THE LONGEST RIDE

His arms, hands, work boots, dark blue pants, and light blue shirt were dappled and smudged with dried, pasty white sheetrock mud. Under the brim of his Badgers baseball cap, his jaw was set and his eyes were oddly fixated on a sign above the seats across the aisle. Tall and thin, Paul looked like a mannequin propped up on the bench seat at the back of the bus, which was barely deep enough for him to sit on, certainly not comfortably. His very long legs were bent at the knee and were at odds with the floor. His lanky right arm appeared to be set awkwardly, elbow bent, with his forearm resting against his hip, his hand ill at ease in mid-air, not even resting in his lap. His left wrist lay upon his upper left thigh and in his hand, as if standing at attention, was a single plastic-wrapped long-stemmed red rose.
He’d left home this morning just as the sun peeked over the night’s darkness. His wife, Tammy, still lay half asleep in their bed and he brushed her warm cheek with a kiss, tip toed to the kitchen so as not to wake the boys, two and three, who had not yet somersaulted into their day. He took the sandwich Tammy had made for him the night before from the fridge and placed it into his lunch pail with an apple and a bottle of water. Paul left a note on the counter telling Tammy he would be working late. With the third child on the way and Tammy unable to keep her job due to medical issues with her pregnancy, Paul worked as many hours as he could get, often working weekends and double shifts. He sorely missed spending more time with Tammy and the boys, but he took his role now as the sole breadwinner very seriously. They had only been in their new home a few months when the doctor said Tammy had to leave her job. They had not planned on paying the mortgage and their other bills on a single paycheck.
Paul had thought after their second boy was born that their family was complete, but Tammy had always dreamed of having a little girl. They argued a good bit over it but Paul was a pushover where Tammy was concerned. He loved her to the moon and back, as he was fond of telling her, and he finally acquiesced. “But if it’s another boy, that’s it!” he told her, with a look in his eye that said, “Oh, yeah, right.”
To Tammy’s delight and Paul’s relief, the sonogram announced that the baby was a girl. Paul had to admit that he was thrilled that he would have a daughter to love and protect. Together they planned a frilly pink nursery.
Paul was physically well suited for hanging drywall. He was as strong as the proverbial ox and could carry multiple four by eight-foot sheets at a time. His six foot three frame made him the go-to guy for reaching the high spots. He was working new construction for a six story office building and was happy to have gotten this gig, even though it was a long commute. He would drive to a stop and ride parking lot a few miles from home and from there take two different buses to the job site. Though it took longer to get there than it would by car, he saved a good bit on gas.
The fourth floor of the new building was to contain many offices and the job foreman found Paul in one of them a short while after the lunch break. He called him down off the ladder and together they walked out into the hallway. “Paul,” he said seriously, “I’ve just had a call that your wife has been taken to Northside Hospital.” He handed him a slip of paper and told him to go to the construction trailer and call the number he’d written on it and ask for Nancy. She would give him further information.
The first bus ride was the longest and Paul dwelled nervously on the news Nancy had given him. Tammy was bleeding profusely and there were signs that she might lose the baby. She was only seven months along and they were doing everything they could to prevent that, but it was touch and go at the moment.
There was a fresh flower stand at the stop where Paul changed buses. He bought a single long-stemmed red rose and carried it onto the bus that would take him to his car. Whatever the outcome, he wanted Tammy to know how much he loved her, but he agonized over the thought of losing their baby girl and what it would do to Tammy if that were to happen. He dared not even think that he might lose Tammy.
Paul arrived at the hospital and rushed to find the room number the woman at the information desk had given him. Visibly shaken, he knocked lightly on the closed door, afraid of what he would learn inside. A voice not belonging to Tammy said, “Come in,” and he pushed the heavy wooden door open slowly. He immediately saw Tammy in the bed, crying softly, and his heart sank. With tears coming to his own eyes, he walked to the bed, took Tammy’s hand and laid the rose next to her head on the pillow.
“Are you okay?” he asked shakily, pulling a chair to the side of the bed. Thankfully, she nodded her head, though she certainly did not look good. Tammy glanced over at the nurse who then left the room. “I was so worried about you,” Paul whispered as he kissed her forehead. “I am so, so sorry,” he mumbled, tears now streaming down his face, not really knowing as yet what had actually transpired but assuming the worst. They cried softly together for a few moments, not speaking.
Suddenly the nurse returned pushing a portable incubator into the room. Tammy turned her head to see. Startled, Paul rose from the chair and saw inside a tiny diaper clad infant, attached to monitors and IV drips, eyes covered with little gauze patches.
“Meet your beautiful little girl,” said the nurse happily. “She’s going to be just fine!”
