I slide over and place my ear onto his chest, hear life rushing from one chamber to the next. The strength and the sound of it startles me. How can I not hear it all the time? Across the room, across the house, even? How do I forget?
Sometimes, when Carli sees another mother cooing at her child, she feels badly for Tyler. While she is resigned to mothering him—at least on the surface—until she can get him back to his own mother, she certainly never coos at him.
Child Psychiatrist Jonathan Schwartz Ph.D., who—full disclosure—is also my husband, claims that the book’s predictability is perfect for young readers. Although my background is less illustrious, I have read said text an estimated thousand times more than Jonathan Schwartz Ph.D.
My arm aches from holding my cellphone to my ear with so many calls from her today. I lean into the armrest. I don’t tell her that I’m also tired, tired of worrying that she will die alone, without me, with only a stranger in a protective suit and an N95 facemask to comfort her.