything?
“No, no, no.” Tears begin to cloud my eyes as I begin to try CPR on her. “Two fingers. Just two fingers,” I tell myself as I press them against her small chest. “Come on, baby. Don’t do this to me.” While I’m working, I turn on my radio and call for an ambulance. “Dispatch. This is Officer Walker. I need an ambulance at my residence. 578 Sun—”
“This is dispatch. I have your address pulled up, Officer Walker. Help is on the way. Can you describe what’s happening?”
“My daughter,” I choke, continuing CPR through the tears that fall from me onto her sweet, chubby face. “She isn’t breathing. I don’t know for how long. I… I… she has blue lips and she’s cold. Please, I can’t lose her. I can’t.” I take a deep breath in, bend down and blow easily into her mouth, then start compressions again. “I’m doing CPR.”
“Don’t stop, okay? Help is two minutes out, Officer Walker.” The radio statics off and I sob. I hold Amber against my chest and run into the living room with her limp body. “Haley! Haley! Wake up! Damn it, wake up!” I scream, but Haley doesn’t move. I sit on the floor next to the couch and place my daughter in my lap. “Fucking don’t do this me!” I shout at her as if it’s her fault for not breathing. “God,” I groan, sweat beading along my brow.
I shake Haley violently and try to wake her up while keeping the easy beat to Amber’s chest.
“What?” Haley grumbles and flips over.
“No! Wake up and tell me why our daughter isn’t breathing. Why isn’t she breathing? I swear to fucking god if you did something to her—”
Haley finally wakes up, her eyes wide and hair a mess as she stares down at the beautiful life we created together. She sees her blue face and gags, throwing up all over the couch. And that’s when I see them.
Pills.
Small white ones in her vomit.
Her pupils are dilated.
“You’re fucking high? You’re high! You needed to be watching Amber and now look? Look at her! Did you drug her?”
“No, Forrest, no. I swear I didn’t. I just… I needed to sleep. I swear to you, I would never. I love Amber so much. Oh, God. Why isn’t she breathing?” she cries, sliding onto the floor with me.
“I don’t know,” I choke, her small, fragile body jerking every time I pump her chest. “My angel. Come on, baby. Come on.”
Haley’s hands touch my shoulder, and I jerk away from her. I can’t look at her right now. She didn’t take a pill to sleep. She took at least four, from what I can see on the couch.
With our baby home.
Our child.
I can never trust her again. I can’t.
“Don’t.”
“Forrest—”
“Don’t!” I shout so loud my own ears tremble. “Don’t,” I whisper, my cheeks wet as I try to revive Amber.
The sirens get closer, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the lights reflecting off the windows.
“I love you. I’m sorry,” Haley tells me. “I didn’t know. I didn’t… I needed to escape awhile.”
“Escape? Escape! What the fuck from? She’s perfect.” I stare down at my girl, admiring her. Blonde fuzz coats the top of her head. Her button nose I always love to boop every time I see her. She grins every time. She has a tiny dent in her chin, something she got from me, and her lips… well, she has her mother’s lips.
The paramedics come in and I know them. It’s Ashe and Keagan.
“Walker. What happened?” Ashe drops to his knees and takes Amber from me, immediately starting compressions while Keagan drapes the oxygen mask over her face.
“I don’t know. I don’t know, I just… I checked on her and she was blue, man. She was cold. Is she okay? She’s going to be okay, right? She’s so little. She has to be.”
Keagan and Ashe share a look.