by Vi Keeland
“I’m going to take her down to x-ray now. We’ll probably be a while. Since she’s being admitted, you can go home, and I’ll bring your sister a phone after the treatment for her arm is decided.”
I turned to Grant. One look at his face, and I knew there was no chance he was leaving. He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m staying right here.”
The nurse looked to me, and I nodded. “It’s fine if he stays.”
She disappeared a moment and came back with a wheelchair. She and Grant stood at my sides to make sure I could get up, even though I’d said I was fine.
“We’ll be back in a while,” she said to Grant. “Make yourself comfortable.”
The nurse stopped at the nursing station and lowered her voice to speak to another nurse. “I’m waiting for x-ray to call down to say they’re ready for Ms. Saint James. Can you page me when they do?”
Once the double doors of the emergency room closed behind us, and we were out of Grant’s earshot, she spoke while she pushed my chair.
“I sensed that maybe you needed a few minutes without your brother around. I know what you learned was a shock, so I figured you might want to talk about it. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a family member. But if you don’t, that’s fine, too. I’m just going to give you a free ride around the halls until they page me and tell me x-ray can take you.”
I sighed. “Thank you.”
As promised, she was quiet and left it up to me to decide if I wanted to talk. After a few minutes, I did.
“He’s not my brother. He said that because he was worried they wouldn’t let him in since he’s not a family member. He’s my boyfriend.”
I looked up and over my shoulder, and the nurse smiled and nodded. “Well, now I’m really glad I didn’t ask if your brother was single for my sister. He’s very handsome.”
I laughed, and my shoulders relaxed for the first time in an hour.
We turned left down a new hallway that was empty. “I take it the pregnancy is going to be a shock for him, too.”
“He doesn’t want kids.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my husband wanted one or two. He wasn’t happy when I told him I was pregnant the third time. But I reminded him, I was the one who had to carry a nine-pound bowling ball while it felt like my uterus was going to fall out, and I was the one who was going to get sick for months and get up with the little monster after the delivery. Men sometimes forget that they have a hand in getting pregnant, too. You play, you pay.”
I knew that was true. Clearly I didn’t get pregnant alone. But…this was different. Grant had emotional scars. His reasoning wasn’t exactly the same as a man who didn’t want another mouth to feed or diaper to change.
“He has some very good reasons for not wanting a family. He…” I shook my head. It wasn’t my place to share the details of Grant’s personal life. “He…has reasons.”
“Let’s forget your boyfriend for a minute. How would you feel right now if the man by your side wanted a family? Would you feel differently?”
I didn’t even have to think about that. “Yes. I definitely would. Don’t get me wrong, I’d still be in shock. But I want a family someday. I didn’t think that would be nine months from now. But if the man I loved wanted children, I’d be okay with it, I think.”
We passed another nursing station, and the nurse pushing me said hello to a few people. She waited until we’d passed before resuming our conversation. “So your only real concern here is how your boyfriend is going to take the news.”
I thought about it. “Yes. I think so.”
“Do you love him?”
I took a deep breath in and exhaled. It probably should have taken me longer to answer that question, but love wasn’t something that needed to be analyzed. You either did or you didn’t. I nodded. “I do.”
“Does he love you?”
I thought back to the worry on his face in the emergency room. He’d seemed truly terrified that I might be hurt. The way he’d looked at me lately had changed, too. I’d find him watching me with a smile when he didn’t think I was paying attention, and the other morning I woke to him watching me sleep. “Neither of us have said the words, but I think he does.”
“Obviously, under the law you have choices. But it sounds like you want a family and you love the baby’s father. I know I’m oversimplifying things, but it seems to me like there’s only one choice in this matter, and it’s your boyfriend’s—whether or not he wants to be with you and your baby more than he wants to be alone.”
***
I stared out the window from my uncomfortable hospital bed, watching the sun come up. I’d barely slept last night. The x-ray showed I had a clean fracture, which meant no resetting of bones or surgery, and they’d come to cast my arm shortly after midnight. Grant had stayed by my side until I practically pushed him out the door. If he’d had his way, he would have slept in the chair and stayed all night. But with so much to think about, I couldn’t quiet my mind enough to fall asleep even after he was gone. I dozed off and on, mostly.
Mia was an early riser, so I thought about calling her. But it didn’t feel right to tell her about the pregnancy before I’d told Grant, even though she was my best friend.
Grant knocked on my hospital room door at seven a.m. He had two cups of coffee and was dressed casually.
He set the coffee down on the portable food tray and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Morning. How’s my girl?”
My heart squeezed, and I had to force a smile. “Good. Tired.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“Not much.”
“That’s understandable. Between the accident and being in this place…then the cast. You’ll get some sleep when we get you home.”
“The day nurse came by a little while ago and said it would probably be a few hours before my discharge was ready.”
Grant took one of the coffees, peeled back the tab to open it, and handed it to me.
Without thinking, I brought it to my lips and almost drank. But caffeine. I shouldn’t have that. Setting the coffee back on the tray, I said, “I think I’m going to skip coffee this morning. I don’t want the caffeine keeping me awake later.”
Great. Now I’m a liar and an information withholder.
“Good idea. I picked up some plastic cast shields in the pharmacy downstairs. Doc said you shouldn’t get it wet, and I figured you’d want to take a shower when you got home. Maybe a nice hot bath.”
“Thank you. That does sound good.” Though…oh my God. Could I even take a bath? I honestly knew nothing about pregnancies or babies. And the thought of doing this alone made me feel like I might break out in hives. I scratched my face.
“I spoke to my sister on the ride over and mentioned what happened. She said no problem covering you for however long you need.”
I forced a smile. “That’s sweet. But I definitely will be back at work tomorrow. It’s just a broken bone and a small cut.” And a pregnancy.
Grant frowned. “You should take it easy. You were banged up pretty good. You’re going to be achy, if you’re not already. They need to give you muscle relaxers or something for pain.”
Yet another thing I can’t do. So I simply nodded.
For the next few hours, Grant sat by my side. I was definitely quieter than usual, and he asked me on more than one occasion if I was in any pain and if everything was okay. I explained my mental absence as exhaustion, which at least wasn’t fully a lie.
After I was discharged, they made me sit in a wheelchair while Grant pulled the car around out front to pick me up. He got out and helped me into the car, even though I told him I was fine. I got the feeling nothing I could say was going to convince him to stop mollycoddling me.
Well, there was one thing that would probably make him run far the hell away.
We drove to my apartment, and I took a shower and went to lie down. Grant drew the blinds and turned off all the lights so it was practicall
y pitch dark in my bedroom. He stripped down to his underwear and wrapped himself around my body, spooning me from behind.
The room was so quiet, and I thought the intimate moment might be the perfect time to tell him, but I truly was exhausted. It was a conversation I knew I’d need energy for. So I pushed it off, yet again, vowing to tell him when I woke up later.
While I was lost in thought, apparently Grant was, too. He kissed my shoulder and whispered, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you. I realized last night, I can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
For some reason, that made me so sad. My eyes welled with tears, and they started to spill over. But I couldn’t explain anything to him while I was crying, so I cried in silence, and let him think I’d fallen asleep.
Chapter 33
* * *
Grant
I was in the kitchen cooking when she woke up.
Ireland had fallen asleep with wet hair, and it had dried with the side she’d slept on pressed flat to her face and the other side all curly and wild. It was a mess, yet to me she’d never looked more beautiful. I was so relieved she was okay.
I turned down the flame on the stove and wiped my hands on a dishtowel. “That was a good nap.”
She walked over and peeked at what was cooking on the stove. “What are you making? It smells so good.”
I lifted the lid off a pan. “Chicken piccata.”
“It looks delicious, too. I didn’t even realize I had the ingredients to make that.”
I chuckled. “You didn’t. I snuck out while you were snoring and picked up chicken, olive oil, and some spices. The only spices I could find in your cabinets were cinnamon and red pepper.”
“Yeah. Mia was the cook of the house. They were all hers. She wanted to leave them here, but I snuck them into a box when she wasn’t paying attention. Figured they’d go to waste here.”
I pulled her into my arms and brought her against my chest. “How do you feel?”
“I’m still tired. But better. How long was I asleep?”
I looked at my watch. “About six hours. It’s almost four thirty.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah. Actually, I am.”
I smiled. “Good. I’ll finish up, and we can eat an early dinner.”
Ireland went to wash up and came back out looking around the room. “Did you see my phone? I think it broke during the accident. I tried to fiddle with it in the emergency room and it wouldn’t turn on, but I’m hoping maybe it will come back to life when I charge it.”
I pointed with a fork to a bag on the counter. “I slipped it out of your bag while you were sleeping and picked you up a new one. It’s in the box up there. They said they loaded everything from your old one, but you might want to check that because the sales clerk at Best Buy looked about fifteen, and the whole data transfer only took about five minutes.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
Ireland was quiet throughout dinner. She still seemed off to me, but I’d never been in a serious accident before and figured it was probably normal to be shaken up a bit. After we ate, she called Mia to tell her what happened, and I could hear her freaking out through the phone.
Later, Ireland was still quiet.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I asked.
She looked away and nodded. “Want to watch a movie?”
I smirked. “Disney? Sure.”
Ireland forced a smile. “Not tonight.” She sat down on the couch and started to scroll through Netflix, then Hulu, and finally HBO on Demand. Sighing, she extended the remote to me. “You pick something.”
Second to porn, I preferred action movies. But I didn’t think car chases and shit blowing up was the best thing to put on right now. “Do you like Will Smith?”
“Yeah.”
“When in doubt, Will Smith.” I pointed the remote to the TV and went back to Netflix. After a search by actor name, I said, “Pick one.”
She shrugged. “Any is fine.”
I didn’t want to keep on bugging her, but she really seemed off—almost depressed. The Pursuit of Happyness was the first movie on the list, so I picked that, even though I’d already watched it. I lifted Ireland’s feet onto my lap and guided her to lie back so I could give her a foot rub.
The movie was about a down-and-out dad who winds up homeless with his son while he takes a non-paying job in an attempt to make something of himself and better their future. It was a drama, based on a true story, and parts of it were sad. But at one point, I looked over and found tears streaming down Ireland’s face. She hadn’t even made a sound. I grabbed the remote and put the movie on hold.
“Hey.” I scooped her up from the couch and cradled her in my arms. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
She nodded but kept looking down at her lap.
I gave her some time, but she never made eye contact or started to talk, so I put two fingers under her chin and guided her face up to look at me. What I saw caused an ache in my chest. Her eyes were filled with pain, her face completely distraught.
“Talk to me. What’s going on? Are you in pain? Are you having flashbacks to the accident?”
She started to cry even harder. “I…I don’t want to lose you.”
I brushed hair from her face and slid my hands down to cup her cheeks. “Lose me? You’re not going to lose me. Why would you think that?”
Ireland reached up and covered my hands at her cheeks with hers. “Grant…I’m…”
“What?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. “I’m…pregnant, Grant.”
***
One minute I’m in her apartment, watching her sleep and thinking I should tell her I love her when she wakes up, and then the next I’m out the door like the fucking coward I am.
I didn’t yell or argue. Maybe I was in a state of shock…I don’t know. But I also couldn’t console her or tell her everything was going to be okay. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t fucking okay.
I waited until after Ireland calmed down, and then told her I needed to go. She wanted to know where I was going, but I had no idea. The truth was, I just needed to be anywhere but there.
I motioned to the bartender by holding up my empty glass and rattling around the ice that hadn’t had time to melt.
“Another one already?”
I took out my billfold and peeled off three hundred-dollar bills. “The hundred should cover all my drinks. Other two are for you if my glass is never empty.”
The bartender, who I’d started calling Joe—yet I wasn’t sure if he had told me that was his name or I’d made it up in my head—refilled my glass. “You got it.”
I sat at the bar and drank three more vodka tonics. I’d never been a big drinker, so four had me starting to see double—which was exactly the state I was going for. The dingy bar I’d wandered into a few blocks from Ireland’s place had emptied out, except for an old guy parked at the other end of the bar. The bartender came over and took my glass, which was still about a quarter of the way full. He dumped out the ice and poured me a fresh one. Setting it in front of me, he leaned an elbow on the bar.
“For that kind of a tip, I also provide an ear to listen to the story about whatever went down that brought you here today.”
I lifted the newly filled glass and some of it sloshed on the bar. “Maybe I’m just an alcoholic.”
Joe smirked. “Nah. Your tolerance is shit.”
“Maybe I’m just broke and down on my luck.”
“Nah. Broke guys don’t carry around a wad of hundreds and look like you do.”
“And what exactly do I look like?”
Joe shrugged. “Want the truth?”
“Sure.”
He looked over the bar and sized me up. “Clean pants, nice shoes, polo with that fancy whale embroidered on it, and a money clip. You look like a rich asshole who probably grew u
p with a silver spoon in his hand.”
I burst into laughter that wasn’t the funny kind. Silver spoon. That was exactly what Ireland had said in that very first email that started it all.
I drank more of my drink. “Maybe you’re both right.”
The bartender’s brows drew together. Though he didn’t give a shit enough to ask what the hell I was talking about. “So, not broke, not an alcoholic, that leaves the obvious—the reason half the guys come in here to get plastered. Trouble at home. Am I right?”
I grumbled. “Something like that.”
“The trouble with trouble is that it starts out disguised as fun.”
I’d never heard it put that way, but there was a lot of truth in that statement. “You’re a wise man, Joe.”
The bartender smiled. “Name’s Ben. But for two hundred bucks, you can call me Shirley. I don’t give a shit. I’m divorced twice, and my advice probably isn’t worth shit. But here it is anyway. If she makes you smile before you have coffee in the morning and you don’t have to knock back a few drinks to get in the mood when she’s around, she’s a keeper. Get some flowers from the twenty-four-hour bodega down the block, and go home and apologize. Doesn’t matter who was right or wrong.”
If only it were that simple. “You’re right, Joe.”
The bartender straightened up. “So you’re heading home?”
“No. Your advice isn’t worth shit.”
Chapter 34
* * *
Grant
Where the hell am I?
I lifted my head, and it felt like some of the skin on my cheek stayed on the thick plastic I’d been sleeping on. I rose up to an elbow and looked around. I was in some sort of a waiting room, and it looked industrial. But I had no fucking clue where I was or how the hell I’d gotten here.
“You’re at Patton State Hospital,” a deep voice said from nearby.
Patton. What the fuck was I doing anywhere near this damn place? I followed the direction of the sound and found a well-dressed man sitting a few chairs away. He closed what looked like a chart he’d been working on and folded his hands on his lap. “I’m Dr. Booth.”