“Enough?” he asks, and I nod. He brushes up against my side and peeks into bowl. “That doesn’t look like much dough,” he says.
“That’s what the yeast is for,” I reply and dump the packet into the mixture. “Once this is all blended together, the dough will begin to rise. It should take about an hour and then we’ll be able to make our pizza.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Our pizza?”
“I’m not putting all of this effort into something not to get anything out of it,” I say and bump my hip into his. What am I doing?
“Really?” he says and turns to wash his hands in the sink. “I guess that seems fair enough.”
“What do you want on top?” I ask.
“What?” he chokes out.
“Toppings? What do you want on top of your pizza?” Oh my God. My cheeks are burning as I stretch plastic wrap over the bowl.
“Oh.” He pauses. “I’m good with just cheese and sauce.”
“Me too,” I say. My hands are covered in flour, so I join him at the sink. “Can you leave the water on?”
“Sure,” he says, and I place my hands under the warm stream.
“Too hot?” he asks.
“No, it’s just right.”
He squeezes soap into my hands, and I rub them together, building up the lather and scrubbing off the flour that’s caked on. “Thanks,” I say. Our shoulders are touching. He remains next to me as I finish washing up. He turns off the water and places a towel over my wet hands, his strong grip patting and squeezing my hands dry. My knees are weak, and I swear his hands are the only thing keeping me upright at the moment.
“Dry?” he asks hoarsely. I look into his eyes and nod slowly. His hands remain wrapped around mine, but I don’t want to pull them away.
Suddenly Kai cries sharply from the den and I jump. Garrett drops the towel and we both rush in to calm him. Kai’s lying on his back, and his arms and legs are outstretched. His screams grab me in the chest and I lift him up. “It’s okay,” I whisper as his body tenses against mine. I rhythmically pat his back and bounce him in my arms.
“What can I do?” Garrett asks helplessly.
“Can you fix him a bottle?”
“Yes,” he says and takes off into the kitchen. Kai continues to wail and throws his head back violently.
“Hey. Shhh,” I whisper against his temple, kissing him gently. I begin to hum and cradle the back of his head, gently pushing him against my shoulder. Garrett is back within a few minutes and I sit down in the recliner.
“Here.” Garrett hands me the bottle and I shift Kai into a comfortable feeding position. As soon as I put the bottle to his lips, he takes it and begins to eat. But within seconds, he’s screaming and arching his back again. My heart is breaking for him, and Garrett kneels down on the floor beside us. His hand replaces mine on the back of Kai’s head, and he slowly massages his scalp.
Garrett looks like he’s being sliced in two by his son’s cries. His brows are furrowed and he’s stiff and tense. Worried. “Keep doing that,” I urge him. “I think that will help.” Kai’s cries slow to whimpers, and I let him calm some more before I offer the bottle again.
“How can he be so good some days and others like this?” Garrett asks softly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks into my eyes, hoping for answers.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I wish I knew.”
He nods and his hand drops to my knee. “He stopped,” he says.
I place the bottle against Kai’s lips and he begins eating, this time uninterrupted. Garrett exhales and so do I.
Garrett’s pain is tangible. I wish I could make it go away along with Kai’s pain. We’ll get there, eventually. I look down at Kai, who is now eating comfortably.
I remove the bottle and place Kai on my shoulder to burp him, which he quickly does. Garrett’s warm hand remains on my knee as I begin feeding Kai again. Garrett seems to notice his contact with me and slowly pulls his hand away. “Sorry,” he whispers and moves over to the couch. He sits there, helpless. Almost defeated.
“He’s getting better,” I encourage. “Today’s just been a really rough day. His senses seem overly heightened causing everything to bother him.”
Garrett nods slowly and I’m not sure he believes me.
Kai finishes his bottle and I’ve burped him one last time. He’s sound asleep, so I place him in his bouncy seat and strap him in. Garrett’s hand brushes mine as he covers Kai with the soft fleece blanket that was on the chair. I pull away and stand up.
“You okay?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I know you keep telling me that it’s going to get better. Easier. But every single time I see him like this I don’t believe you. His pain needs to end. He can’t continue to live like this.”
I grab hold of his hand and squeeze. “It will end. I promise.” His eyes glisten and he bows his head.
He lets go of my hand, and I follow him into the kitchen. I dim the lights so they don’t disturb Kai’s slumber.
“Time to make pizza,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says.
I turn on the oven and place the pizza stone inside. “Look,” I say, pointing to the dough in the bowl. “The yeast did its job.” The dough has expanded, almost tripled in size.
“You seem so calm, Sam. How are you not affected by what just happened in there?” he asks, his face pained.
“It’s not easy, but I know soon his pain will be a thing of the past. Every time I lay my hands on him or hold him against me, I know that I’m doing something to help his suffering.” I pause and his eyes lock onto mine, still searching for answers. “Every day is one more day that he doesn’t have drugs coursing through his veins. The pain becomes lessened over time, and as that happens, these episodes will also begin to diminish.”
He nods and I continue, “If you remember when he first came home, he would cry like that for hours on end. There were days that went by that I swear he cried for twenty-three out of twenty-four hours. Garrett, it was really bad.” I motion toward the den. “What just happened in there was a vast improvement. And it’s only the second time today. Progress.”
He exhales but still looks drawn and worried. I desperately want to comfort him, but I know I can’t. I’m his employee. Kai’s nurse.
“Now, let’s make pizza,” I say and remove the dough from the bowl.
“Thank you,” he says weakly and touches my cheek, dropping his hand to my shoulder. “I think I believe you.”
“You have to believe, Garrett. Otherwise, you have nothing.”
Light flickers in his eyes and he quickly turns away. “I’m starving,” he says.
“Then let’s do this,” I say as I begin to roll the dough out on the counter.
We prepare the pizza together in silence. I can tell he’s lost in thought and in pain. I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind every time he sees his little boy. I know I’ve gone through fits of anger when I watch Kai suffer. How can someone knowingly do this to a child? Sadie made terrible choices. Choices that Kai is now paying for.
“You look mad,” he says, breaking our silence. We’re both seated at the kitchen island, watching the pizza cook in the oven.
I sigh. “No, just thinking.”
“About?” he urges.
“I’m trying to understand what would make someone do this to a child. I think about it every time I hold and comfort Kai. He did nothing to deserve the pain that he’s living with every day. I do feel anger, but I also pity her.”
He clenches his fists and I tense, waiting for him to take a swing at something. He tries to regulate his breathing, and I know he’s doing everything to remain calm. “I don’t want to talk about her,” he says.
The oven timer goes off, and I jump to my feet. I grab two oven mitts and remove the stone, placing it on top of the stove. “This needs to cool off a little,” I say and turn to him.