lyricalechoes | When Worlds Collide

Mother said she wasn't good enough for me. But that's Mother for you, always snobby and fussy. I'm not sure she thinks anything in life is quite good enough for me. Mother switched me from one teacher to another at the drop of a hat, if anyone dared give a bad grade to her Daniel and any clothes I had that were bought ready-made were immediately altered by Mother's tailor. "Clothes should fit like they were made for you. Image matters, Daniel. Never forget that!"

Image matters. How many times did I hear Mother tell me that? And I listened. Image did matter to me when I first picked out Jenna. She was exactly the thin, skinny blond type Mother had always tried to get me to date. However, she just "didn't fit the whole picture," Mother told me, after she met Jenna for the first time.

I don't know what was the last straw: the fact that her family was "new money" or the fact that Jenna had never been to the symphony.

"Never, dear?" Mom had said, raising an eyebrow. "I assumed that, since your mother doesn't work, she at least supports the arts."

"The arts, yes, but not the kind you've ever heard of. Mom teaches art classes as a volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club downtown." Jenna smiled. "You should see their paintings. A few are even quite talented!"

"I'm sure they are," Mother said, pursing her lips and smiling a thin smile.

From the look in her eyes, I knew Jenna had just been mentally crossed off Mother's list of people who matter.

But I married her anyways, my golden girl with a heart to match her hair. Jenna cared about other people and their dreams more than she cared about image. She wanted to give to others and I wanted to be more like her, as more and more she gave herself to me.

Mom still refused to listen when I spoke of a wedding until I mentioned it would be sooner than we had planned.

"And why so soon, Daniel? You know I feel about that girl!" Mother sniffed, frowning at me.

"Remember how I said Jenna is giving, Mother? Well, guess what? In about eight months, she will be giving you your first grandchild."

It was the first time I had seen my mother speechless. I could see the emotions fighting across her face. She was horrified that we'd jumped the gun by getting pregnant by grandchildren?

Finally, she spoke.

"The wedding will be here. I'll contact Antonio and get started on the invitations. How about in two weeks?" The thought of a grandchild somehow turned Mother around. She still didn't love Jenna but the grandbaby would be another Green, another link in the family dynasty. And, for the baby's sake, Jenna would now be part of it too.

Our wedding was beautiful. Jenna and Mom fought about the details but, in the end, while Jenna and I danced our first dance by the pool, nothing else mattered.

Her belly pressed against me and I thought to myself, "Now, with my new family in my arms, now I am truly happy. Jenna is good enough, more than good enough for me. It can only get better from here."

It did. Seven months passed of planning and hoping. Jenna loved being a pregnant mom and I loved watching her body change as she swelled with my child. MY child. I was going to be a daddy! Everything had happened so fast and yet not fast enough. I couldn't wait to meet our son, Daniel Green IV, of course, just as Mother insisted.

Jenna said she didn't mind using my name as it was the male name she loved the most.

The day of his birth would be the best day of my life, I just knew it.

About a month before his due date, I was at yet another of Mother's post-symphony cocktail parties. Jenna was supposed to be there soon. We had driven separately. Jenna's mom had a little art show for her students that night and Jenna insisted on skipping the symphony to attend it.

"You know Mother will hate you for this, don't you?" I asked her, watching her pull a long, red Valentino gown over her blossoming, pregnant body.

"Really? More than she does now?" Jenna laughed. "Can you help me zip this? Mr. Daniel the Fourth is taking up lots of space these days."

I zipped her dress and smoothed her hair. "I don't care how much room he's taking. You're stunning just the way you are!"

"Stunning or stuffed? Which do you mean? Because I'm thinking stuffed is more like it. Stuffed like a red sausage!" Jenna stuck out her tongue at her reflection and slapped away my hand that was creeping to her butt. "Not now, Daniel. You're running late yourself, you know, and I just got this dress on!"

"I'd help you put it back on," I leered at her but she shooed me out the door.

"The quicker we go, the quicker we can return together. And THEN you can take it off." I think we kissed then. I hope we kissed then. You don't know how many times I have gone over these moments, trying to remember the feel of her lips, of her body. I wish I could touch her soft cheek just one more time.

Like I said, Mother and I were holding cocktails, waiting for Jenna. And waiting. And waiting.

My cell phone rang.

"Maybe that's your late wife. Do remind her it is rude to keep her mother-in-law waiting, eh?" Mother whispered, as I pressed the answer key on my phone.

"Hello, is this Daniel Green?" The man's voice was gruff and unfamiliar.

"Uh, yes. And this is?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, sir, but there has been an accident. Please come to Vanderbilt hospital immediately. Your wife is here and..." I handed the phone to Mother. I don't know what else he said.

I don't remember riding with Mother to the hospital. I don't know long we waited or what the waiting room looked like. All I remember is finally a nurse walked in and Mother was all over her.

"I demand to know what is going on with the baby. Is the baby OK? Do you realize that child is Daniel Green the IV, yes, THE Daniel Green. What is wrong with the baby? Why won't these incompetent workers tell me anything?" Mother looked like she was about to grab the nurse.

"My baby. My precious Jenna. Is Jenna OK? Please? Will she wake up soon? I don't remember if we hugged goodbye. Please! I have to know!" Jenna's mom was just in jeans but her approach was classier than Mother's. In spite of her black Valentino dress, she was acting like trash, yelling and threatening the poor nurse. I remember thinking that and wondering why I was thinking that. What did it matter? What did anything matter ... now?

Where was my little family?

"Shut up, Cathryn, let the nurse talk if she can. A baby's life is at stake!" Mother hissed through her teeth.

"The mother's too. Where is my daughter?" Tears rolled down Cathryn's face. Her hair was graying but she had Jenna's deep blue eyes. Jenna's eyes. Where was my Jenna?

"Let the nurse speak, I say. Is the baby going to come early?" Mother shoved Cathryn aside.

Cathryn stepped forward. "NO, tell me about my daughter. She matters, I tell you!"

The nurse tried, she really did, to gain some control over both mothers but they were screaming at her and at each other. Finally, the nurse had enough and yelled, "Quiet, if you do not stay silent, I will have security forcibly remove you!"

Mom blustered more, "Don't you know I am Mrs. Daniel Green, Jr.? I will talk to the head of this hospital and you will never, I repeat, NEVER, work here again."

The nurse didn't listen. She dropped on her heels beside me and said, "Mr. Green, I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do to save your wife."

Pandemonium broke out around me. The nurse kept looking in my eyes and holding my hand. Her hand was warm, I do remember that.

She said, "Your baby is still alive, and the OB is going to do a c-section to save the child. Would you come with me now to see your child born and say good-bye to Jenna."

Say goodbye? Wait. It's not time. I can't say goodbye. I won't say goodbye! I feel like I am screaming inside my head but somehow my feet keep following this calm nurse. She had to block Mother from following me and lock her own. I think Mother was actually swearing as we walked away from the door. I don't know. Nothing mattered anymore.

The nurse shoved papers in front of me and showed me where to sign. I'm not sure what the papers said. All I could think was, "Jenna is gone. Jenna is gone. I need Jenna." I hoped to kiss her one last time. Surely they would let me, right? Those soft, warm lips, so pink and inviting.

The nurse drew back a curtain and ... was it Jenna? It didn't really look very human at all. I could see her deep blue eyes but they didn't look at me, or at anything really. Her forehead was .. a crushed mess, with bits of white and gray chunks showing through. Her ...face, except for her eyes was ... gone. I could see bones and teeth and gums ... those perfect white teeth, mashed and bloody now.

No lips to kiss. I .. I grabbed her hand, her cold, cold hand with my ring still shining of her fourth finger. "Goodbye, my heart," my soul cried. She wouldn't see this. All those times she spoke of how she dreamed of her baby's birth and here it was, now, and she ... wasn't here. Part of her was but not the part that made her Jenna. Another nurse nudged for me to watch as the OB cut into her stomach. The first nurse grabbed and pulled, holding open what used to be my Jenna's belly. No blood gushed, only water, gallons of water, overflowing and wetting the stretcher Jenna was on, as the OB shoved his hands inside, moving them around.

They pulled him out, Jenna. A little boy. So tiny! I'd never seen a baby so small!

Two nurses hustled him off. I heard a small smack and a weak cry.

My son was alive! I hadn't begun to hope until I heard that small whimper. I was a father and a widower now, all at once. It was too much. Tears. I could feel them dripping off my face but I felt so very far away.

The nurses wheeled him off in a little bed. I started to follow but turned to ask the first nurse, "Do I need to call a funeral home?" My eyes overflowed again. I ... my Jenna. How could, how could she be gone?

"No, she will have to be seen by the Metro Coroner. They will contact you. Go with your son. There's nothing you can do for Jenna, now," she said.

I headed down the hall where they had taken my son. Our son. Oh, Jenna. You would have loved him so. He is blond like you. Tiny hands. Tiny feet. Your soft pink mouth. I bet he will have your smile.

I'll raise him as you had planned. Only in one detail have I changed those happy plans we made together, back when we still had our future ahead of us.

Our son isn't Daniel Green the Fourth, even though you said it was OK. No, I named our 3lb 6 oz miracle Jensen Green. Jensen in memory of his mother, Jenna. So now, whenever I speak his name, my voice always echoes of you.

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This is Open topic fiction loosely based on fact, an entry that intersects with the life of a nurse. Her side of that night is over at http://basric.livejournal.com/177546.html by Wednesday night. Her topic is: "Playing the odds"

These entries are our intersection entries for this week at
http://community.livejournal.com/therealljidol

Please vote for BOTH of us, if you feel we deserve it, so we can BOTH stay in the game. Thanks!

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