Blake Pierce - If She Heard

Her vision was hazy at best when the doctor placed her son on her chest. She cradled him in her arms and started to cry. She hated the word miracle , as it was tossed around far too often. But feeling the warmth of her baby in her arms, held against her nearly sixty-year-old body, she supposed that’s what this was…a miracle.

It was a nice thought to hang on to as exhaustion swept over her and her vision went from hazy to a complete and perfect field of black.

In the coming weeks, Kate was overcome with a huge wave of depression. Now that her son was here—named Michael, after her late husband—she started to obsess over the negatives of being a new mother at the age of fifty-seven. First of all, she had to accept the fact that in the past eighteen months, she had become both a grandmother and a new mother. There was also the fact that by the time this new kid was old enough to go to college, she’d be pushing eighty. And thinking of college opened her eyes to the added expense. She had enough money saved up, but she had made plans for it—namely a lot of traveling after sixty. But now those plans would have to change.

She also wondered how Allen was going to truly handle it all. Sure, he had been great so far. He had been genuinely excited through most of the pregnancy, but now the baby was actually here and changing their lives…especially Allen’s. First of all, Michael had stayed in the hospital for three weeks. He’d been in NICU while a team of doctors made sure he was going to gain weight. Kate missed most of this, as her own recovery was much harder than she’d expected. The strain of the birth had thrown her back out and her femoral nerves had also been damaged, causing her to occasionally lose feeling in her legs. She was finally officially released from the hospital after eleven days.

Twenty days after he was born, Michael was allowed to go home. He weighed five pounds seven ounces when Kate rested him in his bassinet for the first time. For the two days that followed, Kate had been an almost obsessive mother. She’d make sure he was breathing at least five times during each of his naps and at night; she hovered over Allen when he held their son, and she would not even let Melissa hold him.

Those two days had worn her out and that, she supposed, was what brought the depression on. She stayed in bed for eight full days, only getting up to use the bathroom and to shower on three occasions. Allen was essentially a single parent in that time, and during one of her nights of being holed up in her bed, Kate heard him sobbing.

On that eighth day, it was Melissa of all people who convinced her to get out of bed. There was a knock at the bedroom door. She assumed it was Allen and answered with a groggy “Come in.”

When she saw that it was Melissa, she wanted to cry but wasn’t sure why. She propped herself up on her left elbow, surprised at how much it hurt to do so. Staying in bed had made her quite sore.

“Lissa,” she said. “What a surprise.”

Melissa sat on the edge of the bed and took her mother’s hand. “How you doing, Mom?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Tired. Wiped out. Depressed.”

“Still having issues with your legs?”

“No, they seem okay. Haven’t lost feeling in them since I got back home.”

“Good. Knowing your legs are okay is going to make me seem like less of a bully with what I say next.”

“What is it?” Kate asked.

“I love you, Mom. But it’s time to get your ass out of bed.”

“I want to, I really do. But I—”

“No, Mom. Allen has been busting his ass this past week. I’ve helped where I can, but he only lets me do so much because he’s afraid of how you’ll react. Look…I get how weird and scary this has to be, but you need to face it. You’re fifty-seven and you just had a baby. And you survived it. Now it’s time to be a mother. And I can tell you from personal experience that you’re pretty good at it.”

Kate sat up and looked sternly at her daughter. “Allen…is he okay?”

“No. He’s exhausted and he’s afraid you’re in some bad place you won’t come back from. But I told him to get that right out of his head. You’re a rock star. He told me how you pushed through that pregnancy. And I’ve watched you reclaim a career as a female FBI agent even after you retired. You handled that…so you can handle this. More importantly, you were excited to start your career again at fifty-five. So now it’s time to be excited for this baby at fifty-seven.”

Kate nodded, and when the tears started to come, she did not fight them.

“There’s just one thing I need to let you know,” Melissa said.

“What’s that?”

“If you need me to tell you how babies are made, I can do it. Seems to me at this age, you’d know how to be safe.”

Kate burst out laughing. It hurt her sides, her stomach, and her head, but it also felt good at the same time. Melissa laughed right along with her, taking Kate’s hand again. “I mean, for real. My daughter is older than her own uncle. How the hell does that even work?”

Kate laughed even louder and leaned into her daughter. They embraced and stayed that way for so long that after a while, Kate could not tell where the laughter stopped and the crying began.

Slowly, Melissa helped Kate out of bed. She coached her through getting in the shower and even put on a pot of tea while her mother washed off. Taking a shower, as simple as it was, helped to bring Kate around a lot. But, to her amazement, it was also exhausting. She felt like an invalid as she struggled to put her clothes on.

As she fought to get her arms into a T-shirt, Melissa came into the room and helped. “I don’t know that I’ve ever helped you into your clothes,” Melissa said. “Good thing I’ve had Michelle to practice on. I bet she never would have thought her grandmother would need help getting dressed.”

“Were you always such a smart ass?” Kate asked.

“Always.”

Together, they left the bedroom and walked into the living room. Kate looked around, amazed at how clean and quiet the place was. “Where’s Allen and Michael?” she asked.

Allen took him out for a walk around the block. He’s done it twice a day for the last three days.”

“God, have I been that out?”

“You have.” Melissa took the kettle off of the stove and poured hot water into waiting cups with tea bags in them. “Mom…are you going to be able to do this?”

“I think so. Eventually. It’s just overwhelming. And it took way too much out of me.”

“I thought I was going to die when I had Michelle. I can’t imagine giving birth at your age.” She smirked here and added: “You old fart.”

“You know,” Kate said, “somehow, it became much easier to be apart from you over the years.”

This time it was Melissa who broke out laughing. It was like music to Kate. It warmed her heart in a way that she had missed. Sadly, she realized that she could not remember the last time she’d heard Melissa laugh so hard.

It made her wonder what else she had missed and taken for granted.

Director Duran kept his distance in the months that followed. He sent a card and a care package of diapers and wipes a week after Michael’s birth, but refrained from any emails or phone calls. Kate appreciated the gesture but started to feel a creeping sort of certainty about her future with the bureau. Having a baby at the age of fifty-seven and becoming something of a local celebrity for it likely meant her brief resurgence at work was now over.

On the other hand, she couldn’t help but wonder if the bureau might enjoy some of the free press. Not only free press, but uplifting and uncontroversial press for once.