Kyle
Our first appointment with the doctor, where the pregnancy would get official confirmation, was scheduled for the following Friday—not that we needed the confirmation. Cassidy’s morning sickness the last two days had pretty much clenched it in our minds.
I took my final real estate exam that morning to get my license. With the baby coming, it was time to be serious and get that out of the way. Cassi was still doing her thing; i.e. dancing until her toes were falling apart. Although I hadn’t said anything to her, I’d noticed her belly had begun swelling up of late. Which is why I didn’t want to say anything about her dancing while pregnant. She might as well dance now, and enjoy herself, because the weight of the baby, and the havoc it would cause to her balance, would soon make dancing a near impossibility.
Classical music could be heard throughout the school, accompanied by eight counts being belted out by the teachers. Multiple days since I’d first heard the song for the piece they were learning had passed. Each time it got stuck in my mind and then played on repeat for hours. One of the joys of being engaged to a prima ballerina. Thinking about her made me smile.
Yeah… I know how that made me look, but I loved her. Which was all that mattered.
Twirling, dipping, and leaping in her black tutu, Cassidy’s every move was precise—feet well-aligned with the perfect curve of her shoes, attention to placement of fingers, back straight, and neck held high, she was a vision. Her whole demeanor changed when she went into dancer mode. From the funny, free-spirited girl I knew and loved, she switched to serious and graceful when she stepped inside this building. The way she walked shifted to pointing her toes up front before her heel, sort of how she worked her pointe shoes. Even her voice changed, becoming a whisper, a soft calm.
My heart rate was starting to climb as anxiety about the upcoming appointment started, but when I waved as she saw me standing by the open door, her smile became as wide as her face. Her eyes reflected the happiness we both felt.
“Ready to go, babe?” I asked before she welcomed me with a quick kiss on the lips.
“Most definitely.” As the tutu dropped to the floor, she untied her hair, letting it fall down over her face and shoulders, and then undid her shoes.
She was in a hurry, I could tell, and before I knew it, we were walking toward the parking lot, our clammy, trembling fingers clasped together. We hopped in our car, and I drove us to the hospital. Our appointment was on the maternity floor.
Cassidy hesitated, looking down at her belly and praying, before getting out of the car. I thought it was pretty damn cute, but wondered why she felt the need to pray. We were both a hundred percent certain she was pregnant; she had all the symptoms.
“You never pray. Why now?”
Caressing her small bump with her hand, she let out a timid chuckle. “I don’t know. Just feels right to pray for a healthy baby with a strong heart and his, or her, father’s looks.”
“Nah, your looks, babe. You’re the prettiest.”
Rolling her eyes and squeezing my knee at the same time, she suppressed a laugh. “Come on, let’s go. It’s almost time.”
About an hour later, we were waiting to get an ultrasound. Cassidy had peed in a cup and been poked and prodded by multiple nurses collecting vitals and drawing blood for her preliminary labs. Once a positive pregnancy test via blood was on record, she was passed onto the actual doctor, who, because of her career as a ballerina, suggested a more elaborate check-up. He knew she was healthy, but given the diet restrictions and intense physical training, he wanted to be sure she was “baby healthy,” as he called it.
Doctor Devon started pressing on Cassi’s belly once she was lying down the bed. As we held hands, her nervous eyes kept darting to mine. Each time I winked at her, trying to give her some kind of comfort.
“This might be cold, I’m sorry,” Devon warned a second before squirting gel on her belly and then swiping what he explained was a transducer across her lower belly in search of the heartbeat. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before the sounds echoed from the speaker. Cassidy’s slower, steady thumping was joined by a much faster, and louder, beat. Incredible.
“A strong baby you have here,” Doctor Devon said, and tears rolled down to Cassidy’s temples. “Look, here.” He pointed at the monitor then made a few measurements, clicking away. “This little blob right here, is your baby. I’d say you are approximately ten weeks pregnant. Congratulations.”
“Ten weeks?” Cassi and I said at the same time.
“But I had my period five weeks ago. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“That happens sometimes, it isn’t abnormal,” he said, then went on explaining how it wasn’t rare, but I wasn’t listening.
My eyes were glued to the screen while my ears absorbed the sound of my baby’s heart beating. “Wow, ten weeks. I still can’t believe it.” Cassi squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.
“Everything looks real good, and right on track for now. I’ll give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and my nurse will give you some literature to go over some of the initial questions all new parents have. You can schedule your next appointment at the front desk. Feel free to give us a call if anything comes up before then. Nice meeting you both.”
“Can we have a picture of the baby?”
“Two, please,” I asked, wanting one to keep in my wallet.
“Of course!” Doctor Devon printed out then handed us two black-and-white images before leading us back to the front desk. While we waited to be checked out and scheduled for the next appointment, Cassidy held her picture and prescription. My eyes filled with tears looking at the picture. It was so small, and yet, I already loved him – or her – so much. This realization made me wonder how my father could have left me all those years ago without ever looking back, and it hurt. I’ll never leave my child. Never.
After the appointment, Cassidy wanted to go to a baby store, and I agreed. Buying the first onesie or some cute pajamas seemed as good a way as any to start celebrating the life of our baby.
We discussed furniture with a sales representative, and looked at everything from strollers and car seats to bottles and diaper bags. My brain hurt and my wallet feared for its viability. Seemed part of our upcoming life change was that expenses were about to double, and I kept reminding myself it was time to take my job seriously. I needed to be the best real estate agent in Seattle to make myself proud, and Cassidy, too.
We ended up buying one pair of pajamas, in neutral colors, of course. They were yellow and green with little frogs and turtles on them. Something cute for a boy or girl.
When we walked out of the store, it was dark, but the weather was perfect. Hoodie weather, I liked to call it.
“Do you mind if we take a walk?”
Sometimes it felt like she could read my mind. “No, it’s perfect right now. Anywhere specific you want to go?”
“By the water maybe?”
I smiled. She loved the view Seattle offered on Elliot Bay. It was an area we went to at least once a week.
We walked side by side, with my arm around her shoulder. Her loose hair danced in the soft breeze, and she laughed as she told me about her day at the studio.
“How far into the pregnancy will you be able to dance with the troop?”
“Damn, I have no idea, babe. My body is already getting tired faster, and Mrs. Cléroux won’t be happy with a fat ballerina.”
“Don’t say fat. You’ll be far from fat. You’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant or not, she won’t like having a prima ballerina with a big baby bump. I’ll tell her tomorrow, and I’ll probably be fired tomorrow, too, but we have a plan B. Tomorrow night, I start at the ballet school downtown, and you know what? I’m happy about that.”
“I’m sure you will be an amazing teacher. You have it in you.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You are handling things very well, Ms. Davids.” As I kissed her temple, she squeezed my hand.
“You are too, Mr. Layne. You’re going to do great with your real estate. I know you will.”
At least one of us has faith, I thought with a wry grin. I wanted to do this, but being a real estate agent scared me. My true passion lived in my hands and my head, where I could create a design and transform it into a tattoo. The whole real estate thing was for Cassidy, and now our child, to give them the best life possible.
“Why are you so quiet right now, Kyle?”
“Just thinking. I want to make sure you and the baby will have everything you need.”
Pulling me back a few steps, she tugged me closer to her, so our fronts were touching. “I don’t want you to worry, K. A perfect life doesn’t mean diamonds and designer clothes. It means having a roof over our head, being surrounded by love, and having our health. Things we already have.”
We had such a different vision of what we both wanted. Cassidy did deserve diamonds, plenty of them. One every Christmas, one every Valentine’s Day. She was right, though; we already had everything to have a good life, and I should consider myself lucky. What with all the broken families around town, the poor and hungry, even the unhappy, rich businessmen living in their offices.
I had everything, I didn’t need more. “You’re right, Cassi. We’re happy, and I love you.”
She raised up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss from me, but a horrible noise sounded out which resonated through my body and left my hair standing on end. Cassidy’s body fell to the sidewalk. She never attempted to resist, she just fell… lifeless.
What the hell is happening?
“Fuck! HELP!” I yelled, begging for someone, anyone, to help.
More gunshots rang out, and I saw two men running toward a building. Cassidy had crumpled to the ground on her stomach, so I turned her over. She was coughing and struggling to breathe, but she was still alive for the moment. There was blood everywhere, and too much of it was coming out of her chest. Holding her, I begged her to stay with me. Not knowing what else to do, I applied pressure on her chest in hopes of stopping the bleeding.
After what had to be the longest ten seconds of my life, Cassidy stopped coughing. Then her breathing stopped, her blue eyes closed, and her movements ceased. Her hair was damp with blood, and her clothes were stained red.
“NO!” I screamed until my throat hurt. “Stay with me, Cassi.”
What the fucking hell happened? I’d had it all two seconds ago, and now, now I didn’t know. Don’t leave me. My life, which had been full of meaning mere moments before, now seemed meaningless. Without Cassidy in it—and right now, it didn’t look good—my life would be a true fucking nightmare.
“Sir? Please step away.”
I didn’t move. My soul was lost. I was crying like an orphan because my life was being ripped from me, and watching it go, hurt.
“Sergeant Eastwood, I saw men running in that direction with guns,” an old man said pointing down an alley.
Numb, I watched the policemen run after the men who’d taken the most precious gift life had ever given me. Then, a paramedic came and took her from me. In a fog, I witnessed their relentless failed attempts to bring her back to me.
Back to life.
Once I was taken care of, I had to leave, without her by my side. I was awake, but felt suspended in time. Alive, but lifeless. Dead inside.
They asked questions, and my body shook. So many questions, and while I heard them, I never answered. I couldn’t speak, or even pretend to care right now. The pain boiling my heart had paralyzed me to everything else.
What am I going to do now?
I had no answer to my own stupid question. It wouldn’t matter what the hell I did, Cassi was gone. I knew that much. The paramedic had been devoted, but from the size of her wound, there was no way my girl had survived.
Sometime later, I spoke up at last, asking if I could see her. Nothing else mattered except seeing Cassidy. Their psychiatrist could fuck off back to where he was from.
I didn’t need to talk. I didn’t even want to live. But, I signed their stupid papers then threw them across the hall.
The morgue. I hated that word.
My girl belonged in a five-star hotel, in a warm bath, not in a non-descript bag in a cold refrigerator. As the man pulled the handle, her body appeared. Pale, cold, and lifeless. All traces of blood were gone, and her hair was tucked behind her neck. I had never seen something so beautiful, yet so heartbreaking. My gaze landed on the flat plane of her belly, no longer swollen.
Our baby. I cried harder with the realization that life was gone too. I’d never hold Cassi again. Or my child. Never in my life would I replace them. Leaning over, I kissed her lips one last time but couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. It would be too real if I said the words.
This was a nightmare, one I couldn’t wake up from.
Turning around, I had no idea where to go or what to do with myself. Wandering into the waiting room, I saw Levi and Tyler, and the pity in their tired red-rimmed eyes, with my mom. Shit had just gotten real. If they looked that bad, I didn’t dare look at myself. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Nothing in my life mattered anymore.
“Kyle, man. I’m so sorry.” Levi stepped closer to me and wrapped his arms around me.
I didn’t feel anything, though. They all hugged me and promised to be there for me. If only that could make a difference in my hell. Living no longer felt appropriate.
The scene kept playing in my mind. Every single detail, I remembered. The memory affected all my senses.
Then I started to wonder what had happened to the suspects, and the policemen who’d been in pursuit. Eastwood. I hadn’t forgotten the officer’s name. Under the watchful worried eyes of my friends and family, I called the police station and asked to speak with Eastwood. When I explained who I was and what I wanted to know, the response I got was the last I’d expected.
“Mr. Layne, Officer Eastwood is there at the hospital. He was shot, too.” There was a brief pause before the dispatcher added, “He’s on the third floor.”
I hung up and searched out the next available elevator to the third floor. I left Levi, Kyle, and Mom without looking back. In my heart, I wanted to hear the suspect had been shot and died in terrible pain. The worst pain imaginable. It wouldn’t give my life back to me, but I wished them a slow painful death anyway, because they didn’t deserve a quick death or to be free.
On the third floor, I asked at the nurse’s desk for Eastwood’s room number. When I got there, the door was guarded by a security agent. My explanation must have convinced him, because it didn’t take more than two minutes before I stood at the foot of Eastwood’s bed.
He was attached to different machines, all of them beeping as they kept track of his body signals and helped him breath. I watched him resting in his bed, and cried again. Why was anybody’s guess. Maybe part of me wished it was Cassidy in that bed. Hurt, and in bad shape, but alive.
My knees gave way and I crumbled to the floor completely broken. I stayed in Eastwood’s room, where I ended up passing out on the cold, hospital floor.
This policeman went after the killers when I didn’t. Eastwood had done what I couldn’t, and I accepted that. There was no way I would have left Cassidy to die alone on that sidewalk.
I could still hear her voice. “A perfect life doesn’t mean diamonds and designer clothes. It means having a roof over our head, being surrounded by love, and having our health. Things we already have.”
I lost it.