Page 105 of Sacrifice
“I shouldn’t be here,” I say, batting tears back. I feel extremely guilty looking at gold balloons tied to everything that will stand still, creating a festive feeling in the park. Kids are laughing and running, and I have an iced tea in my free hand while my daughter is sick or sleeping. Fighting for her life either way.
I drop Crew’s hand and turn towards the harbor. I need space. I need air. I need to keep myself together.
The water is peaceful, rolling gently towards the shore. A couple and their two children are playing by the water. They seem like the perfect family, as the dad tosses a red football to his son and the mother and daughter hold hands and dip their toes in the water. They must get out too far for the husband’s liking because he stops and says something and they walk towards him laughing.
Pangs of jealousy hit me head-on.
Why can’t I have that? What did I do so wrong in my damn life that I can’t have even a bit of that?
Crew’s arms come around my waist, his front pressing against my back. He just holds me, rocking me gently back and forth. The connection helps me relax and the tears to scatter across my cheeks.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispers.
I nod but don’t say anything. I’m afraid to say anything out loud. Just when I start to believe it, something sets us back.
Crew’s phone rings and we both jump, my throat squeezing shut. I grab mine out of my pocket, afraid I’ve missed a call.
“It’s Sal. Let me take this, okay?”
Relief washes over me like the waves on the shore. He walks away and I turn back to see the family on the beach coming towards me. I wipe my eyes, trying to avoid looking like a complete mess.
The little boy rushes towards me, giggling.
“Ben, get back here,” his mother shouts. The father races forward and scoops him up, making him laugh harder.
“Hello,” the lady says as they approach.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay, Miss?” the little girl asks, her eyes full of concern. She’s slightly older than Everleigh, but not by much.
“Yes, I am. Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. Annie is at that stage where she hasn’t yet learned manners.” The man laughs, rolling up his sleeves. “We’re working on it.”
“No worries,” I say, smiling at Annie. “I have a daughter just about her age.”
“You do?” she asks, her eyes lighting up. “Is she here? Can I play with her?”
I smile sadly. “No, she isn’t. She’s in the hospital.” I look up to the woman, a confused look on her face. “I’m actually here for her benefit,” I say motioning behind me. “I probably should get back.”
I don’t know why I’m telling these strangers this. I’m rambling. I know it but can’t stop.
“What’s the matter with her?” Annie asks.
I don’t want to say something and scare the little girl. It’s not my place. The woman smiles, seeming to understand, and takes her hand and the boy’s. “I hope she’s okay. I’ll pray for her,” she says. She exchanges a look with her husband and leads the children away.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the matter with your daughter?” he asks, tucking his sunglasses in the front of his shirt.
“She has neuroblastoma.”
His face hardens, his eyebrows pulling together. “I’m sorry. Are you here alone? Do you need anything?”
I shake my head, feeling foolish. “No, no, I’m okay. My . . . Crew is right over there. We’ll be going back to the hospital soon.”
He glances at Crew. “Okay. We’ll be thinking of your family. Nice to meet you.”
I sit on the ground and watch the waves roll in. It just seems like yesterday when we would come to the beach and splash around happily. How times have changed.
