When James gets cranky, I gather up all our stuff and head to the hotel. It’s lunch time, and I need some food. I leave Jose and Fernando in the room, watching over Robert’s prone form.
Brock meets me in the hall. “I’m going to the hotel,” I tell him.
“Yes, I’ve arranged a room.”
“I got my own,” I say. Well, Mulberry got it for me, but that’s not really any of Brock’s business.
Brock nods. “I had Frank and Nila transported to your room. Let me know where you are now, and I can have them brought to you.”
“You…” My words falter. Brock’s eyes meet mine. “That was thoughtful,” I say, my voice unsure. “Thank you?” My voice goes up at the end like it’s a question.
“You’re welcome,” Brock says, giving nothing away. “And here.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a phone. “I got you this; my number and Jose’s are programmed into it.”
Another phone, just what I need. But I don’t mention it’s the third in my possession now, I just take it with a murmured thank you. He starts to walk past me, heading into the room. “Brock,” I say, pulling his attention back to me. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s not true.” His voice is sure. “A lot went wrong. This was entirely preventable.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
He smiles at me. “Mr. Maxim would be.”
“Yeah, but he’s a jerk. You don’t have to be a jerk.”
Brock frowns. “I respect Mr. Maxim deeply.”
“Yeah, well, I love the asshole and I can still admit what he is. Don’t beat yourself up, it won’t help anyone.”
“Yes, Mrs. Maxim.” He says it to annoy me, and we both know it, so I just give him a smile and turn away. “Sydney,” he calls after me. I turn back. “Do you believe it’s real now?”
“I don’t know, Brock, I don’t know.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I continue down the hall toward the elevator. We find our way to the hotel using the very well-designed signage. This really is not your average hospital.
There is a middle-aged man behind the check-in counter wearing a suit and a gold name tag that reads “Ted Riddle.” He gives me a sympathetic smile. “Good afternoon,” he says, his gaze dropping to James who is in the carrier, still facing out.
“Hi!” James announces to the entire lobby.
“Well, hello to you,” Ted says, charmed, naturally. My kid is the cutest child ever born.
It occurs to me I have no idea what name Mulberry set the reservation up under. I pull out my phone, hoping there is an answer in my texts, but I just have a missed call from him. “Sorry,” I say. “Give me one second, I’m not sure what name the reservation is under.”
“Take your time,” Ted says, his voice sympathetic again. The man is used to dealing with patients’ loved ones. Everyone staying here is probably dealing with some life and death shit. I bet Ted gets a lot of nastiness thrown his way. It’s when we are at our most vulnerable that we lash out the harshest.
I step away from the check-in counter and call Mulberry. “Sydney.” He answers the phone with my name, and his voice sets off a chain reaction in my body. My throat tightens, my stomach somersaults, and my eyes burn. It’s him. He is alive. And on the phone right now.
“Hi.” My voice comes out all breathless, and I think he’s going to laugh at me but he doesn’t. A long beat of silence passes while we both try to orient ourselves to this new reality where we are both alive and talking. “I don’t know the name the reservation is under,” I say.
“Are you at the hotel?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you. I have your key.”
“Oh, okay.”
I hang up and turn to Ted. “He’s already checked me in and is going to meet me.”
“Let me know if you need anything at all. We are here for you.”
“I’m not really—” I cut myself off. Because what the fuck was I even going to say. I’m not really the loved one of a patient.
My husband is faking. Or I’m faking. But either way, stop giving me those sympathetic smiles because I’m not like other people. Ted waits for me to continue my sentence and, when I don’t, he just nods with understanding, as if attending to a loved one in the hospital often leaves sentences hard to finish.
“Okay, thanks,” I finally say, turning away. Blue’s nose brushes my hip in solidarity—I may be an idiot, but I’m his idiot and he loves me, so I’ve got that.
James cranes his neck to look back at me. “I know, honey, we are going for your nap now. I promise.”
The lobby is done up in bland corporate—burgundy, gold, and blue the dominant colors. The windows look out to the parking area with the desert beyond. In the far distance the highway is blurry under a heat haze.
A screen mounted above the glass-encased fireplace shows images of happy people enjoying the amenities: models in a pool, a graying man wearing a visor and staring into the distance with a golf club at his shoulder. The grin he’s giving says: I just hit the shot of my life.
Blue’s nose taps my hip, and I turn to see Mulberry coming out of the elevators. My breath stops as I watch him. He’s wearing a muted moss-green T-shirt, dark jeans, and desert boots. His eyes scan the room in what looks like a casual glance but I know better. He’s assessing threats.
When his eyes land on me, a smile breaks over his face and it feels like when the sun first peeks over the horizon—when the dawn officially becomes day. He crosses the room, his gait slightly off, just a bit of a hitch that’s been there since he lost part of his leg.
“Hi!” James yells at him.
Mulberry blinks hard as he stops in front of us. “Hi,” he says back in that new voice, his dad voice. Richer, lower, sweeter than anything I’ve ever heard in my life. “How you doing?” he asks James directly.
“He’s tired,” I answer.
Mulberry nods, his expression turning serious, as if a mission has been defined and now Mulberry will fulfill it. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” He reaches for the tote bag on my shoulder filled with James’s supplies.
“Thanks,” I say. He slings it onto his shoulder and then takes my hand as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, leading me toward the elevator. I follow, relishing the feel of his fingers twined with mine. He’s alive.
Blue’s nose bumps James’s foot, knocking it into my thigh, as we step onto the elevator. The doors close and we are alone. Our eyes meet and Mulberry grins down at me. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“I was just thinking the same,” I say.
“We need to talk about so much.”
“I know.”
James starts to fuss again. I sway back and forth. “He needs to nurse and nap. And I need some food. I’ll give him lunch when he wakes up.” I try to recalculate his schedule based on all the switching we’ve done, but I’m too tired.
Mulberry nods. “We can do all that. I had them set up a crib, but I noticed you didn’t have one before. Do you co-sleep?” He says the words like he read them in a book—as if they are the name of a character in a fantasy novel and he is not quite sure of the pronunciation or meaning.
The elevator doors open and Mulberry’s hand comes to my lower back, steering me to the left. “We co-sleep a lot,” I say. “But a crib is good. Sometimes I can get him into it.”
Mulberry uses a key card to open a room, and we enter into a sitting area with kitchenette on one side. “If you give me a list, I can go do some shopping.”
“Thanks,” I say. “And here.” I pull out the phone Brock gave me. “Can you text Brock our room number so that he can have Nila and Frank brought over?”
“Nila and Frank are here?” Mulberry asks as he takes the phone, a smile cresting his lips. He looks excited to see my dogs.
“Yeah, let me put James down and then we can talk.”
James starts crying, his exhaustion and hunger taking over. I unclip the baby carrier and get him out. He starts pushing at my shirt while I kick off my shoes.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Mulberry asks, watching me, as if by paying close attention he can glean how to fit into this new role.
“Water,” I say. “Bring me a glass of water.” I push into the bedroom and pull back the covers, laying James down. His cries increase. This kid is done. I whip off my shirt and push off my pants, climbing in next to him. James turns to me and cuddles close, latching on, his cries quieting immediately as he sucks urgently, his eyes closed.
Blue leaps up on the other side of James and circles before settling with his head on the pillow. Mulberry snorts softly when he walks in holding a glass of water. “Blue looks comfortable.”
“Always,” I say with a smile.
Mulberry hands me the glass of water and I sip it awkwardly while still lying down. He takes it back when I’m done and puts it on the side table. “Need anything else?” he asks.
“I’m good, thanks, I’ll be out in a few.” But even as I say it my lids grow heavy.
Mulberry smiles down at me. “Tell me what I can get at the store so you can take a nap too.”
I laugh softly. “It’s that obvious?”
“Or maybe I just know your sleepy face really well.” He says it so tenderly, so sweetly, in some new voice…maybe it’s his dad voice for me. For the mother of his child. Maybe being a father is changing him the same way motherhood changed me, at the very root of my being. A change that doesn’t feel like change so much as like a kind of accelerated evolution. Were the legs always inside the fish ready to spring out when the right moment arrived?
I give Mulberry a short list and he leaves the room, leaving the door open just a little. A knock at the hotel room door a few minutes later jolts my attention and James tightens his hold on me, sensing my sudden need to get up. But Blue is already off the bed and slipping through the door.
A moment later Nila and Frank follow Blue into the room. Nila leaps lithely onto the bed and settles at my feet while Frank wags his entire body so hard he can’t quite get it together to jump on the bed. Instead he waggles himself over to my side and nuzzles my back making soft keening noises.
“Okay, boy, settle down, James is trying to sleep.” Blue pushes Frank around and herds him onto the bed. Frank settles next to James, his focus wholly on my little boy. It’s as if Frank has found a new best friend. He settles with his muzzle close to James, who soon drifts off to sleep with Frank at his back, me protecting his front, and Nila at his feet, while Blue guards the door.
I think we are going to be okay…which is what I always think right before shit hits the fan.