The Ex-Wife of Chris Goldman

27 - Time Flies

Fast forward
Sylvianna is about 3 years older. I had her at age 2 1/2 but she turned 3 about a month after the adoption of the twins
Sylvianna: 6
Abernathy & Lisbeth: 3
October

Chris POV
I'm sitting on the sofa watching the game and suddenly I feel a tug on my arm

"Daddy play princess?" Lyra begs , giving me her puppy dog eyes

"Absolutely!" I say, assuming it means wearing a tiara and attending tea time. I would do anything to keep my little girls happy, and princess time means I was completely wrong on tiara and tea is actually means a tiara, her deciding to "paint" my nails and by "paint" I mean smear bright red polish all over my hands and then she proceeded to put on makeup she must have snatched from Harper's drawer.

"Daddy pretty!" She shrieks, causing Harper to waddle into the rooms. Yes, I said waddle because that's what she calls her walk now that she's 5 months pregnant. Yes, the doctors said she could never have more children because of all the losses she....we had, and this was a surprise. It was a 1/10000 chance of conceiving again and we decided to keep the pregnancy and if Harper started suffering we would look at options.

"How's my little and big princesses doing today?" Harper mocks me, ever since Lisbeth found out that a new brother is on the way she had been begging me to play princes with her so that way mommy can take care of baby and play queen when baby brother is born. I decide to play along with her mockery out of the pure amusement of Lisbeth

"My dear queen, it seems to have been said by Princess Lisbeth that tea time had been moved up to 1:30 as to not interrupt her royal nap or game of dollies later"

She laughs as a smile spreads across her face

"Well, carry on my princesses." She pats Lisbeth on the head and walks into the kitchen

"Daddy, will baby brother play pwincesses with me?"

"He might, but only if you are really nice to him and don't take his toys."

"We name him cookie." She looks estates that she came up with such a brilliant name

"You want to name baby brother cookie?" She nods "Or Cupcake. Or Ice Cream. Or Dessert."

I laugh, the names are hilarious and only a 3 year old would consider naming a child Ice Cream Goldman.

"CHRIS!!" I hear Harper shout from the kitchen.

"Pardon me Princess Lisbeth, the queen calls."

I get up and sprint into the kitchen worried something might be wrong

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"Chris. Will you pretty please please please go get me donuts? and maybe some green olives. Oh, and a supreme pizza?"

I sigh in relief "Please don't shout like that I thought something was wrong."

"No, nothing's wrong. Except little Mr. Wants all the foods I listed."

I hug her and head out on my quest for food. Because when a pregnant woman tells you what food she wants you listen, or else you'll face an angry beast. Jk, she's amazing. She has been able to juggle her job, the girls, and still have 'fun time' with me if you know what I mean.

I'm in the bakery section of the grocery store when I get the call. I drop the donuts I'm currently holding and sprint out the store, pushing people out of my way. The call you ask, who was it? It was Sylvianna, She walked into the kitchen to find Harper laying on the floor in a pool of blood. She called 911 and the nice ambulance people asked if she knew how to call me.

I drive like a mad man to the hospital, my car is pushing 90 while the speed limit is 75. I don't care, Harper can't lose another child. She's lost Kimmy, Charlie, and Emmadette. This will not happen. I get to the hospital and pull into the drop off zone leaving my car, not caring that some nurse is yelling that I have to move it. I rush in and beg the front desk people to give me information. The girls are in the nursery care center and Harper's having an emergency C-Section that just began. A tear slips from my eye, the nurse can tell that I'm upset and says that I can get my girls and go wait in the room assigned to Harper.

I decide to leave them in the care place, that way I can let off my tears without them seeing daddy break or mommy in a bad state. I pray, for the second time in my life, I pray. The first time was when Harper left and I prayed for our baby to be alright. I'm not religious and neither is Harper. We weren't raised that way. I cry and cry and cry and pray and yell and collapse in a chair. A group of surgeons wheel Harper in, she's unconscious.

"Mr Goldman, Harper is stable and has hug vitals. Your son was rushed to the intensive infant care unit. Since he's about 4 month premature his lungs and heart are undeveloped and he will need to remain on machines until we can get him to the point he's stable, if he reaches that point."

"What do you mean if. There is no if, you will fix my son."

"Sir, we're doing the best we can here."

"I don't care if this is your best. I will have him transferred to Hopkins if that's what it takes. You take exceptional measure to ensure my son is the best cared for."

The girl looks shocked, her eyes well up with tears. I scared her and at this very moment I don't care. I care about my son and my wife. I want them to be okay, I want to go home with Sylvianna, Lisbeth, and Abernathy. I want the cheesy kindergarten graduations, the first dates, the scared first boyfriend or girlfriend, I want it all. I want my perfect little family and that's all I care about. I would sell my company in a heartbeat if it meant my family was okay.