2.7: Life and Death

     "Tiffani, you should rest."
     "I am." I was leaning against the nursery wall, which we'd, we meaning I stood telling Francois where to move everything, just finished arranging all the furniture for. The result was adorable. The walls where painted pink, with white polka dots, and everything matched; even the little tree shaped bookshelf I insisted we buy the minute I saw it at the baby store. With my due date looming, I was glad everything was ready to go. "Did you put batteries in the monitor?" I asked, for the tenth time.

       "Yes, and in the one in our bedroom, and in the one in our room."  He smiled at me. "There's no need to worry."
        "What if-"
        "My job is to worry. Yours is to take care of yourself and the baby."
        "Okay." I sighed. "W-What if I can't do this?"  I was scared to death. The baby was going to come any minute and I only knew what a few classes and one book told me.
         "We're ready." He smiled. "We did everything we could."
          "But-what-or-maybe-if-what?"
          "Honey," he hugged me awkwardly. "We're ready."
          "We are? We are." I looked at him. "Do we have any honey? Or bananas?" I'd been craving bananas and the sticky sweet honey that I usually hated throughout the pregnancy.
        "I think we bought some yesterday. Rest on the bed, and I'll see."
        We exited the nursery and I shut the door to my  pink delight nursery. I couldn't bear to keep the gender a secret for so many months, besides gender neutral yellow would have been hideous. A nice mint, maybe. Francois had wanted it to stay a surprise, but after I bought every pink piece of clothing and decor that Babies R Us had, he figured out that the little bundle of joy I was carrying around was a girl. Of course, there was a slim chance that the little darling was a boy, but I really hoped s/he was a girl. I wouldn't want to buy a whole new set of furniture and clothing.
        "Isn't that right?" I placed my hands protectively over my balloon sized tummy. I was thirty-five and a half weeks along. I laid down on the bed and propped my swollen feet up on a pillow. Suddenly, I felt strange. "Francois!" I shouted. I was greeted with silence. "Fran-COIS!"
        "Tiffani?!" I heard him thundering up the stairs. "What's wrong?" I stood up and slipped on my shoes, shocked. This was happening. Now. "Tiffani? The baby-okay? " He looked worried.
         "My water just broke." I started hobbling to the stairs.

          "Your wat-" He started panicking. "Hospital!" He helped me to the car and we drove to the hospital. An hour later, I was screaming.
          "Breath. Just breathe." The nurse said, as the doctor gave me different orders.
          "Push!"
          "FUU-DGGGGGE!" I screamed, with a lucky save. This hurt like hell, even with the meds. I felt sorry for Francois's hand, which I was gripping so tight it probably had cut off the blood flow.
          "Congratulations." The doctor smiled, holding up a pinkish squishy blob that I assumed was my child. "It's a girl."
           "I-I'd like to name her Gabrielle." I said a few minutes later, as I held her. Gabrielle, a gorgeous French name.
           "Welcome to the world, Gabrielle." Francois beamed.
          Gabrielle was a little angel. The first six months where rough, but after that she would sleep through most of the night. She began babbling shortly after that, mostly goo's and ga's and random sounds. Time flew by, before I knew it she was going to  turn two soon.
          "Can you believe it?" I asked, laying in bed next to Francois.
          "Our little baby's growing up."
          "She still hasn't walked or said anything other than sounds...is that bad?"
          "She's a little late on the walking, but some children don't talk until they're three. She needs time."
          "What would you think about another baby?" I nervously said. "I loved Gabrielle to pieces; I just think she needs a sibling..."
           "When?" He asked.
           "When?"
           "When do you want a another baby? When do you want to start trying?"
           "Well...I know we wanted to have the wedding first....but I think I'm-" Suddenly, an ear piercing scream jerked us fully awake. Francois, who was savoring the minutes until he had to go to work, ran to the nursery. I threw on my robe and followed.

           "Is Gabrielle okay?" I asked, out of breath. Then, it hit me. "Mom!" Iran outside to the pool, Francois following me. She was passed out, by the pool, in her swimsuit. Worry overcame me. I hope she was just tired. "Mom? Mom?" I tried talking to her.
           "She has a pulse." He exclaimed.
           "Ma'am? Ma'am?" A voice filled the air. Her phone. I searched around for it, finding it and clutching it to my ear.
           "Hello? Who is this?"
           "The hospital. Ma'am, I'm afraid he didn't make it."

Harry's Point of View....one hour ago....

      I tied my running shoes, preparing for my morning jog. I kissed Alyce, who was laying in bed with her eyes open.

         "Harry. I love you. Can you believe it? We've been married so long...our anniversary is tomorrow. And Gabrielle's birthday next week...."

         "Amazing how time flies. Isn't it? So many year, yet it feels like only a day. I love you, Alyce." I leaned over and kissed her. "See you soon." I st
ood up and walked downstairs and outside. The morning air was cool and fresh. Perfect for a jaunt. 

         My feet began pounding the pavement. The sky began opening up, crying. The rain fell onto the pavement, making it slick. I felt a jerk in my chest. That's odd. I was tumbling to the ground. My vision became dark and blurry; I couldn't see anything. 

        "Alyce...I lo-" My body hit the pavement.

 Alyce's Point of View...

     Harry Laurel. He couldn't be gone. NO. No, he couldn't. Harry. I felt the tears well up inside me. He had to be okay. This had to be a joke. Any minute, he'd pop up from behind some furniture and we'd be okay. He'd kiss me and tell me he was sorry for scaring me, and it would be okay.

     But it wasn't. He was gone. I lay on the bed, silently. They'd insisted on taking me to therapy for the last month. I was fine. One month....the funeral was in three weeks. Four weeks without him. I closed my eyes. My heart felt heavy.
     "Mom." Tiff whispered, quietly coming in. "Mom, I have news."
     "What is it honey. Is it good? I could use some good news?"
     "It is." She beamed. "Gabrielle-"
     "And your husband."
     "Well, not yet. We're going to set a date, soon."
     "That's good. It's good you found someone...commitment...it can be difficult."
Commitment is scary. I can't decide if I made the right choice...I know I did....sometime I doubt myself, though. Is that wrong? I sometimes wonder what would have happened if my taxi cab had just kept driving into the sunset, never stopping in Bridgeport. We'd be in some random town with no gas in the car. I'd never be a mom, I'd not be married...sometimes I wanted that. Sometimes I wish life was different....I look into the face of my children, my husband, and know I did everything right. I messed up a couple times, yet somehow they've forgiven me. That's all I needed. As my thoughts become blurry and my heartbeat slows, I realize my life is complete. I can go.
   "I love you....never....never forget your regrets; they're your best decision, you just never realized it. Moving to Bridgeport was mine...." I closed my eyes as I hear the tears rush down everyone's faces.  "Tell him, tell him..." My voice falters; I let myself drift off, I never spoke another word. I was complete.

Tiffani's Point of View...

     "Mom? Mom, wake up!" I felt the tears drip down my face.  She never knew. I didn't get to tell her. I felt for a pulse, wanting some sign that she was okay. I knew that everything was heading to this. She died from a broken heart. 

      "Tiffani?" Francois came in. "Tiffani?!"He looked from her body to me. 

      "Call 911! Quick she might..." It was to late. I knew that. But a little piece of me held onto the hope. 

      "I will." He called them. I heard sirens in the distance. He exited to greet them.

      "Mommy." I whispered, my voice turning childish."Mommy. Gabrielle said 'Gwama'. Her first word! Mommy?" She was gone.