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He stands outside of the house; staring through the open window where he can see Heather in the kitchen — standing at the counter cutting vegetables in deep concentration. A few feet to the right, he sees their daughter perched in front of the television screen holding a toy doll against her chest — completely innocent and oblivious to the world.
A small smile stretches across his lips at the sight of his family, of his girls, breaking through the barrier of sadness that followed him home from the hospital.
Today had been a rough one, sometimes some cases are less severe than others, but it’s seldom a day where they get a case that doesn’t emotionally shatter Robby, leaving him carrying the weighted guilt and burden of that loss with him. He’s been a doctor for too long to know that it wasn’t exactly healthy to carry that responsibility with you, it was okay to feel but Robby had a tendency of becoming too emotionally attached which always made it hard to separate himself from those feelings long after the case is finished.
He was continuously working with his therapist on that; but despite Dr. Smith’s efforts, Robby was currently carrying the weight of his emotions again after a particularly hard case that he had today.
A child who was only three years old died today. They’d done everything possible to attempt to revive the little girl back to life, but their efforts were futile as she succumbed to her injuries leaving her parents alone and heartbroken and Robby carrying her death along with him in his pocket like a solemn reminder.
He treated every case with the same professional heed, never prioritizing one over the other, but there was something about the cases with children that made Robby extra cautious. After having a child of his own, he became more vulnerable to the cases — every little girl with curly pigtailed hair or big, brown eyes reminded him of his own daughter.
The little girl today, Jenny Salinger had been no different.
You can’t let yourself carry that weight with you, Robby. It isn’t healthy, you’re allowed to feel for your patients, but you have to know when to leave work at work and not let it infiltrate into your life at home. You see enough sadness and death, you need to allow yourself to keep that separation so it doesn’t consume you.
He had tried to remember Dr. Smith’s words, but Jenny reminded him so much of Rachel. And when he saw her parents hovering over her body, Robby felt tears blurring his vision and his throat barring with a thickness of emotions. He ran to the bathroom, hid in the stall and cried behind clasped hands for little Jenny Salinger and her parents.
As he stood there, Robby could feel the back of his pupils burn with tears that threatened to fall again. He hurriedly blinked them away, scrubbing his face clean with the sleeves of his jacket as he gathered himself together. He exhaled a few deep trembling breaths before walking up the stairs and inserting his key inside of the keyhole.
He barely makes it through the front door before Rachel’s attention pulls away from the television screen and onto him. She gasps, a wide smile spreads across her face as she absentmindedly disregards her doll and clambers to her feet. “Daddy!” She bellows, the tulle from the tutu that she’s wearing bounces in accordance to her skipping as she makes her way over to him.
Robby smiles, his heart leaps against his chest at the sight of her. He hurriedly slides his bag off of his shoulder, alleviating the extra weight so that he’s able to catch her as she makes a graceful leap into his arms. She giggles, the sound reverberates in Robby’s ear as she wraps her short arms around his neck and holds him close. He exhales a trembling sigh, closing his eyes as he holds her a little tighter than usual.
“I missed you, daddy!” She says, turning her head a bit so that she’s able to look at him. A few loose curls tickles his cheeks in her movements.
“I missed you too, baby.” He says, looking up at her in amazement. He understands how genetic works, but it still astonished him that him and Heather made her; a perfect little human being wrapped in both of their idiosyncrasies and personalities. She looked mostly like Heather, but those big brown eyes that she has were his, and looking into them now as he holds her helps ground him back into his own reality.
He presses a kiss against her cheek, rubbing a hand against her back as he made his way through the living room and into the kitchen. “You had ballet practice today?” He inquired, stepping over the clutter of toys that she had skewed across the carpet.
She nods against his shoulder, “I did a plié!”
“I recorded the practice so you can watch it later,” Heather says in his approach, looking up from the cutting board where she was slicing thin pieces of carrots up. She smiles at him, but it slips around the edges, curling into a worried frown when she noticed his weening countenance. Her eyebrows furrow, you okay? her expression reads in concern.
And of course he should’ve known she would be the one to detect the masquerade of his emotions. She’s always been good at that, sometimes he thinks that she knows him far better than he knows himself.
Robby only gives her a halfhearted smile and a terse shake of the head. Later. As he brushed another hand over Rachel’s back. She nods in understanding, placating a small smile as he enters into the kitchen with Rachel. He walks over to where Heather’s standing and leans down to meet her in a kiss.
He’s not able to lean into it like he wants to with Rachel perched in his arms, but he does allow his lips to linger against hers for a bit as he savors in the taste of her. His eyes flutter softly in content when she reaches her hand up and cradles his face in her hands.
He turns and kisses her palm, smiling softly at her. “So, Rach learned to do a plié today, what about you mama? How was your day?” He immediately slips back into dad/husband mode, managing to find solace through his troubled pain even if it’s just temporary.
Heather hums as she picked up her knife to resume cutting. “My day was good. After practice we went out on a little mommy and daughter lunch date. I called Dana to see if you had a little bit of free time so we could come visit you, but she said you were swamped today so we went to the park and came back home instead,” She shrugs.
Robby nods, feeling grateful for Dana’s intervention. He doesn’t know if he could’ve handled seeing Heather and Rachel immediately after losing Jenny like that.
“I climbed the whole way ‘cross the monkey bars.” Rachel announces, lifting her head from its rested perch. Her entire face swells when she smiles just like Heather’s and it makes Robby’s heart swoon fondly in adoration.
“You did?”
“Mommy helped a little bit but I mostly did it by myself,” She boasts in a proud confidence much to both her parent’s amusement.
Heather chuckles, gathering a handful of carrots as she transfers it into a salad bowl. “Dinner’s almost ready, honey. Go shower. We’ll wait on you until you get back,”
He nods, pressing a kiss against Rachel’s forehead before he sets her back to the ground. His hand finds Heather’s arm, giving it a small squeeze of affection before he retreats down the hallway and disappears into their bedroom.
He turns on the light switch and walks over to his dresser, tugging open the top drawer to grab a clean pair of boxers, a t-shirt and some black sweatpants. He doesn’t shower too long, just enough to scrub off the smell of antiseptic and sweat off of his body. When he returns to the kitchen, Heather’s setting the pan of lasagna in the middle of the table.
“Rach!” She bellows, calling out for their toddler who skips her way into the kitchen again. She clambers her way into her seat, the extra cushion beneath it accrues to her height so that she’s able to reach the table better. Robby runs a hand over her hair, watching as she tilted her head back and smiled at him.
He mimics her smile before making his way into his own chair.
After Rachel’s fed and tucked into bed with two goodnight kisses from both parents and a repeat reading of Charlotte’s Web from Robby, sleep easily finds her; resulting in her parent’s stealth egress as Heather switches on her nightlight and leaves the door ajar.
They retreat to the kitchen again for a post dinner clean-up. Robby had taken the task of washing tonight while Heather rinsed and packaged the leftovers in the tupperware containers. “You wanna talk about it now?” She asks, voice soft in her approach.
Robby blinked, briefly looking away from the plate that he was washing. He pauses reluctantly, swallowing the lump that wedged in his throat. “It was just another hard one today. A kid. A little girl, only three years old,”He confesses through a trembling voice. “She had on one of those little Minnie Mouse shirts like the one Dana gave Rachel for Christmas and had this look that—” He harrumphs softly, trying to regulate the steadiness of his voice again but his emotions betray him.
“That reminded you of Rachel?” She finishes for him, causing Robby to nod somberly.
“Fuck,” He groans, removing his hands from the sudsy dishwater as he reached for the dish cloth and wiped his teary eyes. “I know that I’m not supposed to do this, bring work home with me… I just…”
Heather shakes her head as she turns to pull him in a hug. She feels Robby’s body go lax beneath her touch, his breath comes out uneven and trembling against her neck as he barred his arms around her waist and held her tightly like she was an anchor keeping him from drowning. Her thumb oscillates against his nape, the small comforting gesture eases some of the tension he feels burning in his shoulders. “M’sorry,” He murmurs, burying his nose against her clavicle as he squeezes his eyes shut.
“Don’t be,” Heather avers, shaking her head. “Sometimes, it’s hard to separate the two.” She empathizes, and a sharp hitched breath catches in his throat. “Believe me, I know. It’s gotten harder for me too after Rach. But, you have to remember that as long as you tried your best which I know you always do, that it’s not your fault.”
Her thumb halts its ministrations as she gently pried his face away from her neck. Her forefinger and thumb grasp his chin and tugged it upward until their gazes are leveled. He knows she can see the pain written all over his face; how his frown deepens and his lip trembles despite her reassurances. “They thanked me. Her parents, even after I couldn’t—they came up to me and thanked me and I…” He chokes up again, shaking his head as he feels the tightness wrapping around his throat again.
“They thanked you because everyone knows how good of a doctor and person you are.” Heather assures him, her thumb wipes beneath his eyes. “They saw you doing everything you could to save their daughter. You tried and no, it wasn’t the outcome anyone wanted it to be but you tried, Michael and sometimes that’s all you can do.”
Her sighs shakily, pursing his lips together as he considered her words. He knows that she’s right (and that Dr. Smith’s right) sometimes it was just easier said than done for him. And today had been one of those days.
“Don’t ever apologize or feel guilty for your heart and humanity, but also remember that you’re just one person and that you don’t have to always carry those feelings alone.”
He nods, sliding his hand up her back as he held her close. He leans down a bit, tucking his forehead against hers. “Thank you,” She’d always been his anchor, the one constant in his life that held him together especially at the time where he felt like he was drowning the most.
“You don’t have to thank me, Michael.” She whispers, looking up at him beneath her lashes. “I’m your wife. Whatever you go through, we go through together.”
He leans forward, closing the space between them as he sought after her mouth in a kiss. It’s slow and sweet with him chasing her lips with a gentle fervor, relishing in the way she easily reciprocates and succumbs to the emotions that’s implemented through each peck. “I love you,” He murmurs, his hands squeeze her hips, “so fucking much,”
“I love you, too.”
Their moment of intimacy is interrupted by the soft sounds of footsteps approaching. Turning their heads, they look and see Rachel standing in the doorway. She’s clad in her pink and purple footed pajamas with the toy giraffe her uncle Jack had given her for her birthday two years ago tucked against her chest. She rubbed her hand against her eyes, looking up at them through the bleariness of her vision with an adorable pout furrowed on her face.
“Hey, what are you doing out of bed little lady?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” She murmurs, her pout deepening.
Heather pulls her arms from around Robby as she walks up to their daughter. Tucking her hands beneath her armpits, she hefts her small body into the air and sits her on her hip. “How about you come sleep with us tonight, huh? I could sure use some of your cuddles and I know daddy would too.” She meets his eyes and sees him giving her a tearful smile.
Robby nods, harrumphing softly again before speaking. “I sure would,”
“Okay!”
Heather reaches for Robby’s hand, “Come on. We can finish cleaning up in the morning.” He acquiesces to her beckon, easily sliding the palm of his hand over hers as they intertwine their fingers. He flicks off the light switch as they descend down the hallway.
They pile into the bed; Rachel nestled between them with her head tucked on his chest and soft snores whistling through her nostrils, while Heather was chiseled comfortably in his arms having succumbed to her slumber as easily as their daughter did. Robby laid there staring at his two girls, wondering how the hell he got so lucky. The day might not have ended like he’d hoped, but he was glad that he was able to come home to the two people that always help pull him back up to surface when he needs it most.