I’m still sitting on the couch. “Yeah.”
“I hope he knows what an unbelievably beautiful circumstance he could be in with you.”
I smile, this is Benito giving fatherly advice. “Sometimes life isn’t that easy, Benito.”
“And sometimes, it isn’t that hard.” He disappears with a wink.
Were you sent straight from hell to destroy my life?
present
I’m worshipping at the altar of Pinterest again. Lasagna is the target of my affection. I’ve been stalking it like a sociopath, a carb-loving sociopath, for the past thirty minutes.
I check my watch. Seven o’clock. In the morning. It’s Saturday, and I’m picking up the kids from Seamus’s at eight. Now that I’m in my new house we’ve agreed they’ll spend weekends with me.
I clap my hands. “Hell yes, we’re having homemade lasagna for dinner.” It’s positive reinforcement, mental preparation for the culinary challenge ahead. I grab my keys and purse and march out the door on a mission. The mission includes the grocery store, Seamus’s, and while I’m at it I hijack my cooking talisman, Hope—a little insurance that dinner will be palatable. Hope is a goddamn genius in the kitchen. Everyone has a hidden talent—Hope’s, it turns out, is food.
Everyone and everything gathered, we assemble back at my house for Operation Lasagna.
Rory, Kira, Hope, and I are knee-deep in making noodles using the fancy contraption I bought, when Kai bows out to go outside and ride his bike. “Stay close, Kai,” I yell when I hear the front door open.
“I will, Mom,” he answers.
This is the point at which, in hindsight, I want to stop everything and put it in temporary suspense.
Life.
The Earth spinning on its axis.
Every.
Fucking.
Thing.
I want a do-over.
In my do-over, this is what would’ve happened:
I tell Kai no, he can’t ride his bike. Ever again.
He stays and we all tag team the hell out of building a glorious pan of Italian magnificence.
We eat said Italian magnificence in blissful harmony at my dining room table.
Happily ever after.
The end.
Instead, this happened:
I realized I forgot the damn ricotta cheese, because I’m a forgetful loser.
I asked Hope to watch the kids while I ran to the grocery store, instead of taking them with me like a good mom would.
I hurried out to my car and started it with only conquering lasagna on my mind in true self-absorbed fashion, because I’m a selfish bitch.
And then I backed out with a vengeance, forgetting there are more important things in the world than making lasagna.
I heard the crash.
I felt the impact.
And my heart.
Stopped.
Beating.
They say change comes when you least expect it.
That all transformation needs is a catalyst.
I’ll take transformation, but I want a different fucking catalyst.
I’m mechanically filling out forms though I can’t see the words on the page through the fear blotting my vision and streaming down my face. The words, You’re a horrible monster, repeat over and over taunting me like the soundtrack of a horror movie. I’m arguing with them, praying, trading promises, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let him be okay. I’ll do anything. Anything. Take me instead.
“Daddy,” Kira’s voice is weak with sadness, and it pulls me out of my trance.
Seamus is standing just inside the automatic doors, scanning the waiting room for us.
Rory charges to him from the seat next to me.
I’m scared to look at his face. Whatever emotion he’s wearing will be a variety so raw it will strip me to the bone. And I’ve got no flesh left. I forgot what I said to him on the phone when I called. Kai. Bike. Car. Accident. Hospital. Those are the only words I can recall now.
“Is there any news, Miranda? What are his injuries? What have the doctors said?” The words are shaky with dread, but to the point and protective. He’s laser-focused in thought and mission, in problem-solving mode. His posture is stiff and rigid with determination.
But when I meet his eyes, all the fear I feel is reflected back at me tenfold, so I do the only thing I can do. I lie. To put his heart at ease for a bit, I lie. “We don’t have details yet, but he’s going to be okay, Seamus.”
“You’re sure he’s going to be okay?” he asks, eyes pleading for good news.
I nod, and my stomach turns at the lie.
He releases a wobbly breath. It’s relief, and he sits in the chair next to me. Rory crawls into the chair next to him and takes his hand, and Kira climbs into his lap, and he wraps his arm around her. The three of them cluster into a loving, supportive mass because they know how this whole family thing works. They’ve mastered it.
I’m reminded again that I’ve failed. Kai. Them. Me. You name it. I’ve messed it up. I let them find comfort in each other while I finish the paperwork. When I return it to the nurse’s station, I ask if there’s any news. “They’re prepping him for surgery. A doctor will be out to speak to you shortly.”