March 1, 2009
The sound of Joe Johnson’s cries came through the monitor sitting on Steve’s nightstand at 5:30am. Still in a state of sleep, he reached over and started fumbling with the clock, then started banging on it with the palm of his hand.
“Are you trying to snooze our son, Steve?” Kayla called out sleepily.
Returning to the here and now, Steve opened his eye and saw the monitor’s red lights glow in unison with his son’s cries. “The Johnson Family alarm clock strikes again, Sweetness,” he said groggily, “right on schedule.”
“I’ll go,” Kayla said as she tried to get out of bed.
“Oh no you don’t. You’ve only been home two days. That was open heart surgery, Kayla, what are you thinkin’?”
“I’m thinking I haven’t seen much of my baby in those six days and really want to go get him.” But the burn of the incision made itself known as soon as she tried to shift her body to a sitting position. “Ooh,” she moaned in pain. “Maybe, ah – maybe you can bring Joe to me? My breasts are killing me.”
“Yeah, they’re killin’ me too, baby,” Steve said with a sleepy grin. Kayla smiled feeling slightly shy. “You get his breakfast ready,” he said as he gently palmed her breast over her top, “and I’ll go get our little dude.” Steve raised his eyebrow with a playful leer, feeling the weight of her milk-swollen breast as he placed a morning kiss on her cheek.
Kayla had been released from the hospital two days ago after having been accidentally shot by Hope. While Hope was still feeling the guilt almost a week later, she ultimately saved Kayla’s life before the Mayor’s killer tried to strangle the life out of her. Kayla wanted nothing more than to bound out of that bed and breastfeed her infant son, but the incision from her open heart surgery to dig out the bullet that had lodged there slowed her down. It did not, however, slow down her milk production, and this morning she was engorged. For a week, Kayla had to pump and dump so as not to pass on any of the drugs in her body to Joe. Today, she was narcotic-free and finally able to feed her baby, again. She cherished this time, as she was stuck in prison when Stephanie was an infant and never really had this opportunity with her.
Kayla sat herself up in bed and smiled as Steve appeared in their bedroom doorway holding their baby boy. It was the most beautiful thing Kayla had ever seen in her life. Her husband – her soulmate – holding their baby in his arms and looking at her like they were the only ones in the whole world. Kayla held out her arms and made a gimme motion with her hands. “Good morning, Baby!” Kayla cooed in her higher register, a smile spread across her face. Joey made a high-pitched scream of excitement to see his mommy. Kayla kissed his belly and nuzzled his neck, breathing in the scent of freshly changed baby. “Someone has a new diaper!” she said to him. “What a good papa you have.” Kayla raised her pajama top and cradled Joey to her left breast. The baby latched right on, and Kayla let out a moan of relief, “Ungh, thank God,” she said.
Steve slipped back in bed putting his left arm around her and adjusted her so that she could lean her back against him. Kayla laid her head back into the crook of his neck and sighed while Steve’s right hand reached around to hold Joey’s foot.
“How’re you doin’, Sweetness, still sore today?”
“Yeah. Getting better, though,” Kayla said. “Still burns a little, but once I get moving the pain will even out. It’s always worse in the morning when the skin hasn’t moved for so long.”
“I remember,” Steve said as he instinctively adjusted his patch, referring to his own surgeries he’d endured where his left eye had once been.” Kayla reached up to place comforting strokes along Steve’s face, gently curling her fingers into his beard as he kissed the top of her head.
Kayla dropped her hand back down, placing it on Steve’s thigh as he went back to caressing the bottom of his baby boy’s foot with his thumb. They stayed like that for several minutes, basking in this family moment with an appreciation most couples took for granted. Steve loved them and Stephanie with his entire being, and Kayla felt that love like a warm bath as she lay against him, passing on that love and her own to her suckling baby.
When Joey began to fuss, she gently switched arms, careful not to rub against her sizeable incision, and put the baby to her right breast. Steve kissed her, then kissed Joe’s head, and said, “I’m gonna jump in the shower. You ok here?”
“Oh, we’re fine,” she said with a relaxed smile.
Ten minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom to find Kayla had swung her legs to a sitting position on the side of the bed. She was pulling down her pajama top, as Joe was finally satiated. “Little dude’s taken my job,” Steve said with mock jealousy.
Kayla reached out a hand, and Steve helped her up. “Oh, I think your job is safe, Steve,” she assured him. Then felt a pang of irrational doubt and added, “if you – ah – still want it.”
She placed Joe in his pack and play in their bedroom. Steve said, “If I still want it? Baby, I might be sharing those breasts temporarily, but they’re still mine,” he smiled. But that smile waned as he saw her tense up and become uncomfortable. “Are you being serious? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing. It’s just …” she trailed off, looking away from him.
Steve caught her chin and tilted her face up to look at her. “It’s not nothing, Kayla. What is it?”
She looked down and placed a hand on her sternum. It – it won’t be … the same. This incision is not sexy, and … and it’s going to leave a big scar. I can hide it out there,” she motioned out the window, “but I can’t hide it in here,” she said, her eyes darting around nervously. “I’m a doctor, and in my head I know better. But in my heart, inside, I’m just feeling like a woman, like a wife. And my body – my breasts – will be different, now.”
Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Kayla. Are you kiddin’ me? You do remember who you’re talkin’ to, don’t you?” This is me, your one-eyed tomcat. You’ve never seen the big gaping scar that used to be my eye. In all these years, you’ve never seen that; you’ve only seen me. Why should I be any different? I will never see that scar, I’m only gonna see you, Sweetness. Of all the people in this world, I am the last one you should feel insecure with. I love you. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, before and after this scar.”
Kayla didn’t say anything. She was feeling conflicted, knowing that what he said was true but feeling somehow damaged anyway. Steve saw her doubt and stroked her cheek. When he let his hand slip down to caress her neck, she self-consciously put her hand up to her collar.
Steve looked at her meaningfully. “Don’t. Don’t do that, Kayla.” She dropped her hands to her sides as he held her gaze. Then he began to unbutton her pajama top.
“Steve, no.”
“Let me look at you, Kayla. I want to see you.”
“I don’t want you to see me. Please.”
“Kayla, do you think I haven’t seen it yet? I’m your husband, I barely left that hospital room, and I’ve been taking care of you for the last two days. I’ve seen your incision.
“But you’ve seen it clinically, observationally. You haven’t seen it as a man who wants to make love to his wife. Who wants to put his mouth on his wife. You haven’t seen it in the way I know you’re feeling right now.”
“That’s not true.”
“No?” she asked doubtfully.
“No.” he replied with conviction. “Kayla, I always want to make love to you. When I’m with you, I want you. When I’m not with you, I want you. And when I’m with you but can’t have you, I still want you.”
Kayla gave him a sideways glance that hinted at the playful.
“Well, ok, when the Bears are killing the Packers, I may not have my eyes on the prize, so to speak, but somewhere in that head of mine, I’m always thinking husbandly thoughts of you and not like someone just changing your bandages.
Steve reached over again and undid her top pajama button. “Baby, that scar means nothing to me,” he said as he undid the second. “And I don’t want you ever thinking anything different again.” He undid the next two, and Kayla started to feel naked even before he’d finished. He’d dropped his eyes, and she watched him watch himself as he unbuttoned the final two buttons. He looked into her nervous, face as she blushed before his eyes. “Can I please look at you, baby?” Kayla’s face was so apprehensive as she, nevertheless, nodded.
Steve parted her top, and he gazed upon once tightly pulled sutures that were now loosened as the skin knitted together and had started to heal. Rather than a neat slice, the skin was lumpy and bright pink all the way from right between her breasts to just below her ribcage.
“I take it back,” Steve said, “It doesn’t mean nothing to me; this scar means everything to me. I love this scar. This scar is what bought you back to me.” He leaned down and kissed the very top stitch with the gentlest of feathery kisses. Kayla tensed with insecurity, but she didn’t turn away. “This scar is what saved your life, Kayla.” And he kissed the next stitch just as gently. “I owe my life to this beautiful scar,” and kissed the next stitch. “Because I wouldn’t want to live if I didn’t have you with me,” while kissing the one below it. “I love your scar, Kayla. It’s why I have this breast to kiss,” as he kissed her left breast, “and this one to kiss,” and did the same to the right one.
Kayla let tears filled with love and adoration for her husband spill down her face as he kissed the next stitch, then the next, then the one below that. Her apprehension and self-doubt was melting away. “Baby, other than you, Stephanie, and Joey, there is nothing in this world I love more,” kissing the next stitch, “than this,” and the next one, “beautiful,” then the next, “scar.”
By now Steve was on his knees and kissed her final stitch. He then lowered the waistband of her pajama bottoms and playfully licked her navel. “This belly button’s not bad, either,” he winked up at her.
Kayla looked down at him and said, “You are an amazing man, Steve Johnson. I thank God every day for bringing you back to me.” Steve stood up and held her, cradling her head against his chest as he slowly swayed her to the sounds of music that only they could hear. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”