“I will, Carlos,” he replied. “I was just about to motivate myself to get back to my office, but I was enjoying the quiet.”
“Okay,” Carlos said. They were silent for a few seconds and Carlos looked up at the stars. “We like it here,” he told Dr. Grind. “I really thought I would hate it, being cooped up with a bunch of strangers and ten crying babies, but I don’t. I like everything about it.”
“I’m glad,” Dr. Grind said, patting Carlos on the shoulder, grateful for this small kindness.
“Thanks for everything, Dr. Grind,” he said, and then gave Preston a quick hug, the intimacy startling the doctor. “Thanks for watching out for us.”
Dr. Grind simply nodded, too embarrassed to speak, and Carlos hustled back to the warmth of his home, waving just before he quietly shut the door. Dr. Grind stood and walked slowly back to Main 1. He had no idea what would come next, but maybe if everyone around him thought he did, it would all work out. As long as they thought that he was taking care of them, nothing bad could happen. He would give them everything they wanted, even things they didn’t know they wanted, and they would all be okay in the end.
When he returned to the main building, he saw one of the night nurses waiting for him in the hallway. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing the tight look of inconvenience on her face.
“We have a slight situation,” the woman said. “Ellen is in the sleep room, but she’s not scheduled for tonight. She’s been there for about thirty minutes now.”
“What is she doing?” he asked. “Has she woken up Marnie?”
“No,” the woman replied. “She’s just standing over her crib. We told her she should get some sleep, but she won’t say anything. And we don’t want to escalate the situation and wake the babies.”
“Call Harris,” Dr. Grind said. “Wake him up and tell him to come over.”
Dr. Grind charged up the steps, all the certainty and calm from his meeting with Carlos now vaporized. He swiped his card, making a note that perhaps he should program the reader so that it would not allow anyone who wasn’t scheduled to enter the sleep room, and found the parents on duty and the other nurses standing at a good distance from Ellen, who was, as the nurse had said, simply standing motionless over Marnie’s crib. Dr. Grind nodded at the silent group, who looked like hostages in a crisis, and slowly walked over to Ellen. He put his hand on her shoulder and, without even looking back at him, she replied, “I know this is bad.”
“It’s not bad,” he whispered to her. “It’s totally understandable.”
“I tried not to come in here,” she said. “But then I did.”
“Let’s move away from Marnie so we don’t wake her, Ellen,” he said, gently guiding Ellen from the crib, from the other parents, who watched in stunned silence, from the room itself, until the door clicked shut and the two of them stood alone in the hallway. Almost immediately, Ellen slumped into his arms and he held her up. “I can’t help but feel like I’ve made a terrible mistake,” she said, her teeth now chattering.
Just then, Harris stood at the entrance to the stairway, holding out his arms as if waiting for direction. Dr. Grind held up a hand to ask for a few minutes alone.
“You haven’t made a mistake, Ellen, I promise you that,” he said. He could feel something inside him opening up, a kind of black hole that was slowly rotating and sucking in any emotion that might spill out of him. “Being a parent is the hardest thing you’ll ever do. We’re all adjusting to that. We’re all trying to do our best.”
“I don’t think my best is going to be enough,” she said.
“It will. I know with absolute certainly that it will be more than enough.”
“Harris thinks so,” she said. “He said this was where we needed to be. He said this place was going to be so good for us, for Marnie. So I guess it’s just me.”
“Everyone has doubts,” Dr. Grind said.
“Even you?” she said.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Of course.”
Her teeth stopped chattering and she slowly let her own body support its weight, pulling gently out of Dr. Grind’s grasp. Dr. Grind motioned for Harris to now come over.
Just before Harris stepped into earshot, Ellen leaned into Dr. Grind and whispered, “Even if this all turns out to be for the best, Dr. Grind, I still kind of hate you.”