Adam got to the NICU after all the commotion had settled.
Sophie looked up and glared at him.
“Where have you been? Danny nearly died, for God’s sake!
I’ve been trying to call you.”
Adam gently pulled her up out of her chair and wrapped his
arms around her. She softened and buried her head in Adam’s
chest. He pulled her close. She tried to tell him everything that
had just happened, but it came out in garbled, sniveling half
sentences.
“They said it was just a setback,” she muttered. She pushed
herself away and looked up at him. “Where the hell have you
been anyway?” It was easier for her to feel angry at Adam than
sad and helpless about Danny. With her nose up near his face,
she sniffed. “Have you been drinking? Jesus, Adam, this is not the
time to be getting drunk.”
Adam sat down hard. “I’m not drunk.” Then he meekly
added, “But you’re right, Soph. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
She turned away and busied herself with folding Danny’s lit
tle T-shirts. She sniffled softly and wiped her nose on the back of
her hand. She couldn’t hide the fact that she was upset. This sce
nario wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Whenever Adam used to return
home drunk, she’d get mad, and he’d be quiet, allowing her to
vent. Then they’d go to bed, her still angry and him feeling guilty.
But that hadn’t happened for a while—at least since Sophie
found out she was pregnant. They’d made a pact: if she couldn’t
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JULIE HATCH
drink because she was pregnant, then he wasn’t going to drink
either. Maybe he thought the rules had changed. If she was no
longer pregnant, then he could drink again.
Adam put his hand gently on her shoulder, which she
brusquely shook off.
“I can see I’m not helping here.” Adam paused. When Sophie
didn’t respond, he added, “So I’m going home to bed. I’ll be back
tomorrow morning on my way to work.” He gave her a little peck
on the cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said, and left.
The next morning Sophie was sitting on a stool next to Danny,
one arm draped over the side of the incubator, the other arm
in the incubator, her finger caressing his little head. She was lost
in thought as she murmured to him, urging him to get better so
he could get stronger and big enough to go home.
Adam came into the pod, as promised, on his way to work.
He had brought her favorite latte, and they sat and drank their
coffees together.
“Nothing’s changed with him,” Sophie said in a flat tone that
matched her mood.
Adam stayed long enough to finish his coffee, then stood to
leave. “I have to get to work.” He kissed his finger and put it
through the incubator portholes, landing it on Danny’s nose. He
turned to Sophie and kissed her on the lips. “Are we okay?” he
asked.
She shrugged and turned away. “I am. What about you?”
“I was thinking. Maybe I, or we, should talk to a social worker.
I know this is taking its toll on me. I can only imagine what it’s
doing to you.”
Sophie looked at him and almost smiled. “You know, I think
that’s a really good idea.”
