now, Jonas, okay?” Josh says into my ear.
I groan.
“Do you hear me?” Josh asks. “I’m coming.”
I don’t reply.
“Jonas?”
“I hear you.”
“I’m coming. Sit tight.”
“I don’t know if I told her I love her, Josh—I don’t think I did. And now she’s all alone in there.”
“Pull out your music right now, Jonas. Do you hear me? Listen to music ’til I get there. Do it right now.”
“Her socks were soaked in blood, Josh. Dripping in blood.”
“Don’t do a goddamned thing except listen to music—do you understand me? Not a goddamned thing. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t think anything. Just pull out your music and listen.”
I mumble my reply.
“Don’t think worst-case scenario, Jonas. Don’t imagine flinging yourself off a fucking bridge.” His voice breaks. “Don’t give in. Don’t walk outside. Just listen to music and close your eyes and do your visualizations and don’t think about a goddamned thing but the music. Sarah’s gonna be okay. And so are your babies.” He almost loses it. “She’s Sarah Fucking Cruz, Jonas. She’s Sarah Fucking Cruz.” His voice breaks with sudden emotion. There’s a long pause. I hear him take a deep breath. “You need to be strong for Sarah. You understand me, Jonas? You’re a husband and father now. That means you don’t get to fall apart. Sarah and your babies are counting on you.”
I feel like he just slapped me across the face with a two-by-four. I try to answer, but I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded.
“It’s time to be a beast for Sarah and your babies. Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to fall apart. So don’t do it.”
“Okay.”
“You got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Listen to your music. Right now.”
“Okay.”
“Do it now. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. Come soon, Josh. I need you.”
“I’m coming now.”
I mumble something and hang up the phone.
“Is he coming?” the nurse asks.
I forgot the nurse was sitting here. I take a deep breath and collect myself. “Yeah. My brother. Josh. He always comes when there’s blood. Every time.”
The nurse pauses, looking slightly confused for a moment. “Are you going to be okay sitting here by yourself ’til your brother gets here?” she asks. “Or do you want me to sit with you?”
I hold up my phone. “I’m not allowed to fall apart anymore. I’m gonna listen to music. I’m a beast.”
“Okay. I’ll be right over there behind the counter if you need me. The charge nurse will come out to give you an update as soon as possible.” She puts her hand on mine. “Mr. Faraday, I know they’re doing everything possible for your wife and babies.”
My wife and babies. My chest tightens. They’re doing everything they can for my wife and babies. Because I’m a husband and father now. Well, I was. For a brief, shining moment I was a husband and a father. But not anymore. Now I’m alone.
Again.
All alone.
I stifle a sob.
She pats my hand again and gets up.
I scroll through the music library on my phone, but I can’t settle on anything. What song could possibly say what needs to be said at a moment like this? Is there a song called, “I don’t want to wake up if she’s not next to me?” Where’s the fucking song that says that?
“Faraday, party of four,” Sarah said—and I let her say it—I even smiled when she said it—and then I joined her in painting the fantasy. “I’ll strap one baby to my back and one to my chest,” I said, knowing full well it would never happen. Why the fuck did I say it? And why the fuck did I ask Sarah the names of the babies? It would have been so much easier if I’d never known my dead babies’ fucking names.
I continue scrolling through the songs without stopping. There’s no song on earth that’s going to say what needs to be said. Is there a song that says, “I don’t know how to suck air into my lungs if you’re not by my side?” Where the fuck is that fucking song? “I’ll take you away once a week so I can fuck you without waking up the kids,” I said to her, utterly deluding myself.
Song titles are whizzing past my eyes. My vision is blurring. There’s no song to say what I want to say.
“When the babies are two or three, we’ll get a puppy,” I said to her, even though I knew deep in my soul my babies would never get to be two or three. “A live-in housekeeper’s non-negotiable,” I said, as if any