The Day We Took Eli Home
On discharge day, Dr. Kline handed us a folder filled with instructions.
Then she smiled.
“Premature babies usually won’t remember their first weeks here.”
She looked at both of us.
“Parents always remember who was beside them, though.”
Elise glanced at me. I understood exactly what the doctor meant.
I carried Eli through the hospital doors. He looked unbelievably small inside the car seat. But he was going home.
And so was I, although I wasn’t sure what the word “home” meant anymore.
My downtown penthouse suddenly felt enormous and empty. Elise’s modest apartment near Bishop Arts was filled with paintings, books, plants, baby blankets, and life.
So I began spending more time there. Eventually, I listed the penthouse for sale.
When Walter asked why, I gave him the simplest answer I could.
“It has too many rooms and not enough people.”
