The hardest days with Justin gone were those leading up to the holidays. This was going to be Bea’s first Christmas, and we’d be spending it without him.
Justin’s tour had made its way out West. He would be performing two shows in Los Angeles, one on Christmas Eve and one on Christmas Day, so there was no way that he could sneak any time away to come home. After those gigs, the band would only remain in the US for another week before flying to Europe where the tour would continue until they returned to America in the spring. It made me tired just thinking about all of the travelling he was doing.
I had to give Justin credit, though. He’d stuck to his word about Skyping every other day with us. As much as I looked forward to those chats, it was getting harder and harder to be away from him. As the days went on, so had the fresh memory of our time together in Massachusetts. The reassurance that night had given me was slowly being replaced by fear and insecurity again with each day that passed. While I trusted him more after we’d made love, he still hadn’t told me he loved me. In my mind, that meant that nothing was set in stone. Couple that with the fact that he would be away for over a dozen more weeks, and that made for one paranoid girlfriend.
It was two days before Christmas. Bea and I were invited to an ugly sweater party over at Roger and Susan’s house. Justin had called earlier to say they’d just arrived in California. I was grateful for the distraction that the party would bring. At least for a couple of hours, it would prevent me from sulking in front of the Christmas tree at the beach house.
I’d gone to a local thrift store and bought a hideous red sweater with little Christmas bulbs sewn onto the front. I’d even managed to find an ugly Christmas sweater onesie online for Bea. So, we were all ready for the festivities.
The temperature was frigid as I bundled Bea up and ran across to the neighbors’ house which was lit up in multi-colored lights. An inflatable snowman blew in the wind out front. Living near the water in the middle of winter was less than ideal.
Carrying some freshly-baked sugar cookies, I knocked on their door with my foot, since I had no extra hands.
Roger opened the door. “Amelia, you made it! Susan wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, handing him the plate of cookies. “Is Susan in the kitchen?”
“She is. You’re the first one here.”
“Figures.” I grinned. “I have the shortest commute.”
Just as I was about to head to see Susan, Roger’s voice stopped me. “Hey, Amelia?”
“Yes?”
“Since Susan’s been back, we really haven’t had a chance to talk. I’ve always felt a little strange about not telling you myself about us getting back together.”
“You didn’t owe me any explanation. I already explained to her that nothing happened between you and me.”
“I know you did. I’m really happy that you two have become friends. And I want you to know that I was truly grateful for your friendship, too, at a time when I really needed it.”
“I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Thank you.” He paused. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
Roger tilted his head. “Are you happy?”
“I am. Just a little lonely with Justin gone.”
“You know, you used to tell me that there was nothing going on between the two of you…”
“At the time, there wasn’t. I’d always had feelings for him, though.”
“He’s coming back, right? After the tour?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what he wants to do with his life? Be a touring musician? Live on the road?”
“I’m not sure if that’s how it’s always going to be. He works in software sales, but that’s not his dream. Music is his dream. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so he had to take it.”
“Who’s he on tour with again?”
“Calvin Sprockett.”
“Wow. Yeah. That’s pretty big stuff.”
“It is.”
After a bit of awkward silence, Roger asked, “Are any of those guys still married?”
“You mean Calvin and his band?”
“Yeah…”
I had to think about it. “Now that you mention it…I don’t think they are.”
Roger hung up my coat as he said, “I suppose marriage doesn’t really mesh with sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. Not to mention constantly traveling. You know, things had never been harder for me than when I was physically away from Susan and Alyssa. I don’t know too much about Justin, but it seems like he’s very fond of Bea. If he wants to be a father to her, absenteeism really doesn’t work. I figured that out the hard way, and that was without the additional complication of fame.”
“I don’t think he’s figured out whether he wants kids.”
“Well, don’t you think it’s time he did, if he wants to be with you?” Roger must have sensed that he was stressing me out. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I’m just looking out for you.”
“I appreciate that. But I’m just looking for eggnog tonight, nothing more complicated than that, alright?”
Closing his eyes briefly in understanding, he chuckled and said, “You got it. Let me grab some for you.”
Through the muffled laughter of their guests, who were dressed in a rainbow of ugly sweaters, my thoughts kept me distracted. Even though my conversation with Roger had long ended, I’d spent the remainder of the party pondering everything he’d said. It was nothing I didn’t already worry about, but hearing the concern come from someone else—someone who understood the long-term responsibilities of fatherhood—was eye-opening.
***
Back at the house later that night, I rocked Bea to sleep in front of the tree to the sounds of a children’s choir CD of Christmas carols. Earlier in the week, I’d wrapped some presents and placed them under the tree. They were all for Bea and included a small box that Justin had shipped to her to be opened on Christmas morning.
I didn’t need anything this year; Bea was my Christmas gift. She was the greatest gift from God and had taught me more about unconditional love than anyone or anything else ever had. She’d given me a purpose. I kissed her head softly, vowing to always be there for her no matter what happened with Justin. I vowed to be the type of mother that I never had.
Still in my Christmas sweater, I placed a sleeping Bea in her crib, taking a moment to look around and admire Justin’s handiwork in the nursery.
Back in my room, I couldn’t sleep. I’d just nodded off when my phone chimed, waking me up.
You asleep?
Amelia: Wide awake now.
Justin: Will you call me? I don’t know if Bea is near you and don’t want to wake her.
He picked up on the first ring after I dialed him.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi.”
His voice sounded sleepy. “I woke you, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but it’s okay. I’d rather speak to you than sleep. Where are you?”
“I’m at the hotel in Los Angeles. We’re off the buses till Christmas night.”
“That must be a nice change, getting to sleep in a real bed.”
“It only reminds me that you’re not here with me.”
“I wish I were.”
“It’s really bugging me that I can’t be with you guys for Christmas.”
“I don’t understand why they don’t give you Christmas off.”
“Calvin’s always done Christmas shows. It’s sort of his tradition. It sucks. You’d think none of these people have families. I feel bad for the crew members with kids.”
“It doesn’t really ever end, does it?”
Justin sounded confused by my comment. “What in particular?”
“I mean, this tour will end. But the life of a musician never really does.”
“It’s not like I won’t have a choice in the matter. I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything I don’t want to.”
“Yes, but after this tour, so many more people will know who you are. The opportunities will start coming, and fame will be addicting. That was the point of all this, right? To grow your music career? Are you really going back to your software job, like none of this ever happened? What exactly is going to happen?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far. I just want to come home to you first. That’s all I want. I won’t be going away again anytime soon after that.”
“But you might be going away again at some point. This isn’t just a one-time thing, right? It never really ends.”
“Why all of the worrying all of a sudden, Amelia?”
“I don’t know. I guess I have too much time alone to think.”
“I’m sorry. But the truth is, I just don’t have all the answers tonight. I can only tell you what I’m feeling right now, and that’s that I don’t want to be here and would give anything to be home for Christmas with you and Bea.”
Rubbing my tired eyes, I said, “Alright. I’m sorry. It’s late, and you must be tired.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for talking to me about how you feel. Remember, you promised to be honest with me if something is bothering you.”
“I know.”
Just when my nerves had started to calm down, it sounded like there was a knock at his door.
“Hang on,” he said.
My heartbeat started to accelerate when I heard a woman’s voice in the background.
I couldn’t make out what she was saying but could hear Justin say, “No, thanks. I appreciate it, but no.” He paused. “Alright. Good night.” I could hear the door click shut.
He returned to the phone. “Sorry.”
“Who was that?”
“Someone wanted to know if I was interested in a massage.”
“Massage?”
“Yes. Calvin sometimes hires people to give massages. He must have sent someone up here to ask if I wanted one.”
The eggnog from earlier was starting to come up on me. “So it was just a random girl coming into your room to give you a massage?”
“Amelia…I didn’t ask for one, nor did I want one. I sent her away. I can’t help it if someone knocks on my door.”
“Have you ever had one?”
His tone was angry. “No!”
“I can’t handle this.”
“I get why a strange woman coming to my hotel room door would piss you off, alright? But you either trust me, or you don’t. Trust is a black or white issue. There is no such thing as trusting someone a little. It’s either there, or it isn’t. Fuck. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do! I never said I didn’t trust you. It’s just…that lifestyle makes me uncomfortable. And I’m lonely. I don’t know if this is the kind of life I want.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” I said, my voice barely audible.
There was a long moment of silence as I listened to his breathing. Then, he finally spoke, “I can’t even see the faces of the people in the audience. When I’m singing, I’m singing to you, counting down the days till I come home. Wouldn’t that just be a fucking hoot if there was nothing left to come home to.”
Why haven’t you told me you loved me?
I’d really pissed him off. I needed to end the call before I said something further that I’d regret.
“You have two big shows coming up. You can’t afford to get all stressed out. I’m sorry for causing a fight.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”
“Alright,” he said.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
After we hung up, I had a hard time falling back to sleep. Ending the call on bad terms made me feel like shit. I thought I couldn’t feel any worse.
The events of the following morning would make the previous night’s argument seem vastly insignificant.
***
Call it mother’s intuition.
Something woke me up, even though it was quiet. The clock showed nearly 4AM.
As I tried to fall back to sleep a few minutes later, what sounded like light wheezing came through the baby monitor; you could barely hear it.
Panicking, I hopped out of bed so fast that it made me lightheaded. Running down the hall to Bea’s room, it felt like my heart was in my mouth as I practically tripped over my own feet.
Everything seemed to be happening so fast, yet at the same time, they were the longest, scariest moments of my life. Bea was struggling to breathe, her little eyes looking up at me helplessly. She was choking but unable to cough. My mind raced as I scrambled to remember the steps from the infant CPR class I’d taken back in Providence.
Turning her face over my forearm, I held her jaw with one hand to support her head. I slapped her back five times between her shoulder blades. She still couldn’t breathe, and nothing came out.
Turning her face up, I placed two fingers in the middle of her chest and pressed down in quick thrusts. The object still wouldn’t dislodge. I ran with her to my room to grab my phone and dialed 911. I couldn’t even remember what I’d said to the operator because when Bea became unresponsive, I was losing my own ability to breathe.
I alternated between back blows and chest compressions as the dispatcher guided me. The object finally flew out of her mouth, and I realized it was one of the small bulbs from my sweater. It must have fallen into her crib.
While the bulb had come out, Bea was unconscious.
The next thing I knew, sirens were blaring. I ran downstairs with her to let them in. Men rushed into the room. They began performing CPR on my baby girl.
My entire life hung in the balance as I watched helplessly, paralyzed by fear. It was no different than being unconscious myself.
When one of the EMTs indicated that she was breathing again, it was as if I’d come back from the dead. Tears streaming down my eyes blinded me from getting a clear view as they put her onto a stretcher and directed me to get into the ambulance. Because she’d been unconscious for so long, she needed to be taken to the hospital for treatment and to ensure that there wasn’t any brain damage or internal injuries.
Still in my sleep sweats with no coat, I sat in the ambulance alongside her as one of the men held an oxygen mask over her face.
Too shook up to speak, I typed out a series of choppy texts to Justin.
Bea is alive.
Choked on a small ornament.
Got it out.
EMTs performed CPR.
In ambulance heading to hospital.
I’m scared.
Within seconds, my phone rang. It had to be one-thirty in the morning in L.A.
Justin’s voice was shaky. “Amelia? I got your message. Oh my God. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s conscious and breathing. I just don’t know if there was any other damage.”
“Can you see her? Is she with you?”
“Yes. She’s got an oxygen mask over her face, but her eyes are open. I think she’s scared.”
I heard rustling then he said, “I’m getting on the next flight out there.”
Still in shock, I was silent.
His voice seemed to be fading into the distance. “Amelia? Are you there? Hang in there, baby. She’s going to be okay. She will.”
“Okay,” I whispered through my tears.
“Where are they taking her?”
“Hasbro Children’s Hospital in Providence.”
“Call me as soon as you know anything.”
“Alright.”
“Be strong, Amelia. Please.”
