But there’ll be no beauty in the world if I can’t see my baby.
“Lilly Trainer, she’s eight. Her mother brought her in.”
“Just a moment,” she says, calmly.
I want to rip her eyes from her computer screen. I take a deep breath as she scrolls through her files.
She looks up.
“I’ll have a nurse take you to her.”
I manage to mumble thank you. I don’t know if she heard me and I really don’t fucking care.
A chunky guy in pale blue scrubs walks over to me.
“Mr. Trainer? I’m Grant Chambers. I’m the charge nurse that’s been looking after your daughter. At the moment, the doctors are trying to decide whether it’s severe gastroenteritis or appendicitis. We’re running some blood work and we need a sonogram. For now, we’re keeping her quiet and hydrated. Lilly’s mom is here with a friend.”
The nurse takes me into a curtained cubicle and I realize why the hospital employs a guy like a linebacker for Friday night ER, because Carla’s friend is a guy with his arm around her, sitting next to my daughter.
Lilly’s face is pale against the pillows, her dark curls fanned out. She’s so still and quiet, my lungs struggle to pull in air.
“Justin.”
I turn at the sound of the voice. The hippy-shit, limp-dicked, long-haired, Fritz-the-Cat reject is staring at me, his hand held out. Keep standing like that, buddy, and I’ll rip your fucking arm off.
“I’m Steve.”
He drops his hand.
Not as dumb as you look, Steeeeve.
I lean down and lightly brush the hair from Lilly’s face. She doesn’t move.
I straighten up slowly.
“What are they saying?”
My words are directed to my daughter’s mother. I can’t call her ‘the bitch’ right now, not when she’s looking at our child like that, like half of her has been ripped away. Whatever our problems, she’s always loved Lilly. I never knew what that meant until now.
“They haven’t decided yet.”
“What the fuck are they waiting for?”
I know my voice is too loud for a hospital, but I can’t help it. I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but Carla just looks at me tiredly.
“They’re doing everything they can, Jay. They don’t want to operate if they don’t have to. The doctor said he’d be back with the results from the blood work in twenty minutes.”
I run my hands over my hair in sheer fucking frustration.
Carla leans back and I see for the first time that she’s holding Lilly’s hand in her own. It looks so small, like a tiny doll’s hand. My baby is so young.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” says Steve.
I nod, but don’t look at him.
A minute passes. It’s so quiet. Shouldn’t there be beeping monitors? Shouldn’t there be some sign that these fuckers are looking after my baby?
I stand and start pacing up and down the small cubicle.
Carla stares at me but doesn’t say anything.
After another minute of pacing, I’m about to go postal.
Steve returns with coffee, at least, that’s what he says it is. It looks and smells like goat urine.
“Where’s the fucking doctor?” I snarl.
I’m about to have a serious, Anderson-shaped tantrum, that may or may not involve a range of offensive weapons, when some stiff in green scrubs walks in.
“Miss Palmer?” he asks, calmly.
“Yes!” Carla replies, sounding desperate.
The doctor glances at me and the hippy.
“Um, I’m Steve Pollini, Carla’s partner. This is Justin Trainer, Lilly’s father.”
What kind of name is ‘Pollini’? Makes the fucker sound like an appetizer at a cheap Italian restaurant. “Have some garlic bread with your Pollini.” Stupid fucking hippy.
“Ah. I’m Doctor Mathers. Well, I’m afraid the tests have been inconclusive.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I growl at him.
He replies with that infuriating hospital-voice that’s supposed to be all low and soothing. Makes me want to rip his tongue out of his fucking patronizing skull and use if for fish food.
“Well, Ms. Palmer, Mr. Trainer, there’s definitely inflammation in Lilly’s gut. That will certainly result in the intense pain she’s been suffering…”
I close my eyes. I don’t want to think of my baby suffering, my baby in pain. Make it me, not her!
“…and this can mimic the symptoms of appendicitis. However, there’s no abdominal rigidity and that’s a good thing. We could well be dealing with a case of severe gastroenteritis. At this point, I want to keep Lilly for observation; she also needs to be hydrated because of the loss of fluids during the vomiting and diarrhea.”
“That’s it?”
“We’re doing everything we can, Mr. Trainer, I can assure you. Rest, fluids, and observation. Do you have any more questions for me?” I shake my head. “Ms. Palmer?”
Carla’s eyes are wide and her lips tremble. She looks at me, then slowly shakes her head.
“No,” she says, “I don’t have any questions.”
And then we wait.
Memories, so many memories. Waiting in a place like this when Lilly was born. All those ER trips in the early days because being parents is fucking scary and every time Lilly got so much as a cough, we were jumping in the car and racing to the hospital. When I wasn’t deployed, that is.
When Lilly turned six, she asked me what my job was. I jokingly told her that I was the Invisible Man. She thought her daddy was a comic book hero, but with a better suit. Her mom thinks I’m a bad joke.
I’m not exactly five stars at waiting. I fucking hate it. Give me something to hit, give me something to shoot at. Don’t make me sit here counting the ways I can scare the shit out of Steeeeve. Okay, that bit isn’t so bad, but waiting for my baby to be better is fucking killing me.
And anyway, this is a different kind of waiting. When I’m on a job, I can be patient. I know that sounds unlikely, but it’s true.
I’m not on a job now, and my gut is twisted in knots. I feel so fucking useless—helpless. And I don’t like it.
A nurse bustles in. She takes Lilly’s temperature and adjusts her IV. She smiles. It means nothing.
I get a text from Rachel.
How’s Princess Lilly?
Too early to say. Could be appendicitis. Could be stomach flu. No fucker here knows.
Lilly is strong. Give her my love. Try not to shoot anyone.
I will. No promises on the shooting.
Love you, Justin Trainer.
Me 2.
“Is that Rachel?”
I realize Carla is asking me a question.
“Yeah.”
“She’s good for you, Justin. You seem … calmer.”
What a fucking joke. I’m climbing the walls here.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, really. I thought you’d charge in here, stomping all over everyone, waving your gun.”
“I thought about it.”
She smiles tiredly.
“That’s what I mean, you’re calmer.”
My lips twitch in what might have been a smile if I wasn’t so fucking worried.
And then we wait and wait some more.
Steve disappears to … hell, I don’t remember what he went to do and I don’t give a shit. I prefer it when the hairy fucker isn’t here. Christ knows what Carla sees in him. He’s the polar opposite of me…
Oh, right.
Lilly’s eyelids flutter and I think she’s waking up.
“Hey, baby. Daddy’s here.”
She smiles in her sleep, but she doesn’t open her eyes.
I sit back, sighing.
“So, how’s it going with you and Rachel?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You really want to know?”
Carla shakes her head and attempts a tired smile.
“Not really. I just need some
distraction.”
“And you thought talking about my love life would do that?”
“So, you do have a love life?”
I feel like telling her to take a job with sex and travel, but I don’t.
“I’ve asked her to marry me, Car. She said yes.”
Carla takes a deep breath.
“You’re getting married?”
“Yep.”
“Once wasn’t enough? Sorry, Justin, that came out wrong. I’m really happy for you.”
She sees my skeptical stare.
“No, really, I am. Lilly will love being the flower girl. Oh, sorry, I don’t know what you have planned.”
To be honest, I hadn’t really thought that much about getting married. I’d just thought about being married. It could be a Vegas wedding with an Elvis impersonator for all I care. It’ll be whatever Rachel wants. But now Carla’s said it, I can just picture Princess Lilly all dolled up, carrying a basket of flowers.
“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. We haven’t discussed it. It’s kind of new.”
“Well, congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I hesitate for a moment. “So what about you and the hi— Steve?”
She shrugs her shoulders.
“Maybe. We’ll see. He loves Lilly. He makes a great father … I mean, step-father.”
I scowl at her.
And just like that, the peace pact is over.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Justin! He sees her more than you do! You’re always working. The number of times you’ve canceled on Lilly are unreal!”
“That is a fucking lie. I canceled one time, one time because I was stuck at work. I’ve made it up to her a thousand times over!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Justin! You can’t make it up to an eight year-old child who has had to learn that adults make promises but don’t always keep them. You can’t make that up to her.”
I shoot her a venomous look but say nothing.
“What the hell did I ever see in you? You’re still a foul-mouthed jarhead!”
“Mommy?” says a soft voice. “Is Daddy here yet?”
“I’m here, Princess,” I say softly.
“My tummy hurts.”
“I know, sweetheart, but the doctors are going to give you medicine to make it better.”
“Where’s Steve?”
I look up to see Carla staring at me in triumph. Anger rushes through me, but I bite my tongue for Lilly’s sake.
“He’s running an errand, baby girl. He’ll be here soon.”
Her eyes close again, and she drifts back to sleep.
“Well, I hope you’re happy now,” hisses Carla.
“What?”
“You woke her up with your ranting!”
“Bullshit!”
The curtain is pulled back by an embarrassed Steve, and Dr. Mathers who looks tired and irritated. I know how he feels: Carla and I have been doing this for the better part of a decade.
“Um, everything okay in here?” asks Steve.
“Just peachy, Steeeeve,” I reply, earning a scorching look from Cruella de Vil’s uglier sister.
The doctor sighs. He’s seen it all before.
“Well, Lilly is doing much better now. Her temperature is down, and she’s responding to the fluids and pain medication. I’m fairly certain she’s out of the woods.”
“So, it’s not appendicitis?”
“No, Mr. Trainer. Gastroenteritis can look very dramatic, but Lilly is going to be fine.”
“Thank fuck for that.”
He smiles.
“Indeed.”
Carla smiles at Steve, and Steve smiles at Carla. It’s a fucking smile-fest. It’s so sweet, it makes my teeth ache.
BY THE FOLLOWING afternoon, Lilly is sitting up in bed, complaining about missing her favorite TV show. It’s still Dora, the Explorer. My baby is still a baby.
“Hey, Princess. You want to come and stay with your old man soon? Rachel would love to see you.”
“Can Mommy come, too?”
“Um, no. Mommy’s busy that weekend.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, Buttercup.”
“Me too, Daddy.”
God, I love that kid. So much.
I’m tired, but relieved. I didn’t kill Carla, and I didn’t maim Steve. Who needs anger management classes?
“Are you staying, Justin?” she asks, between gritted teeth.
“Yeah, I’m going to check into a hotel, stay around for a couple of days.”
I know Anderson will be cool with that. The twisted fucker has a heart: who knew?
“Oh, lovely,” she says, under her breath.
But then my cell rings.
“Trainer, it’s Mason. The blackmailer has struck again.”
Fuck.
Carla sees the look on my face and turns away.
“Just go, Justin. Do your job. It’s what you’re good at.”
Chapter 24
Three Go Camping
THE BLACKMAILER IS getting tired of Howard blocking him at every turn. His latest tactic is to release videos on hundreds of sites at once. Yes, Howard can track them down and stop them, but even with a team of super-geeks helping him, it’s becoming more and more likely that someone will start putting names to faces and asses.
Howard seems to take it in his stride. Maybe he imagines it’s like one of those endless computer games he played in college; and maybe that’s better than acknowledging that the footage would probably ruin the boss.
But after another month of cat and mouse, the blackmailer disappears into the ether of the internet and we’re chasing ghosts again.
Thank fuck I have backup from Mason’s team and can take a few precious days for a short vacation. If you keep pushing yourself, you’re in danger of burning out, and then things can get missed or you become sloppy.
I need the break, but that’s not as important as the fact that this is something I’ve been promising Lilly and Rachel for a while now.
Lilly wants to go camping, even though I’m not sure she realizes what it means. Rachel knows and is pretending that she loves camping, even though I can tell it’s not really her thing. So, I’m calling it camping because that’s what Lilly is excited about, and I’ll take my old two-man tent to pitch under the stars, but in reality, we’re borrowing Bill’s cabin that’s set in fifty-five acres of forest on the shores of Lake Towhee.
I can tell that Rachel is nervous because it’s our first time away together, and her first time spending more than a few hours with Lilly. She’s worried how Lilly will be overnight without her mom there, but when I took her to a sleepover for kids at the Natural History Museum last year, she was fine.
I understand her anxiety, because this is also the first time that Rachel will meet Carla.
Yeah, that’s going to be interesting.
Anderson has let us take the Rover and seems bemused by the fact that two of his staff are spending a long weekend playing happy families. Mrs. Anderson waves us off with a genuine smile: “Have fun, you guys!”
Rachel climbs into the Rover, fiddling with the seatbelt.
“Babe, it’s going to be fine.”
She gives me a tight smile.
“I know.”
We make good time on the drive out and I pull up outside the house. Rachel takes a deep breath and steps out of the car.
The front door flies open and Lilly charges at me, throwing her arms around my waist.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, Princess.”
The she looks up at Rachel.
“Hello again, Lilly. Are you excited about going camping? I know I am.”
Lilly nods, unusually shy, and at that moment Carla walks out.
“Justin.”
“Carla.”
Rachel steps forward.
“Hello, Carla. I’m Rachel. It’s so nice to meet you at last.”
They shake hands, and I can see Carla subtly sizing up Rachel. She seems surprised, but I’m not
sure why.
“Good to meet you, too, Rachel.”
“I was hoping to meet Steve, as well. Lilly has told us so much about him.”
Carla’s lips tip upwards briefly.
“He’s at work. I’ll tell him you said hi.”
There’s a short, somewhat awkward pause, then Carla launches into mom mode.
“I’ve packed spare clothes and Lilly’s swimsuit, but don’t forget to spray her with Off because bugs bite her all the time. I’ve packed her ball cap, sun lotion and some natural aloe vera gel because ordinary after-sun makes her itch.”
There’s a long list of does and don’ts and I can see Rachel is dying to take notes, because that woman is so organized, but we’re camping—you need to have a certain amount of spontaneity.
“Bug spray, sun lotion, ball cap, aloe, no gluten, only one scoop of ice cream, brush teeth before bed: got it,” I say, earning a scowl from Carla.
Rachel smiles reassuringly.
“My brother-in-law keeps the cabin well stocked for my nieces—I’ve seen how much girls need,” she says kindly. “And there’s a ton of outdoor games, too.”
Carla looks slightly reassured, then turns to Lilly.
“And ask Daddy to make sure your cell phone is charged so I can call you, and if you need anything you can call me.”
I press my lips together to keep from reminding Carla that I’m Lilly’s father and if she needs anything during the four days we’re away, I’ll get it for her. But I don’t, because I know that Carla loves Lilly and handing over to me and Rachel for a few days is not something she’s comfortable with.
“There’s a strong signal at the cabin,” Rachel says, “and Bill always leaves a spare charger there.”
They exchange a look, and on Carla’s face there’s acceptance, maybe even gratitude. Then she turns to our daughter.
“Bye, honey,” she says softly, hugging and kissing Lilly. “Have fun. Call me, okay?”
Carla gives a brief smile then watches as Lilly climbs into the booster seat and checks that she’s done the seatbelt right.
Jane Harvey-Berrick Saving The Billionaire Page 19