“Stop,” I say, and she looks confused. “I don’t think I can hear any more of this.”

“Mr. Armstrong, you have to hear it. Because you’re about to live it.”

She tells me all about his feeding and other issues that he has. His high-pitched crying is mentioned again, and I don’t understand why this is so important that both she and Peggy have mentioned it multiple times. She explains that the best care for him right now is tactile care. We need to be very hands-on and let him know that someone is always close. Swaddling him tight is also important so he feels safe. What’s swaddling?

When Peggy talked me into this situation, I didn’t expect that I’d need to be hands-on. Why did I hire Sam to begin with if she’s going to expect me to be involved?

“I think there’s some mistake,” I interrupt her again, and she shoots me the same disgusted look she did just minutes ago.

“I’m sorry?” she asks.

“When I agreed to do this, Peggy assured me that you would have everything under control. I wasn’t expecting to be too involved.”

I’m glad I got that off my chest. I hope this clears the air.

She stands up and walks toward me. “Are you kidding me?” She scowls and now I can see the resemblance to Peggy. She smirks and says, “Let me get this straight. You thought that Peggy agreed to let me do everything while you ignored the fact that you have a son upstairs who needs his father?” Her arms are folded across her chest.

“Well, the way you say it makes me sound like an ass. But yeah, I didn’t expect that I’d be involved in Kai’s rehabilitation. I just found out about him the other day. I’m no more of a father than you are a mother.”

Wow, now I sound like a complete asshole.

Her face contorts and her cheeks turn bright red. “Mr. Armstrong, I swear to God, you’re lucky that I love my aunt more than life itself because—”

A piercing scream comes from behind her, and she turns quickly to grab what looks like a walkie-talkie from the couch. She turns the volume down, but the screams are high-pitched, sharp and shallow.

“What the hell is that?” I ask as dread sets in.

“That’s your son, Kai.” She opens the library door and darts up the stairs.

I remain glued to my seat as his cries travel down the stairs and pierce through my heart. He sounds like he’s in so much pain, like he’s being stabbed over and over again. It’s the most awful sound I’ve ever heard. Worse than hearing my own mother cry.

My son is crying and I’m powerless.

Sam

Past

Villanova, Pennsylvania

Age 15

“SAM, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Cassie’s voice rattles through my head as I pull the phone away from my ear.

“My Dad is going to take me to the party after dinner.” I pause and wonder what the important discussion they need to have with me is all about. When I got home from school today, there was a note on the board from my mother.

Don’t go anywhere tonight until your father and I

have had the chance to talk to you.

No worries – it’s all good! See you for dinner!

X’s & O’s

~ Mom~

“What time will you be done?” she whines, and I know she’s excited about tonight. Brad Mitchell is going to be there and Cassie has a huge crush on him. “What are you wearing?”

“Dinner should be ready in about five minutes, and I’m wearing a bathing suit, you dope. It’s a pool party.” I shake my head as I hold up the striped bikini that my mother says reminds her of some chewing gum she loved when she was younger. Fruit Stripes, I think.

“What are you wearing over your bathing suit? I need help accessorizing! Ugh!” She’s frantic, and I know what my closet would look like if she were actually here getting ready with me.

“My white pullover and platform Steve Maddens.”

“No! Absolutely not! The last time you wore those shoes, you wound up falling flat on your face in the mall. I cannot let you take your life into your hands like this. Please just wear flip-flops, or better yet, sneakers. You’re a klutz, Sam.”

I giggle and dismiss her worry. “Just stop. You know I only wear sneakers for gym.”

“It’s your funeral, sister. Now hurry up and eat and I’ll meet you there by eight!” She hangs up and I rush to get dressed. After putting on my bikini, I slip the white cover-up-dress over my head. It falls about mid-thigh, and once I step into my Steve Maddens, I’m almost as tall as my father. I arrange my curls to cascade around my face and grab my Chapstick. It drives Cassie nuts that I never wear makeup. I usually only use Chapstick and sometimes mascara for a special occasion.

“Sam, dinner’s ready!” Mom calls from the bottom of the stairs. I start to move toward the door when I slip and almost turn my ankle. I chuckle out loud and slide out of my shoes, bending down to swipe them from the floor.

“I think I’ll carry you guys downstairs instead of walking, okay?” I say out loud to my favorite shoes.

By the time I reach the kitchen table, my parents are already seated and have our meals dished out. It’s my favorite. My father’s ‘special’ chicken, steamed veggies and fresh berries. My parents have always insisted on a colorful plate full of food, no matter what meal it is. He’s been making this chicken for me ever since I was a little girl. I’ve always called it Daddy’s Special Chicken when I know that it’s really just breaded chicken cutlet. He loves making it for me, and I ate it practically every night for dinner for several years. I will never tire of it.

“Wow, dinner smells great,” I say and slide into my chair.

Mom and Dad have smiles ear-to-ear and I can’t imagine what has them so excited tonight.

“Okay, you guys look weird. What’s going on?” I ask as I cut into the first piece of chicken and chew it. It’s so good. It begins to melt in my mouth, and I savor the flavor from the breadcrumbs. “Can you pass the barbecue sauce?” Another one of my favorites.

My mother slides it across the table, and she drops her fork next to her plate.

“Your father and I have some really exciting news,” she says and can’t contain herself.

I look back and forth between them and my father’s eyes light up even brighter.

“You do?” I ask. “Don’t leave me hanging! What is it?”

Mom takes a deep breath and her eyes glisten a little.

“We haven’t said anything at all because at first, we weren’t sure. But it happened, and now we’re thrilled and we just can’t believe it!” She’s all over the place, and I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“What happened?” I ask and dunk a piece of chicken into the barbecue sauce and pop it in my mouth.

“Sam, we’re going to have a baby,” my father interrupts, and I practically choke.

“What?” I ask as I gulp down my chicken.

“Yes! I’m pregnant,” my mother exclaims, and I stare between the two of them and wonder how this is even possible.

“A few years after you were born, we tried for another and were told that I couldn’t have any more children. The doctors did everything they could, and we even went through fertility treatments. Nothing worked, so we decided we were happy with the family we had.”

I never realized any of this, and I suddenly feel sorry for my parents for what they went through when I was little.

“So about two months ago, I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t think anything of it. I thought it was the flu or something like that.”

I remember her being sick for a few weeks and she was constantly in the bathroom throwing up. I was thankful for not catching it. Now I know why I didn’t.