For Lucy

My ears rang. I could barely hear. Was I alive? It had to be a nightmare.

Wake the fuck up!

Lucy had watched. What must she have been thinking? Could her twelve-year-old brain process all that just happened?

“Luce …” I squatted, holding her arms, putting us face-to-face. “Mom. Where is your mom?”

“I’m s-so s-sorry …” More tears filled her eyes. “Will h-he be o-kay?”

“Lucy. Look at me?” I wiped her tears. “I need you to tell me where your mom is at?”

“S-she ran an e-erand. S-she said I … I could w-watch Austin. F-for just a l-little bit. But Anna FaceTimed m-me. A-and I told him to w-watch a show and stay on the c-couch.” She sobbed. “Is he o-okay? I’m s-scared.”

I hugged her to me, cupping the back of her head.

“MY BABY!” Tatum’s shrill cry cut like a jagged knife through the air. “NOOO!”

I released Lucy and ran out the gate.

“NOOO!” Tatum’s arms reached for Austin as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.

Before I could grab her, she climbed in the back. One of the paramedics tried to stop her for a brief moment.

“I’m his mother!” She cried more and the lady nodded, guiding her to the bench to sit while they continued CPR.

The doors closed.

The ambulance disappeared down the street crowded with police cars and a fire engine.

“Dad …”

I turned and grabbed Lucy’s hand. “Let’s go. We have to get to the hospital.”

“Is he okay?”

With no time to waste, I hoisted her into the passenger’s seat of my truck. I couldn’t answer her because … I knew.

“She said it was only for an hour. She would be back in an hour. I told him. I told him to watch his show and stay on the couch. He knows he’s not supposed to try to climb the pool fence.”

As I raced toward the hospital, clothes soaked, mind numb, I rested my hand on Lucy’s leg, and I kept saying, “I know. It’s okay, Lucy.”

Every time she said something, even when it didn’t really register what she was saying, I repeated, “I know. It’s okay, Lucy.”

But it wasn’t okay.

Things would never be okay again.

The world would continue to turn, but it would always feel not quite right. Like amputating a part of your body. You can live, but not the same way.

When we pulled into the parking lot at the hospital, I messaged our parents. Had I called them, I would have lost it in front of Lucy. For her, I had to keep it together as long as possible.

Austin fell into the pool. He’s in the ER.

I pressed send and turned off my phone.

“Lucy.” Before I could say another word, my emotions robbed my ability to speak. My ability to breathe. It was nearly ninety degrees outside, yet I couldn’t stop shivering. I swallowed several times and blinked to keep my tears in check despite how badly they burned my eyes. That lump in my throat swelled to something so unimaginably hard and big, I felt like someone was strangling me. I couldn’t get a single word past it.

That was what realizing you have no control in the world felt like.

“He’ll be fine, Dad. I prayed.”

I fisted my shaking hands and nodded several times before opening the door. When we reached the emergency room, I asked to see Austin Riley.

The nurse smiled politely at me and then at Lucy. “Do you have other family here?”

“My wife.”

With a wavering smile, she nodded. “Besides her?”

“My parents are on their way. Can I just see my son and wife?”

“Of course. Would your daughter like to wait with me until your parents arrive?”

“No, Dad. I want to see Austin too.”

With a single look, the nurse confirmed what I already knew in the newly carved hole in my soul.

“Luce, the room is probably small, and there could be lots of doctors and nurses. Let me go check on him first, and I’ll be right back to get you.”

She frowned but nodded.

My feet dragged like cinder blocks. My pulse felt sluggish yet angry, like my heart was upset that it had to keep doing its job. The parts of me that didn’t hurt felt hollow. I was a toxic mix of pain and nothingness.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” another nurse said as she left the tiny area behind the curtain, leaving me alone with Austin and Tatum draped over him sobbing—asking why?

As sure as I knew before they took him away that he would never open his eyes again, I also knew Tatum’s question would forever go unanswered. Death held no accountability. We were slaves to its will. It was part of the deal in the game of life. We knew this when we decided to bring new life into this world.

There were no guarantees.

I sat on the edge of the bed and rested my hand over Austin’s cold little hand. My other hand pressed to Tatum’s back, rising and falling with each gut-wrenching sob. There was nothing to say, just emotions to be felt. A million questions with no answers that would ever make sense. Before facing Lucy and the rest of our family with the heartbreaking news, I let myself have that moment with my wife and our son—his body absent a soul and everything that made him ours.