Mallory had a miscarriage.
It's horrible to even talk about. She called me from the doctor's office. She was desperately trying to compose herself on the phone and I knew something was wrong when she told me I needed to pick her up right away. Daphne dropped me off and as soon as I walked in I saw her, pale faced and sitting on the edge of one of the waiting room chairs. She saw me, but just sort of stared...stood up and handed me the keys as she walked out the door and to the car. I was confused and definitely a little scared. I didn't want to say anything. We drove the rest of the way home to her house in silence and, as we reached the door she fell to the ground and started sobbing. I was about to lose it. I managed to get her into the house and onto the couch and she started to compose herself...but I still saw the tears. She told me she had lost the baby. My heart sunk in my chest and I just instinctively grabbed her and squeezed her close and we just sort of stayed like that for a while. I didn't know what else to do.
As scared as I know she was to have this child and to be a single mother, she was exicted about it, as well. She has always been a motherly type...more so than even our mother, really. She always took care of me when I was sick and mom and dad were at work. She would bake cookies around Christmas time and always would put a few in my lunch bag. I was planning to take a trip with her to Babies R Us this upcoming week so she could start buying what she needed for the baby. And now...well. She's sleeping because of the sedatives they gave her.
I have never seen her this completely devistated. And it hurts.
Jeff called the day after this all happened. He didn't say anything about the message he left for me. Just wanted to know how I was, how things were at home. Everything that had been going on hit me at once. I managed to force out "horrible" before I started crying.
Something you need to know about me. I'm a pretty sensitive guy, I think...but it takes a LOT to make me cry. Jeff knows this. And he wanted to know what was wrong. So I told him about Mallory's miscarriage and cried some more. And I could tell that he was upset, too. He didn't say much. Just kept telling me everything would be OK...things happen for a reason...and how I should just not worry about anything except helping Mal get through this.
The next afternoon a bouquet of flowers showed up at Mal's door with a sweet handwritten note...signed "Love your other little brother, Jeff."
That boy amazes me.