Page 18 of Sacrifice
I place Ever on the couch, and she snuggles into the pillows, not stirring while I tuck the blanket Olivia grabbed from the closet around her.
I kiss her forehead and stand back up, looking into the hazel eyes of my neighbor. She wipes a hand through her brown hair and smiles hesitantly at me, clearly concerned.
“Want a cup of coffee, sweetheart?”
My stomach recoils, threatening to expel the cereal I had for breakfast, the only thing I’ve eaten today.
“Not really.”
She gives me a motherly look and I know I’m going to get a cup anyway. She’s not going to let me out of here without talking. I know she’s worried about what the doctor said because Ever is like a grandchild to Olivia. They bonded on our first day in the neighborhood. She showed up with a basket of cleaning supplies and asked how she could help. I told her we’d be fine. She smiled, talked with Ever for a while, and then started helping me unpack. She’s been around every day since.
“I just . . .” My voice trails off as I watch my beautiful daughter sleeping peacefully. I don’t know what to say and I certainly don’t want to voice my deepest fears in front of Everleigh.
She crooks her finger for me to follow and as we enter the kitchen, she pours me a cup of coffee. “I want to know what the doctor said.”
I try to take a sip, but I can’t get anything past the lump in my throat. My hands shake. Olivia watches me closely before taking the cup and placing it back on the counter.
“They said they aren’t really sure what’s going on with her. There’s a small lump in her belly, where she’s been complaining about it hurting. They said it could be nothing and that I shouldn’t worry about it just yet, but we have to go back in the morning for some tests.”
“What are they looking for?”
“I’m not sure, really. They just said to take her to the Children’s Hospital tomorrow morning. They named off a slew of things but then said it could be nothing, too.” I sniffle and fight back the fear that’s threatening to take over. “I’m so scared, Olivia. What if they find something? What if something is really wrong with her? What if—”
She pulls me in for a hug, holding me to her tightly for a long time. The warmth of her arms, the feeling of her caring about us, relieves me just a bit.
The rain is pounding on the windows and the sky is getting dark. I pull back and look at her crinkled face.
“I know it’s hard, but try not to make yourself sick over this,” she says, pulling away.
“I’m trying. But you know how it is . . .” The mere thought of something happening to my little girl is more than I can take. I know they said not to worry, and I know it’s probably nothing, but I can’tnotworry.
“I do. When my son was born, they thought something was wrong with him. Scariest time of my life, bar none. But look at him now. He’s a healthy man with a beautiful wife and daughter. Things aren’t always as bad as they seem, Julia.”
“I hope not. She’s all I have.”
Olivia gives me a sad smile and instead of making me feel better, I feel worse.
“How did Ever react?” she asks.
“She doesn’t really know anything. She knows she’s not feeling good and we’re going to have more tests. She just thinks she has the flu or something, I think. No sense in worrying her.”
“Smart. I think we just keep her in the dark for as long as possible. I’m still betting it’s nothing. You’ve had your share of grief. Surely you wouldn’t be given something else to fight through. That just wouldn’t be fair.”
“No kidding,” I sigh. “I need to go get ready. I missed a half a day at the office today and I’ll miss all day tomorrow. I’m going to need these shifts at Ficht’s. I’ll pick her up when I get off.”
I give Olivia a smile and make my way to the door. I stop by the sofa and press my lips against Everleigh’s forehead. My lips linger against her skin and I say a silent prayer.
Dear God, I need you to fix this. She’s my baby girl. I’m so scared.
Just . . . fix this, please.
SEVEN
JULIA
“I shouldn’t have asked Uncle Crew for crayons.” Ever’s voice is a little more than a whisper and I bend even closer to her to hear it. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands pressing against the hospital gown that’s way too big for her tiny frame.
I brush a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Why’s that, baby girl?”
