Swap Out (39 page)

“His pain meds are probably starting to wear off,” Scott offers, and I growl as quietly as possible as the waves keep coming faster, harsher.

“Luca, how you doing, honey?” Allie asks, and I barely manage to shake my head.

“Not good,” I whisper, ashamed, then hear Scott chuckle.

“No shit, dude, you almost died. And does this mean I get to eat your tacos?”

“It’s not funny, Scott,” Zoe snaps from directly beside me, then shifts and presses a kiss to my temple. But then her weight and warmth leaves the bed. I reach for her, and her hand covers mine and squeezes tight. I squeeze it back, but can’t bring myself to open my eyes.

“One to ten, how’s the pain?” Allie asks, and I take a deep breath.

“Um, five.”

“That means
twelve
,” Zoe corrects, and I take another deep breath when I feel her nails run through my hair. “He never complains enough.”

“Please tell me someone recorded her saying that,” I muster out, then grit my teeth through another bout of throbbing torment.

“All right, Luca, I’m going to give you some morphine in your IV and this should make you more comfortable real fast.”

I nod.

Please, let her be fucking quick about it.

“He only needs half that morphine dosage,” I hear Scott say, his voice all garbled like he’s chewing, and I’d destroy him for saying that if I could. What kind of friend is he? “I’ve administered it to him before and believe me, you don’t want to give him all of it while he’s still capable of talking. Unless you want to wait ten minutes and hear him sing ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ in Klingon and try to convince us that bacon is the square root of purple.”

Allie chuckles. “Really?”

“Absolutely. He has zero tolerance for pain meds because he never takes them.
Half
.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a clog dancer and knows nothing about medicine.”

“Okay, Luca,” Allie tells me, but a slice of agony mutes her voice a little like it’s coming from behind a wall. “I’m only going to give you half of this for now but if you need the rest, just let me or another nurse know, okay?”

I nod, then three seconds later fuzzy wonderfulness seeps through my veins and everything is a thousand times better than before.
Fuck
, I love morphine.

“Okay, that ought to do it for now,” Allie whispers, and I hear Zoe quietly thank her before the door shuts.

“How do you feel?” Zoe asks softly, the worry clear in her voice, and I exhale.

“Tired, gross, a little loopy and really guilty.” I open my eyes to look up at her, and I can’t help but notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way it looks like she hasn’t had a moment to herself in weeks. “I’m sorry I’m in here,” I tell her. “I was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you were,” she says, but at least her voice is a little teasing. “But it’s okay, kind of working out in my favor.”

“Lucky for you he’s always stupid,” Scott chimes in.

“Leave him alone or I’m going to get Allie to ban you from the room,” Zoe threatens.

“Good luck with that, she loves me,” Scott says. “Says I look just like her nephew that goes to Cornell.”

“For Christ’s sake…” Zoe mutters.

“You don’t have to stay here, Zoe. I know you have work to do.”

“Actually,” she says, “Hailey is managing everything for me. She’s thrilled, and doing a hell of a job. But then again she’s so worried about you that she’s scared to tell me anything’s wrong, so the warehouse could have burned down for all I know.”

My eyebrow arches. “And you’re okay with her doing that?”

“Yep. That’s what insurance is for,” she says with a wink, and my brow furrows.

“She bring in her own people to haul the furniture?”

“Um, Scott said he would help out in the meantime, since you’re going to be out of commission for a while.”

“You’re welcome.
Again
,” Scott says. “And I’ll let you know when I figure out how you’re going to repay me.”

I groan, finding Zoe’s hand and lacing my fingers through hers. “
God
, I’m sorry. Are you sure there’s no one else that can temporarily replace me?”

“Hey!”

“Luca,” she breathes, her smile brightening. “
Stop
. The only thing that matters is you’re alive, and you’re awake, and you’re
you
. And you will stay that way as long as you promise me that you are
never
free soloing again. Climbing is fine, but you have to use ropes or there will be consequences like you can’t imagine.”

“Now wait a minute…” Scott interjects. “You may get to boss us around when it comes to couches and bed frames, but—”

“Done,” I tell her, my eyes closing.

“Good, now just go to sleep,” Zoe says soothingly. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Except brain damage and a shattered ankle and broken ribs—”

“
Scott
.”

“I’m eating all your tacos by the way…” he taunts, and I ignore him.

“Zoe,” I slur, and her nails thread through my hair.

“What’s wrong? Do you still hurt? Do you want the nurse to come back and give you the rest of it?”

I shake my head.

“Then what do you need?”

I stay quiet, then open my eyes and look up at her, taking in how beautiful she is and how much I want this to be real. I run my knuckles down her arm and she smiles, tilting her head at me.

“Okay,” Scott drawls with a sigh, then gets up. “You two are boring so I’m going to go make scary faces at the newborn babies. Call me if anyone does anything news worthy.”

The door shuts softly behind him, and Zoe asks, “You want your IDs?”

I nod.

But when she moves to drape the chain around me, I stop her.

Instead I take it from her hands, attempting to unhook the clasp, but unfortunately I find that I can’t get it undone with only my left arm. I sigh, frustrated, and she blushes and helps me unhook it. And when I jerk my chin at her, she turns an even deeper shade of red and slips the ring off the chain.

She hands it to me, looking like she’s about to die of embarrassment while re-closing the fastening, and I roll my eyes as I lean forward just enough so she can put my dog tags back on me, trying to retain the thin shred of dignity I have left.

“Yeah, that so did not work the way I wanted it to,” I grumble, the metal IDs finding their place in the center of my chest when I lay back down.

She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s okay to ask for help sometimes.”

“Not when you’re trying to be smooth and romantic.”

She smiles and adjusts my dog tags a bit, a sweet little hum escaping her.

“Better?” she asks, and the corner of my mouth turns up.

I take her left hand and lay it on my chest, directly over my heart, and with my eyes locked on hers, I slide the ring on her finger.

It fits perfectly and as her eyes sparkle and cheeks flush, I slip my fingers through hers, feeling the cool gold of the band as it presses into my skin like a promise.

“Now I’m better.”

I finish pulling on my suit then roll out my shoulders, testing my arms and legs before taking a deep breath. It’s been nearly two and a half years since the accident and I still can’t always trust my body to be as ready as I am. I’m getting there, but it’s been a long and painful road. Couple surgeries, a fair bit of physical therapy, some acceptance of the fact that I am now brandishing a few more scars than I used to. But then again, I have a lot of things now I didn’t have before.

I head into the adjacent room to find Zoe sitting in a chair, her legs crossed and hair twisted up, but the most beautiful thing about her is her smile. She’s beaming as she lightly rocks from side to side, our daughter’s palm resting against Zoe’s neck while she hums some lullaby I had never heard before the first time she sang it. Now, it’s the movement of clouds and the pitch on a splitter hand crack, the rhythm of my walk and the beat of my heart.

“She asleep?” I whisper, and Zoe looks up at me with that same gorgeous smile as I walk over to her. She looks back to our girl and raises her right hand, her fingers spread wide as she taps her thumb twice to her forehead.

Evelyn sits up immediately, her face turned towards me in a huge beaming grin before she repeats the sign for “Daddy” and hops down off Zoe’s lap. I kneel down and make the sign for her name: the letter “E” brought up to my mouth before I kiss the back of my hand and push it forward in the symbol for “favorite,” and just in time to catch her as she hugs me, my hand covering the entire expanse of her tiny back.

Before we ever left the hospital with her, we got the news: she had failed her newborn auditory tests, and has congenital hearing loss. The how much and why didn’t come until later. But after numerous tests and sitting down with endless doctors, going over in detail every sniffle and pill of Zoe’s pregnancy and ruling that out, the eventual genetic testing revealed the cause was autosomal recessive
,
meaning both Zoe and I apparently carry a recessive gene which gave Evie a 25% probability of being born deaf.

Neither of us knew this was ever a possibility since I have no family medical history to go on, and apparently it’s possible that the women in Zoe’s family were carrying the gene but she wasn’t aware, seeing as she has no knowledge of any family members being deaf. But in the end I didn’t really care what the cause was, there were only two things that were important to me.

One: that Zoe was accepting of the fact that this wasn’t her fault, no one was being punished for past sins or any of the stuff I was terrified was going through her mind. Two: that Evie was otherwise perfectly healthy and happy.

She’s my baby girl and I love her more than anything, and the only person who loves her more than me is Zoe.

She’s never spoken a word that wasn’t adamantly determined that this is a blessing. She says she’s not sure how it’s going to happen, what it’s going to translate into, but she
knows
and
believes
with everything in her that there is a reason our daughter can’t hear and it’s a miracle in and of itself. I don’t know if I’ve ever loved her more than the first time she told me that.

And yeah, at first the whole thing was just…hard. Knowing your daughter will never hear your voice, never hear the waves of the ocean crash or rain fall on the roof…she’ll probably never say my name. Not with a 98% hearing loss because with auditory goes vocal. So, yes, there were days that we cried. And that’s nothing I’m ashamed of. But what mattered was that once I dried Zoe’s tears, we took the next steps forward.

Meeting with specialists to discuss options, researching and calling everyone we could and doing our best to be informed so we could make the right decisions for Evelyn. Figuring out whether or not to go for a cochlear implant; starting with American Sign Language, or opting to use Signing Exact English instead. There’s a world of opinions out there, but Zoe and I agreed that when it came to our girl, the only ones that matter are ours.

So we skipped the implant so Evelyn can decide for herself when she gets older whether or not she wants it. We’re using ASL for now, even though the syntax and grammar rules took a while for me and Zoe to adapt to because it really is a whole other language, and we’ll integrate S.E.E. once Evie gets closer to school age so it’ll buffer her reading and English writing level. Plus, with using ASL, she can more easily communicate with some of the friends we’ve made in our local Deaf community since it’s been around longer and that’s what they all use.

Zoe and I both attend classes on signing—with Evie, and individually—and we’ve been doing it since she was a few months old. Scott actually goes with me once a week.

I also never went back to work.

We talked about it, and we weren’t comfortable with anyone else being her primary source of care for up to sixty hours a week. Evelyn’s just like her mom and she’s smart as hell, and kids pick up signing faster than speaking so really we can converse more than most parents can at this age. But she gets extremely frustrated when she can’t communicate, especially with the hearing. I don’t blame her. Poor kid, got my temper along with my love for spicy food.

But she’s
awesome
and we play all day long, learning and signing and sneaking up on each other. She loves the outdoors as much as I do and she rides on my bike with me, giggling at the feeling of the wind in her face. I think Zoe was afraid to admit that Evie may have a slight genetic predisposition to being an adrenaline junkie, but she couldn’t deny it forever and actually condoned me and Scott lying about Evelyn’s age so we could get her in an indoor wind tunnel a year early so she could experience what it’s like to free fall, and it was the best day. The absolute best day because my girl was born to fly, and she’s been asking to go back every day since.

She’s my little rock star.

“She didn’t want to take a nap because she was waiting for you,” Zoe says while signing the same, her words falling off into pure adoration as I smooth my palm back over Evelyn’s hair.

I am many things: death taunter, shelves-for-stuffed-animals-builder and dinner cooker, but mostly, my daughter’s preferred brand of pillow.

I lean back and look down at Evelyn, but before I can ask if she’s tired, she giggles before signing,
“Your clothes are funny.”

“My clothes?”
I sign back, making an incredulous face.
“What about Mommy’s clothes? They look funny, too.”

Zoe snorts. “Thanks a lot, Luca.”

“No,”
Evelyn signs, her face serious before she smiles wistfully.
“Mommy is beautiful.”

I chuckle then look up at Zoe, saying and signing, “You’re right. Mommy is beautiful.”

“Does Scott have our rings?” Zoe asks and I nod, feeling Evie place her hands on my neck because she loves to feel the vibration of my voice. She tickles her fingers purposefully on my throat, and I cover her hands with mine and begin humming the same song Zoe was singing when I walked in. But I pause when I realize Zoe’s just watching me, a smile pulling at her lips.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says with a quiet laugh. “Just…there are daddy’s girls, and then there’s Evie.”

“That’s only because I don’t put those ridiculous bow things on her head,” I whisper playfully, but a little smug all the same. I look down at Evie and wrinkle my nose as I sign,
“You like bows in your hair?”

“Yes,”
she signs, her head nod slow and assertive.

Zoe gets up and walks over to us, crouching down at our side so Evie can see her hands.
“See, Daddy?”
she signs to me, winking at Evelyn. “
Those bows are pretty. You just don’t understand.”

I look down at Evie.
“Bows? Or Flying?”

“Flying!”

“Oh my God,” Zoe mutters, standing up and shaking her head as she goes to collect her purse and Evelyn’s bag. “Don’t remind me how you’ve already got her hooked into that insanity. Like you weren’t bad enough.”

“Mommy’s grumpy,”
I sign teasingly, then kiss my baby girl before standing up.

I quietly make my way towards Zoe, my hands resting on her shoulders as I press a kiss into her hair. And when her body relaxes, I slide my palms down until my fingers lace with hers, wrapping our arms around her and soaking up the feeling of her leaning back into my chest. It’s hard on her having to work as much as she does, and she still loves staging and decorating, but I know she wishes she got to spend as much time with Evelyn as I do and it’s a bit of a sore spot.

“Zoe,” I say softly, resting my cheek to hers, “when she wakes up in the middle of the night she doesn’t want me. She wants
you
and you know it. I’m just a big handsome toy.”

She laughs and turns in my arms, lips pouted innocently. “Well, you are
kinda
handsome,” she drawls with a shrug, and when I chuckle she gives me one too-short kiss and then heads outside to where Scott is waiting. I follow behind her, scooping up Evie on my way and propping her on my hip.

“Hey!” he bursts out as soon as he sees us, wearing a grin as wide as his outstretched arms before signing as he says, “ready to take the plunge, Zoe?”

“Do I have a choice?” she deadpans, and he tilts his head.

“No, not at all.”

“Here, take this and don’t drop it,” I say and hand him Evelyn, and once he safely has her, Zoe smacks my shoulder. “It was a joke!” I wink at my daughter, signing, “He dropped her once before and she was fine…”

“Uncle Crash!”
Evie signs, and I snort.

“Luca!” Zoe hisses, and I wince.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I rush out, taking Zoe’s hands and making sure she looks me in the eyes.

Scott clears his throat, saying, “Evie, let’s go see what’s over here…”

“She is perfectly safe,” I remind Zoe and her gaze narrows. “Scott is going to take care of her and you will see her in like twenty, twenty-five minutes tops.”

“But—”

“Not ‘buts,’ Zoe, you promised me you would do this. And if you back out then I’m gonna tell her how her mommy is nothing more than a—”

“Okay!” she snaps, then sighs. She looks over at Evelyn, then walks over to her with a petulant sway to her hips and drops a kiss to her hair. She signs something I don’t see, but it’s not really for me to know anyway.

I make my way over to my girls and do the same, and when I level a look at Scott, he rolls his eyes as he holds her a little more securely. He’s never dropped her, not even close, but she’s my little girl and…yeah.

Death. Slow and painful.

“Just go,” he drawls, trying to sign with one hand as he holds Evelyn, not even flinching when she lays her palm on his throat to feel his voice. She says mine is bigger and after I finally stopped laughing the first time she told me that, I couldn’t agree more. “Evie and I have some catching up to do. Since
someone,”
he says pointedly to Zoe, “is greedy with her daughter and never lets her hang with her favorite uncle.”

“Uncle Crash!”
Evie signs excitedly, and I turn away to hide my snicker.

“Scott,” Zoe growls, “I swear on the grave I will put you under—”

“Don’t get her all riled up!” I chide, steering Zoe away and blowing a kiss to Evelyn. Zoe peeks over her shoulder three times and has damn near chewed off her entire thumbnail by the time we’re a good fifteen feet away, and I squeeze her waist, whispering, “What is with you?”

“Just nervous,” she mumbles, and I scoff.

“You weren’t this nervous when we got married.”

“That’s different,” she says as I stop us in the hanger and grab her rig, having her step into the harness until I can hook it onto her shoulders and buckle it. “
You
I trust, this is a plane and a parachute.”

“A parachute I personally packed,” I remind her.

“Whatever. And you don’t even remember our wedding! You were so doped on painkillers I think you were mentally at the circus and just waiting for them to invite you onto the trapeze.”

I chuckle as I check her straps and the position of her rip cord, because she’s not far off. The day they released me from the hospital I could barely breathe for the pain, but they handed over a whole bunch of pills and said to check in with a physical therapist in a few days. I took that as the okay for me and Zoe to drive to Vegas and get married. That way we could hole up in a hotel on the Strip for a week since neither of us were really in any condition to fly somewhere for our honeymoon. We didn’t even get our license until we got back, but backwards and messy is kinda our style.

The whole thing is a blur of wrangling my wild and rowdy group of military buddies who were all weirdly cool about flying in with practically no notice, until they realized I was putting them to work by making them set up chairs and tables and haul in kegs to the middle of the desert. Zoe was frantic Tori wouldn’t get there in time and that she would leave once she
did
arrive since apart from a few girlfriends and one wife, she was the only other female in a twenty mile radius. And when Scott also hadn’t arrived by the time we were supposed to start, we soon figured out why. Because he decided to tandem with Tori into the ceremony he was officiating, while dressed as Elvis. I’m surprised he lived through the event because Zoe was ready to kill him.