Chapter 2 - THE HOSPITAL VIGIL
The hospital hallway was a sterilized tunnel of white lights and muffled sounds,
where the smell of floor wax and antiseptic replaced the scent of grilled pork,
and the steady beep of monitors replaced the loud music of the party.
Frederick was behind double doors in the pediatric wing,
surrounded by doctors who were fighting to bring down a fever that had reached dangerous levels.
I sat on a hard plastic chair,
my head in my hands,
counting the floor tiles as if they held the secrets to my failure.
Amy was in the chair next to me,
wrapped in a thin hospital blanket,
her skin looking translucent under the fluorescent hum.
I had finally convinced her to let the nurses wash her face and give her a clean gown,
stripping away the grime of the kitchen and the smell of the greasy dishes.
"I'm so sorry,
Connor,"
she whispered,
her voice so small I had to lean in to hear it.
"I didn't want to bother you at work,
she told me if I complained,
you would lose your job,
she said you were stressed enough as it was."
I looked at her,
my heart breaking all over again,
realizing how deep my mother's manipulation had gone.
"She lied to you,
Amy,"
I said,
my voice thick with emotion,
"I would have walked off that job in a heartbeat if I knew what she was doing."
"She took my phone,
Connor,"
Amy continued,
tears beginning to track through the fresh soap on her cheeks.
"She only let me use it when you called,
and she stood right there,
pinching my arm to make sure I said the right things."
I thought of the three thousand dollars I had sent every month,
money I thought was going toward my son's future and my wife's comfort.
Instead,
it was being used to fund my mother's vanity,
to buy her the jewelry she wore while my wife starved,
and to host parties for relatives who didn't give a damn about our child.
A doctor emerged from the double doors,
removing his mask with a sigh that made me jump to my feet.
"The baby has a severe ear infection that turned into a systemic fever,"
he explained,
looking at us with a mixture of sympathy and concern.
"He's dehydrated,
and his blood sugar was dangerously low,
which suggests he hasn't been fed properly in at least twenty-four hours."
I felt a wave of nausea hit me,
the realization that while my mother served seafood to twenty people,
my son was starving.
"Is he going to be okay?"
I asked,
my voice trembling.
"We have him on IV fluids and strong antibiotics,"
the doctor replied,
"we caught it just in time,
but he'll need to stay here for a few days."
Amy let out a long breath she seemed to have been holding for months,
collapsing back into the chair as she wept.
I thanked the doctor and sat back down,
my mind turning toward the legal storm that was brewing back at the house.
The Nashville police had called my cell phone while we were in the ambulance,
letting me know that my mother was in custody for domestic abuse and felony theft.
They had also taken Mason in,
the folder he was carrying containing not just the deed,
but several forged documents designed to transfer my bank accounts into his name.
My own mother had been plotting to leave me and my wife homeless,
all while using my son's first birthday as a cover for her greed.
I looked at my wife,
the woman who had endured a living hell to protect my peace,
and I made a silent vow.
I would never let anyone hurt them again,
not even the woman who gave me life.
May you like
Blood might be thicker than water,
but it was no match for the love I had for my son and my wife.
