For Lucy

Choices.

Adults made thousands of choices every day. Some could be as simple as how far to fill a water glass. Others could be as serious as quitting a job. Few choices felt like they could have a profound impact on our lives. What possible chain of events could happen as a result of filling a glass three-fourths full instead of half full? Using six squares of toilet paper instead of four? Coffee vs tea? Red shirt vs blue shirt?

Could thirty seconds change your life forever?

Yes.

As I made my way from my truck to the tall white gate of our backyard, I had no idea how all the choices Tatum and I had made that day would change the course of our existence forever.

As I locked the gate latch behind me, I started toward the house with a huge smile on my face and a bouquet of flowers in my right hand.

A cloudless sky.

Almost ninety degrees.

The soft hum of lawns being mowed in the distance.

All the best things about summer.

I could envision the delight on Tatum’s face.

The squeal of Austin running to greet me.

The lightning-fast glance of Lucy giving me a two second greeting from behind her iPad.

The sun’s rays bounced along the glassy surface of our pool. For a split second I thought about our years of indecision. Pool? No pool? And I thought about the announcement we made to our family about it on the very day Tatum miscarried. The split second multiplied as did the ache in my chest. I hadn’t thought about the baby we’d lost in quite some time.

We healed. We moved on.

With my free hand, I rubbed my chest. The pain felt real, like my heart knew something I did not.

And it did.

My gaze snagged on the white and orange hardhat Austin had been wearing that morning. It floated in the water not far from the blue soccer ball that I’d tossed onto the deck that morning.

Then …

My. World. Shattered.

“AUSTIN!” I didn’t take the time to unlock the gate. I jumped the pool fence and dove into the water to rescue my little boy—my mini me—from the bottom. “Austin! TATUM!” I gasped and cried for help as I pulled him to the edge and out of the water. “TATUM!” I yelled again while starting compressions. I didn’t count. I just pumped his chest over and over. My mouth covered his mouth. He was so fucking cold. Tiny broken pieces of my heart ripped me apart inside as I tried to breathe life into his limp body.

“Breathe …” I cried, compressing his chest over and over. “TATUM! Somebody! Call for help! PLEASE!”

Nobody called for help.

Nobody answered my desperate pleas.

It was just me and my lifeless world.

I compressed with one hand while I searched for my phone in my pockets that were wet and tight like goddamn suction cups as I tried to retrieve it.

“Dad? DADDY!”

I glanced up at Lucy on the deck, looking on in complete horror and shock.

“CALL 9-1-1! G-GO!” My words faltered as the growing reality of the situation came to rest in the wreckage of my heart, completely crushing my lungs. Every time I bent forward to breathe into Austin’s mouth, I could barely find a breath to give him. “Breathe … buddy … p-please … b-breathe …”

I knew. I just … knew.

Time lost its place in my life because I swear my heart stopped. It paused. It refused to beat without Austin’s beating too. Like all the times he yelled for me, “Daddy, I’m coming! Daddy, wait up!” I waited.

I waited for him to breathe, so we could breathe together.

I waited for his heart to beat, so ours could beat together.

“I’ll … wait … for … you …”

One two three four … fifteen sixteen seventeen …

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths …

My eyes squeezed shut, and I went through the motions. I swear to God I heard his voice.

Daddy, it’s okay.

It wasn’t okay. Why was he saying it was okay?

At some point the paramedics arrived and pulled me away from him.

They asked me questions.

I don’t know if I answered them because I couldn’t hear my own voice past the thundering of my heart. It was then that I realized it was beating again, and for a moment I had hope again, hope that it meant his was beating again too. I followed them toward the driveway as they worked in unison to save him.

“Dad …” A small hand grabbed my arm.

I glanced down at Lucy and her teary eyes and quivering lip. “I’m sorry.”

Oh my fucking hell, I thought. What was happening to my life? It wasn’t real. It was supposed to be the best Friday ever. I was supposed to be mowing the lawn with Mr. Giggles helping me steer, my nose in his hair, inhaling his berry scented shampoo mixed with a little dirt and every snack he ate that day.