Always You Page 17

  I guess Willard didn’t know about the cheque either.

  After we clear the stage, my support team circles around me and begins chanting. This has me laughing and crying at the same time.

  “Maybelline…Maybelline…we will fulfil your dreams. Together we’ll stand by your side until the day we say goodbye.” They scream this at the top of their lungs and I…well, I cry.

  Once the celebrations cease and the family departs the room, I ask Willard to unzip this beautiful gown so I can give it back to the television station. I’m informed by him that it’s mine to keep, to which I respond with, “Really? Well, I guess we have my burial dress.”

  Will shakes his head mechanically. “Not cool, Maybelline. Not cool.”

  “What?” I shrug. “We do, it’s beautiful. Bury me in this dress, Willard.”

  Folding his arms around my waist, he kisses my hair and breathes, “Okay. This dress, May.”

  The back door slips Willard’s grip when a ripping gust of wind steals it from his hold as we try to exit. The rain is falling and the wind howling.

  “It really is raining cats and dogs, Will.”

  “Yep. Hey, Cliff, can you grab Maybelline’s wheelchair from the car? I’m going to push her out so she doesn’t slip over.”

  “No.” I smile. “Dance with me, Willard.”

  “Are you crazy?” His head shakes and his brow creases when I eye him.

  “Crazy in love with you. You taught me a very special waltz and I’d love to do it again only this time in the rain.”

  “No!” he barks.

  “Yes.” I giggle.

  “May, why do you do these things to me?”

  “Because being spontaneous in life is really important, I’ve learnt.”

  Putting his hands over his face, he rubs them against his skin. By him doing this act, I know he’s going to cave.

  “Fine. Quickly, though.”

  “I’ve got her.” John appears from behind me.

  “Sorry?” I cock my head to the side.

  “I’ll carry you out. Let’s face it. I’m the strongest of the bunch of us.”

  “Are not,” Willard scoffs.

  “Sadly, it’s true, you twig. I’ll carry her out.”

  “You can’t fall, John, or she’ll be hurt.” Willard is worried.

  “I’m not a dumb arse, you dumb arse.”

  “Fine. But if you—”

  “Move, so I have room to carry her dumb arse.”

  Willard walks in front of John, who has me cradled in his arms.

  “Carefully, John.”

  “Willard, stop fussing,” Mum chimes.

  “Like you can talk, Lexis. You’re the biggest fuss pot to walk the planet.” Dad chortles.

  She giggles as does everyone else. Not John or Will, though. They are cold hard serious.

  When we reach the grassed area to the side of the television station, John helps me find my feet, holding on to me until I tell him I’m balanced and he can let go.

  Automatically placing a hand to my lower back and the other into my hand, Willard compliments me on my beautiful dress and begins humming “The Way You Look Tonight.” The humming gets really loud as my head is laid to Willard’s chest. Rolling my head to the opposite side, I see my loved ones dancing in the rain as well. Mum is partnered with Dad, Alex and Sylvia are together, not far behind them. Streeter is spinning Lexi, and Gem is snuggled into John.

  A bunch of crazy saturated people now waltz in the rain, on a grassed area, outside the television station in the town of Wellington and if that’s not already a sight to be seen, they are madly humming loudly…nothing could get better than this.

  Shifting my body to the left, I’m fighting the agony that feels as if it’s bending my bones. Willard has been placing heat packs over my limbs for the last two hours, but the pain only worsens, especially around my rib cage. I can’t help but wonder if the dress was too tight and put pressure against my lungs.

  Moaning, I reach for Willard’s hand and when my fingers contort as they’re wrapped around his, my hand seizes and I scream, “Take the brace off Will. Rip it off.” He does instantly while rubbing into my wrist. “May, I’m taking you to the hospital. Something’s wrong.”

  “No,” I growl in anger.

  “Come on, babe, we need to go in.”

  A shooting pain bounces through me internally, as if it’s set on bouncing from rib to rib. “I don’t want to go,” I howl.

  “Willard, what’s going on?” Gem’s voice is soft, yet shaky as I flick my eyes upwards and clench my teeth.

  “Not sure, call an ambulance. She’s hurting bad.”

  “Gem,” I roar.

  “I’m here, sweetie.”

  “In the dresser, top drawer,” I puff, trying to catch my breath.

  “What, May?”

  “For you.” I curl into a tight ball. Well, as tightly as I can given my expanding tummy.

  “What’s for me?”

  “Open the fucking drawer,” I shout, still trying to catch my breath.

  “Okay, ssshhh. I’m looking.”

  “You stay with her, Gem. I need to grab my phone so I can call for help.” Willard is oddly calm compared to how he’d normally react.

  “I’m here, go,” Gem responds as I hear the drawer open and then close with a sudden slam.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” I tell myself in an attempt to catch my breath until after Gem has my gift. This is it, my end, and I want Gem to have my parting present. Where is she? I try searching for her, but I can’t, and apart from my untimed howls and moans, I hear nothing else.

  “Gem.” I’m completely breathless. There’s still no reply. “Gem.” I use the last of my strength to call her once more.

  “It’s beautiful, May. I love it.” She chokes out.

  “Give Lexis hers for me.”

  “What?” she screeches. “You give it to her.”

  “Get the ambulance, Gem.”

  “Maybelline!” she screams as I feel her weight clamber up the bed. “Willard, shit, Willard.” The rip-roaring agony in her voice spells out her despair.

  My arm is tugged and I feel my body dragged down onto the floor. “May, don’t do this now, don’t do this now, please…Willard! Willard! Quick! Fuck!” As I’m rolled onto my side, Gem flashes into my sight. Her pupils are expanded and her face bright red.

  “I love you. Goodbye.” I breathe.

  “No! No! No! May, please.”

  “I can’t breathe,” my voice is almost inaudible.

  “What happened? Babe, babe.” Will’s voice has me trying to turn my head. I can’t. Suddenly I’m being shaken by my shoulder as agonising pressure is applied. “May!” Will roars like a wounded beast fighting for his pride. “Gem, what happened?”

  “She said goodbye, she’s saying goodbye!” she screams.

  “No. You don’t get to give up, Maybelline. Holy shit, her mouth is turning grey. Call triple 0 again and get them to talk us through what to do. I’m going to start mouth to mouth resuscitation.”

  I’m rolled onto my back and Will’s breath instantly heats my face.

  “Will you love me in the morning?” I strain to whisper this as a trickle of water rushes down both of my cheeks.

  “And every day after. And every fucking day after, Maybelline. Please don’t leave me…fight, you need to fight.” The panic and fear in Willard’s eyes as they stare into mine is frightening me and with the sound of sirens blaring, I allow my eyes to fold shut to block out his shocked glare.

  “She’s turning blue. Gem, she’s turning blue.”

  “Breathe for her, Will. They’re coming.”

  The softness of his lips against mine brings me the last bit of peace I need. “Not today,” he whispers. “You don’t leave me today.”

  There’s no noise.

  Beep…beep…beep…

  The sound of beeping is long and drawn out. I know this sound well now. I’m in the hospital.

  “You did
a great job, Willard. You breathing for May saved her life.” Doctor Brown is here.

  “I didn’t do compressions. I should have done compressions, but I was worried I’d hurt the baby. What was I thinking?” The stressed tone in which Willard speaks saddens me.

  “Willard, you did a fantastic—”

  Will cuts Doctor Brown off, “I should have done compressions.”

  “Willard, you did everything you needed to do and I’m proud of you.”

  Dad’s here.

  “Son, we are all very proud of you.”

  Alex is here too.

  “You know I can hear you, right?” I choke through a gritty throat.

  “May, oh God. May.” A cold hand is placed on my forehead when my eyes flutter open.

  “Hi, baby.”

  “Don’t ever do that to me again. I was so scared.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tears follow my blink.

  “I’m so glad…” He stops speaking.

  “The baby.” Fear whips my heart.

  “Holding strong for now.”

  “Promise?”

  “I do. Some contractions began, but they stopped them.”

  “Why?” I try to sit up, but he restrains me.

  “Stay where you are, babe. Do you want to know why the contractions started?” His eyebrows fold inwards.

  “Yes.”

  He takes a drawn-out breath before he sighs loudly. “They had to restart your heart, May.” Willard softens his tone for this blow. “The paramedics used a machine—”

  “Willard, let me check Maybelline. We can explain everything to her later, okay?” Doctor Brown leans forwards, and I see the colour of his bright orange shirt. Him and these oddly bright shirts. I wonder if he wears them to keep colour in what must be dismal and sad days.

  “Okay,” Will finally huffs.

  “I’ll ask you all to step outside now, please.” Doctor Brown is always so calmly spoken.

  “I’m staying.” Will is firm in his denial.

  “Willard, outside, please.” Doctor Brown flashes me a grin.

  I half smile in return.

  Will huffs again, but he doesn’t follow with anything else.

  “I love you, May,” Dad blurts out.

  I can’t see him, but he’s my daddy and I know his voice better than anyone’s.

  “Love you too, Daddy.”

  Doctor Brown looks to the side of me.

  “Machines,” I mutter.

  “Plenty.”

  “Have they left the room?”

  “They have.”

  “Doctor Brown, what happened?”

  “You have pneumonia, May. Your lungs filled with fluid, too much fluid and much too quickly.”

  “From dancing in the rain?” I feel horrible for putting my wants above the baby. What was I thinking?

  “No, May.” He smiles kindly. “It was caused from an infection. Your immune system is very weak from the cancer.”

  “Oh.” I tilt my chin downwards in search of my bump.

  “Let me tell you what’s been done. Firstly, you have oxygen prods in your nose. These are keeping your oxygen stats high. We managed to drain the fluid from both your lungs. The drains that are on either side of your body right now will be removed shortly.” He pauses briefly. “May, I’m sorry, but we had no choice but to do a PET scan. We learnt a lot from this—”

  “I don’t want to know.” My stomach drops, and my heart constricts with a harsh ache.

  “Okay. Should I explain it to Willard?”

  “No. Just tell me how long I’ve got and leave it at that.”

  “A couple of months.” He closes his eyes and dips his head as one would do in prayer before continuing. “We’ve confirmed the scheduled C-section date for thirty-two weeks.” His expression is relaxed when he gifts me his attention once more, yet I can clearly see his disappointment.

  “That was always the plan.”

  “We are going to give you steroids at twenty-eight weeks and again at thirty weeks. It will help the baby’s lungs develop quicker.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “It is.”

  “You’ve given me lots of drugs, haven’t you?” What has my baby been poisoned with?

  “Yes,” he confesses. “We have antibiotics passing through the drip.”

  “Do I need to have them, or can—”

  “Yes, you do, May. You’ll die without them.”

  “The baby.”

  “We are monitoring baby Connors very closely and Doctor Saunders did a ultrasound earlier when we had you sedated. The baby is a little stressed, but okay.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore. Please get my mum.”

  “Okay.” Patting my shoulder softly, he says, “Be strong, May, not long to go until we deliver your baby and you’ve fulfilled your wish.”

  Rolling my head away from Doctor Brown, I manage to rein in my tears long enough for him to leave. Pinching my lips tightly, my throat tenses with a burn and when I can’t find any more strength, my tears explode heavily and fast. I made a mistake keeping this baby. A big mistake.

  A light touch to my arm has me wiping my face, but it doesn’t stop the water continuously leaking out. The nurse who has been in this room the entire time I’ve been awake is still trying to console me, but all I hear is muttering and false hope. I can’t even look at her. I just want my mum.

  “May-Day, sweetheart.” Her voice intensifies my hurt.

  “Mum.” I continue howling fiercely whilst darting my eyes in every direction they’ll move.

  “Hey, my sweet fighter. Welcome back.” Her beautiful face is finally within view and although my sight is hazy, I’m relieved to see her.

  “You’ve been—” I can’t finish because I’m shaking from my desperate and internal fear.

  Smiling sweetly, Mum says, “It’s going to be okay.” Running her hand up and down my arm has me shaking my head. “Sleep, May-Day, I won’t leave you.”

  “I can’t. I’ve made a big mistake.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m so selfish. I’m not a mother. I’m a selfish person.” Releasing the truth to her ears is justified because these words speak a truth. They speak the truth of the guilty.

  “No, you’re not, not at all. Why would you think this?”

  “The baby. I am doing so many horrible things to hurt it.”

  “Sssssh.” When she pulls my head against her breasts as she leans farther in, I can’t say another word. “You’re a beautiful mother, May, the most beautiful of them all. I know these things because I’m a mother myself.”

  I don’t reply. Instead, I focus on the rhythm of her beating heart.

  “This baby is a fighter, May, your genes are strong.”

  Closing my eyes, I can’t shake the feeling of disappointment. I’m a bad mother, there is no doubting it today.

  With one shot to my upper thigh, the first of the steroids has been delivered for baby Connors.

  “There you go, May, all done. See, not bad at all.” Doctor Saunders has the prettiest smile and she’s always eager to expose it. I look forward to seeing this flash of teeth.

  “It was fine.”

  “See you tomorrow morning at nine a.m. for the second shot. Remember, I said we need twenty-four hours between the two and we need to give the correct dosage.”

  I bob my head and offer her a half-smile. I’m excited, but I’m also a little frightened. We are getting to the business end of this and I’m a little anxious as I try to process the unknown. Will I wake up? Will I see the baby? Will I hold Willard in my arms again?

  “Goodbye, everybody, it was nice to see you all again.” Doctor Saunders interrupts my thought with a chuckle.

  “Sorry about the family cheer squad in tow.” I snicker in return.

  “Don’t be. I like that you travel in a posse. It’s very refreshing. Sorry about the white coat brigade,” she counters, removing her gloves before pressing her hand against my l
eather coat. “You’re nearly there, May. We’re all holding our breaths with you.”

  “I know.” I’m thankful as I place my own hand to her arm. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, even all these extra medical faces joining in on our party.” Roaming my eyes across these many people adorning matching white coats, I wonder if now they will be able to help other women who might face my situation in the future. I don’t know why, but I feel very proud of my achievement.

  Willard hands me the wooden cane I received a week ago. Benjamin, I have named him. He seems like a posh cane. He’s dark mahogany and carved beautifully.

  “You’re my superstar,” Willard whispers against my cheek as we turn to follow our entourage. I am a superstar today. I underestimated my superhero powers, I think.

  “Thank you, Super Will,” I chime with gratitude.

  Watching John and Gem link hands in front of me, I believe the sudden smile I’m sporting will be permanently stitched to my face for the remainder of my now short life. The last few weeks have been interesting, to say the least. Gem and John are now officially a couple. It’s weird to think a cupid’s thought created from a single smile between two people panned out. That’s love for you, though. It’s predictably unpredictable. What a contradictory statement to make, but I’m sticking to it because it’s the only way I can sum up how love works.

  Hobbling down the corridor, held by my Willard, I take in the familiar sterile smell it provides, and I’m awash with a sensation of the walls widening, allowing more room for me to breathe. I hesitantly stepped foot in the Wellington Medical Centre in what now seems like a life time ago, and as I bounce my eyes from either side of its walls, I find myself admiring the painted pieces of plaster which cover its foundations. A realisation strikes me like a bolt of electricity permanently scarring a thick tree trunk. These walls have many stories to whisper and one of those stories is mine. It’s probably the most tormenting of them all because it’s the one that started at the beginning of my end. On the day I stepped into this corridor I was all but alone—rattled, frightened, and confused—but today I’m surrounded by the arms of unconditional love. Without these nine people beside me, I’m not sure I would’ve made it this far…I guess strength works best when it is divided and given to many. Now with every step I take, I know I’ll be held up by the hearts and determination of others. It’s a very comforting realisation.