2

~ You, Handsome, You ~

Chicago, Illinois
September 16th, 1998

Todd Caravan struck the knob to the radio.

As the rain pounded the windshield, he wet his lips and glanced over at his wife. Mary’s seat reclined backwards. Tousled brown hair fell over her shoulders as she slept. She rested her right palm over her belly. It was a subconscious action now—she’d started doing that as soon as her pregnancy with Esther was confirmed.

It was cute. She was cute. Hell, even with her small frame, at five months pregnant she didn’t show that much. It’d been a miracle they’d found out she was pregnant at all. The plethora of health issues she’d had (uterine cysts, a cancer scare) had led them to the doctor. After requesting a pregnancy test, the result shocked them both.

"You’re four months pregnant," the doctor had told them.

And their lives had instantly changed.

Todd squinted through the rain. He needed new windshield wipers. It was dark, and he could barely see the road. Despite this, he felt confident. He hadn’t been the best driver in the police academy for nothing.

His flip-phone vibrated against his thigh. Mouth dry, his heart rate increased a little. He knew who it was, and he felt guilty.

Todd looked at his sleeping wife, and then at his phone. Indeed, it was a message from her… that cute brunette who worked the midnight shift with him. Her name was Ginny, and she liked talking to Todd.

A lot.

He felt special. He’d never been "the most attractive" guy on the block, so when women noticed him, it was hard not to feel validated.

And things were fine with Mary… and he told himself the playful banter with Ginny was innocent enough. Mary didn’t banter with him anymore. He didn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault with the recent life stressors and health issues, but he missed that aspect of their relationship.

Thunder crashed. Ahead of him, red brake lights lit up, and traffic slowed again.

Todd looked at Mary again, and then flipped open his phone.

"What are you up to today?" Ginny asked.

Flicking his eyes back and forth from the road to his phone, Todd typed with his thumb. "Boring stuff. Headed to see my mom. You?"

Lightning flickered. The rain increased. Todd kept the phone in his hand, and he drove with his left arm.

"Oh… just on break… missing my work husband ;)".

Mary shifted in her sleep.

He watched her. Guilt warmed his stomach as he responded. "And who’s that?"

Red and white lights flashed as an ambulance passed on the southbound interstate. Wetting his lips again, Todd watched the lights fade in his rearview mirror, and then returned his gaze to his phone. He shouldn’t be texting in this weather. What was wrong with him?

Was that a tornado siren?

"You, handsome. You. :)"

His heart raced. The tornado siren didn’t help, and he was stepping into dangerous territory. He shouldn’t respond. Should he? Maybe he was overthinking this.

Without warning, a car stopped ahead of Todd.

Gasping, he slammed on the brakes and grabbed the wheel with both hands. His phone clattered across the center console and thumped to the floor near Mary’s feet.

Todd stopped the car before rear-ending the sedan. With relief, he sighed, and turned to look at Mary again. Damn, she could sleep… which was good, because his phone fell at her feet with that text message available for her to see if she picked it up.

He needed to grab it, and take this as a warning sign.

Pressing the brake, Todd bit his lip and leaned down. He could hear his breath hissing from his teeth as he strained. Rain spattered the car and the windshield wipers squeaked. The tornado siren seemed louder.

His fingertips brushed the phone.

It slid.

Cursing in his thoughts, Todd leaned further down. His foot slipped against the pedal.

A deep horn screamed behind him.

Startled, he shot up and grasped the wheel. Traffic had moved on; he hadn’t.

As Todd drove forward, Mary adjusted in her seat. Her eyes fluttered open, and she groaned a little. "How much further?" she whispered.

Todd’s eyes darted towards the open phone on the floor by her feet. "A little while longer, sweetie, go back to sleep."

"You, handsome, you." Ginny’s text message mocked him with the knowledge that it was right there… within Mary’s grasp if she wanted it. And she was not unfamiliar with looking at his phone for mundane reasons.

Was this how his dad felt before his wife found out about the other woman?

No. Ginny wasn’t an "other woman," and Todd was nothing like his drunken, Armageddon-obsessed, conspiracy-theorist of a father. He was overreacting, but Mary wouldn’t agree if she saw the message.

"Is there a tornado?" Mary asked, and shifted her legs. Her toes brushed the phone.

Todd’s blood pressure spiked. "I don’t know, baby. Maybe." He pressed on the gas.

Traffic moved at 50 mph now. Trees rocked, and lightning zigzagged across the black sky.

Mary groaned. "What time is it?"

"It’s almost 2 a.m."

"We should have stopped at a hotel, the weather is terrible. How can you see?"

"Mary." Todd held up a hand. "Please just let me focus, okay?"

"I’m sorry." Mary sighed, and she moved her feet again. "Is that your phone by my feet?"

He couldn’t breathe. Had the windshield wipers increased their speed or was it his imagination? "Yeah, it dropped earlier."

"We should probably call your mom and let her know where we are." Mary brushed her hair back and leaned forward.

"You, handsome, you."

The truck swerved a little. Todd wasn’t sure if the wind caused it or his nerves. He clenched his teeth. "Just—don’t worry about it, I don’t want you to hurt yourself."

Mary laughed a little. It was an attractive laugh, one he would miss if she found that message and blamed him, just like he’d blamed Will that night for tripping him when Todd had stumbled over his own feet.

"You’re silly. You act like me bending down is going to hurt our baby. Relax." She reached for the phone.

That thunder… it roared now, like God’s voice within his eardrums. Todd watched as Mary’s fingertips grasped the phone, and he felt his pulse within his head. "Mary—"

She sat up and screamed.

It made him look up.

Brake lights pierced the interior of the truck, and the vehicle hurtled towards a stopped van.

Todd whipped the wheel to the right. Thunder crashed, headlights flashed, and the bed of his truck fishtailed in the rain. Like a pendulum, the vehicle swiveled back and forth.

"Todd!"

"I’ve got this!" Todd roared, but he did not believe himself. The truck had too much sway, and his blood pressure was far too high.

The storm raged. The sky lit up, and, for a brief moment, he saw the reflection of his own terrified expression in the wet windshield.

Grinding his teeth, Todd overcorrected the wheel. The car skidded, spun, and came to a horizontal stop on the interstate.

Oncoming white headlights illuminated Mary’s tear-stained face. She looked at her husband with desperate eyes. A horn roared, tires squealed, and her hands went to protect her belly.

Todd screamed. "Ma—!"

Glass shattered. Vision blackened. Chemicals seared his face. His body flopped, snapped, jolted. Was the truck rolling?

Mary. She’d been struck first.

His thoughts suffocated, much like his face within the airbag. Things, both in car and body, smashed, cracked, shattered, and ripped. Something spattered on his face.

Mary’s blood?

No.

It was water.

"Mary…" he mumbled, and he realized his head was upside down. The entire truck had flipped. Outside, the storm carried on, and raindrops struck his face.

"Baby," he muttered, and tasted blood in his mouth. "Hang on."

With labored breaths, Todd attempted to find the seatbelt.

Footsteps pounded towards the car.

"Help!" Todd cried, and his throat stung. "My wife is pregnant. Get her out!"

Horns blared, and boots shuffled on the roadway. People shouted, asked questions, tugged at the doors.

"She’s pregnant," he wailed, and tears slipped from his eyes. He couldn’t lose his wife and his little girl—his squirt.

Ginny didn’t matter. That phone didn’t matter.

His wife did. His unborn daughter, Esther Marie Caravan, mattered. But as emergency sirens broke through the chaotic storm on the interstate, Todd Caravan realized something dire.

Mary hadn’t made a sound.

Red, blue, and white lights flashed through the storm. Time was strange. On one hand, during the crash, Todd felt as though he’d been watching chaos in slow motion. Now, like a blender, time accelerated and put his processing abilities in such a state of turmoil he couldn’t keep up.

He wasn’t sure if he was hurt. He could only think of Mary. After a firefighter freed him from the vehicle, while he stumbled backwards towards the voice of a beckoning police officer, he could only see the pleaful look on Mary’s face as the white lights exploded and struck with violence he’d never forget.

It was his fault.

Karma.

And if she was dead he would never—

"She’s conscious and breathing. Not alert." A man’s voice, a paramedic, cut through the commotion.

The rain soaked Todd as the police officer questioned him, asked him about injuries, and shined his flashlight on the glass-torn skin on Todd’s body. The officer looked at Todd’s eyes too… protocol, to see if he’d been drinking.

"Sir. Life EMS is trying to confirm the hospital with you. I see you’re from Illinois, do you know where you are right now?"

Dazed, Todd nodded. "We’re near Traverse City, I think. I don’t care. Nearest hospital. Can I ride with her?"

"How many months pregnant again?" A paramedic whipped her head towards Todd as she pushed the stretcher towards the ambulance.

Tears and rain wet Todd’s cheeks. "Five months."

"Okay, we’ve got another ambulance coming. Ride with them to the hospital, and they’ll assess your injuries too. We gotta go."

The wind rocked Todd back onto his toes as first responder lights swarmed the stormy area. The tornado siren had stopped, but the other incoming sirens were eerie and loud as Todd processed the entire scene around him.

Upside-down truck. A sedan in the ditch. That tanker at the side of the road with its hazards on.

"You, handsome, you."

"Let’s get you on your way to your wife," the officer said, and gestured towards another ambulance. "I’ll have another officer meet you there for a full statement."

* * *

“Todd.”

His eyes opened. Pain throbbed. His neck and head were stiff from whiplash. Cuts burned, and his heart hurt. That familiar voice though… Patricia. His mom. Thank God.

“Mom?” Todd struggled to sit upright in the surgical waiting room chair.

His mother stood before him, short in stature with thick, greying dark hair. She wore a black raincoat tightened with a sash. Tears welled in her eyes, and she reached for him.

Todd went to her and cried. Crying was one thing he’d never felt shame about. Had his mother not divorced Jacob Caravan, however, his father’s upbringing might have swayed his ability to express the emotions Patricia had always encouraged him to embrace.

Todd wanted to tell her about the text; he wanted her to tell him this wasn’t his fault, and that he wasn’t like his dad.

The last person he wanted to resemble was his father, Jacob Caravan. Jacob cheated on Todd’s mother, resulting in his half-brother, Will Caravan–a little boy who had deserved so much more than death at the age of three.

“Karma,” Jacob Caravan had always said.

He blamed Will’s death on karma. But even at age five, Todd recognized that Jacob had never treated Will fairly. Todd knew he was the favorite, and he always wondered if he’d not blamed his little brother for tripping him if–

“What’s the news, sweetie?” Patricia sat down next to him.

Todd wiped his eyes. “She went in about ninety minutes ago. They’re trying to stop the internal bleeding and monitor Esther.” He rubbed his head. “They said if the baby is in distress, they’d have to do a c-section.”

“Oh, honey.”

“Mom, I’m scared.” Todd’s face went into his hands. His body hurt, and he wanted to vomit.

This was his fucking fault.

“Honey, listen. The medical field is astounding… okay? They know what they’re doing. Mary and your baby will be fine.” Patricia rubbed his shoulders.

“You don’t know that.”

Patricia hugged him. “I’ve been around doom and gloom my entire life, sweetie. I’ve got a pretty good sense of intuition. Pray. Trust God.”

His mother was right about one thing. She’d always been a strong soul, even throughout his parents’ divorce and the mental abuse Jacob put her through. Patricia never allowed him to see or hear the fights between them.

But he didn’t want to think about God. In fact, God probably hated him right now, and Todd couldn’t find blame in that.

After several more minutes of conversation, the surgeon came to tell them that the surgery was going well, but that a cesarean would need to take place due to the fetus being in distress. Todd asked countless questions, desperate to know that both Mary and his child would be okay.

“We’re doing the best we can,” the surgeon said, attempting a smile on his solemn face. “I don’t see any reason that your baby won’t survive this. I’ll be back with updates as soon as I have them.”

Todd dozed again. In his dreams, he heard squealing tires, screams, and sirens.

Patricia awakened him when she left her seat to go to the restroom.

With heavy eyelids, he sat up and looked at the time. It was almost 6 a.m. Had he missed updates?

“Mr. Caravan. Can we talk?”

Todd straightened in his chair. His eyes met those of the dark-haired surgeon who stood in the waiting room. With a racing heart, Todd rose from his chair and approached him. “Please tell me good news.”

The surgeon’s face didn’t change from its solemn state, and Todd wondered if the man’s expression ever changed. “It’s good news. Your wife’s in recovery… so is your daughter. She’s in neonatal care right now, but she’s stable.”

God didn’t hate him. “Thank God. Fuck. I’m sorry.” Todd didn’t want to lose complete calm in front of the expressionless surgeon.

“It’s ok. Would you like to see her and then your wife?”

Todd nodded. He glanced back towards the restroom where he saw Patricia emerging. “Can my mom come?”

“We’d rather immediate family for now. There’s some paperwork and consent to treatment forms we need you to sign too.”

Patricia gestured for him to leave. “I heard. Go see your family, honey. I’ll be here.”

Past the double doors, a young nurse, a stout woman with large, blue eyes, instructed Todd to wash his hands. The smell of antiseptic lingered in the air as Todd stepped out of the private bathroom and took the cap and gown offered to him. He opted to wear a mask too. There was nothing he wouldn’t do right now to ensure his daughter’s health and safety.

Those feelings intensified when he laid eyes on her for the first time.

In the dimly lit room, Esther Marie Caravan lay in the incubator on her back, her legs curled and her tiny hands fisted. Todd saw tubes and pads all over her tiny body. It wasn’t how he’d imagined seeing his child for the first time, but gratitude overwhelmed him.

He wouldn’t fuck up again.

Jacob Caravan had killed Todd’s brother out of drunken negligence.

Todd had almost killed his daughter over a flirtatious text message he’d wanted to hide from Mary.

“Hi, squirt,” Todd murmured, and smiled through the mask. “I’m your daddy, and I love you so much. Just wait until you meet Mommy and Grandma. They love you very much too.”

The machines beeped. Esther’s little belly quickly moved in and out.

“Are you able to sign some consent to treatment paperwork for us, Mr. Caravan?” the nurse called.

“Yes. Whatever you need.” Todd looked at Esther again. He wanted to hold her close to his heart. “I’ll see you soon, squirt.”

In the hallway, as Todd attempted to scan the paperwork, the lines blurred. He was exhausted. The crash from the adrenaline left him feeling dizzy and sick. Once he reached the last page, his signature wasn’t even on the line… but he did notice something interesting he’d never seen on medical documentation before.

“I acknowledge that my child’s genetic information may be analyzed and used for research by the Kaseem-Sovonov Institution for Medical Advancement and its affiliate: Project Savior. This analysis is intended to advance medical knowledge, care, and potentially provide enhanced patient care.”

“Hey, what’s this?” Todd waved down the nurse and pointed to the paragraph. “I’m tired so I don’t understand half of what I’m reading.”

The nurse scanned it. “Oh. People question that one a lot. The best example I have is this–sometimes after surgeries where breast tissue, for instance, is removed, they ask the patient if they consent to having their tissue studied for medical knowledge and advancements. This is similar, only it’s been making waves because advancements have been actually happening.”

Intriguing. “Like what?”

“Well, there was someone who gave birth to a baby with a rare genetic disease that would have killed it eventually, but the infant wasn’t showing symptoms. With the DNA analysis, they were able to diagnose the disease early and use the kid’s own DNA to provide treatment.”

“Really?” Todd looked at the paper. “Would it hurt her? My daughter?”

“Nope. Just a quick blood sample with the other standard blood work.”

He pondered, and he envisioned his tiny Esther in the incubator. “Any potential benefit to a preemie like her? I just don’t want to sign something weird that could potentially hurt her, you know.”

The nurse smiled. “Totally get it. And it’s up to you. But yes, there’s a possibility that this could be a benefit to her in the long run. Worst case scenario? Nothing comes from it. Except maybe some research that turns out to be useless. And… you can withdraw consent at any time too.”

“Oh.” Todd stumbled again, desperate for sleep. “Okay. I just want her to have the best chance she can get.” He looked at the signature he’d scribbled already, far above its intended line. “I’m good with it. I’m suing you if something happens though.” He handed the papers to the nurse and smiled.

She laughed. “Well, I don’t have much. You’ll get my cat, that’s about it.”

“Ha.”

“Now. Are you ready to see your wife?”

Reassurance, hope, and a small sense of dread that she would be angry with him sprouted in his chest. “Yes,” he said. “I need to tell her how incredible our little girl is.”