hard for the couple next to me and their grandchild.
The day had been unusually dismal for LA. Gray and overcast.
Suddenly, a ray of sunshine beamed through the stained-glass window.
And a ray of optimism streamed through my being.
God had heard me.
Now, I just had to wait.
CHAPTER 13
Jaime
D ay turned into night. I stayed with Gloria, never leaving her side. Oh my sweet angel. So pale. So lifeless. Yet so beautiful. I was relieved our precious babies were in excellent health—each miraculously weighing a little over four pounds—and in one of the best neonatal intensive care units in the world—being monitored by wonderful nurses and doctors. I longed to be with them, but I couldn’t leave Gloria. Not even for a minute. So, I settled for the next best thing. Babytime . An innovative marriage of healthcare and technology that Cedars had pioneered. With an iPad, I could see our babies—talk to them and interact with the nurses on duty, even ask them questions. And that’s just what I did before I called it a night.
God, they were beautiful. I’d watch Payton and Paulette develop via ultrasound, but nothing prepared me for the reality of these two little real-life dolls. The nurse on duty whose name was Kashunna assured me they were doing great. They were hearty eaters and as strong as oxes. Before I signed off, I sang them a song. Our song. “Toi et Moi.” The Charles Aznavour classic that had played just before Gloria and I had fucked our brains out in Paris on the Grand Roue. The song that symbolized us. Two hearts entwined that melt into infinity. I sang it part in English, part in French. Kashunna had tears in her eyes and complimented my voice. I was humbled and thanked her as I never thought much of my singing talents. I had in essence sung a lullaby that put my beautiful babies to sleep. But I wished it had awoken my sleeping beauty, Gloria. She didn’t stir. Babytime was over.
I was spending the night, and the hospital had kindly provided a cot. While I silently watched over her, a parade of nurses and doctors marched in and out of the room to check on her. So far, all her vitals were stable to my great relief; I let Kevin know. He, too, was relieved. The after-party had started and he was low-keying Gloria’s condition. I told him I appreciated that.
A kindly nurse brought me dinner, but except for drinking the 7-Up to quell my thirst, I didn’t touch a thing. I simply had no appetite. The room shrouded in darkness, I dozed off in my chair to the lull of Gloria’s soft breathing.
A dream filled my head. A beautiful one. Gloria and I, holding hands, were watching our children, now three, frolicking on the beach. On the very spot where we had exchanged our vows. Little Paulette was the spitting image of Gloria…her platinum hair already cascading down her back. A sweet but stubborn princess. And Payton, well for better or for worse, he was a mini-me. Cocky to the bone. But oh, so creative too.
“Daddy, guess what I am?” my barefooted son shouted, running around in circles with his little arms outstretched.
“An airplane!” I shouted back. Our children had been on airplanes more than most people had been in their lives. Gloria and I took them everywhere, whether we traveled for business or for pleasure.
“No! I’m a seagull.”
“And I’m a baby seagull,” chirped my adorable Paulette, copying her brother, her mane of white silk flying in the wind.
Gloria broke loose of my grip and dashed after the children with her long, toned arms flapping. “And guess what I am?”
Both children broke out in a fit of laughter. “You’re silly, Mommy!” Paulette giggled.
“No. I’m a mommy bird who’s come to gather her babies and feed them dinner.” I watched as she lovingly scooped our twins into her arms.
And then I got into the game. I loved games. Especially the ones I played with my beautiful children.
I ran up to them, making loud grunts. They screamed. “And guess what I