I got sent to the er last night because my hemoglobin was low and during imaging they found a clot in my new liver.

So I’ve had 4 units of blood and so far my hg is over 7, which is good for me.

Tomorrow they’re going to do a procedure to clear the clot so for now I’m chilling on the transplant floor, unplugging all my electronics every time I have to get up, lol

I do have a great view out of my window

Considering that his mother and grandfather both turn into monsters on contact with it, that’s probably a good call.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

He took another slow, deep sip.

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.