“Pretty much, but it’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m still getting used to it all.”
“How long have you been with the Nighthawks?” I ask. “Sorry, I don’t have much time to follow sports these days.”
“This is my first full season. They drafted me when I was a junior at UNC. I started with their single-A team in Tampa, and then I was lucky enough to skip right to triple-A out in Las Vegas where I played until they called me up late last summer. It’s been a wild ride.”
“Wow, you’ve moved around a lot,” I say.
“I go where they tell me. But I really like New York, so I hope they’ll let me stay.”
“Based on what I’ve seen, they’d be fools not to. You’re a great player.”
“Thanks. I’ve worked my whole life to get here,” he says.
I nod. “I know what you mean.”
We step into the elevators and I hit the button for the seventh floor. “Well, for being so new, you seem to have quite a following.” I nod back to the kids in the atrium. “And my patient, Elizabeth, she seems to know all about you. She won’t let any of the staff do procedures if you’re in a game or being featured on the highlights.”
He laughs. “I’m really just happy to do what I can. It’s surreal. It’s everything I dreamed of since I was a kid. The only thing missing is . . .”
He looks down at the elevator floor and blows out a breath.
“Is what?” I ask.
He shrugs. “People to share it with,” he says. “Family.”
“I guess with your sudden fame, you have to be careful, huh? But, hey, you’re way too young to consider settling down with a family. What are you, twenty-four?”
“Twenty-three,” he says.
The elevator dings and the doors open as we reach the seventh floor. I find myself getting excited knowing I’m about to blow Elizabeth’s mind when I walk in her room with Caden Kessler. I wonder what she’ll do.
I’m glad she’ll be lying in bed, otherwise she might faint. I can’t wait to see the look on her face. That smile that makes her eyes light up. That blush that reddens her cheeks and neck. Damn, I love making that woman happy.
Caden gets recognized by one of the nurses and we stop so he can say hello. I look down the hall into Elizabeth’s open doorway, my heart pounding with excitement.
I catch a glimpse of movement, her pink pajamas slowly moving past the doorway as she makes her way to the bathroom. She looks up and catches my eyes.
She smiles.
Caden laughs behind me and I start to turn around to see what’s so funny when I see Elizabeth’s face become filled with fear. She puts a hand on her belly and closes the door. Before I have a chance to process it, the call light for her room goes off at the nurses’ station.
Oh, shit. Maybe her water broke.
“Wait here,” I say to Caden, right before I race down the hall alongside Abby.
I burst into her room to find the bed empty. I walk to the bathroom. “Elizabeth!” I shout through the door. “Are you okay? What is it?”
I hear her faint sobs though the door.
“I . . . I don’t feel very good.”
“Are you bleeding? Did your water break?” My heart is pounding thinking of what is happening on the other side of this door. “Can we come in?”
“Who’s out there with you?” she asks.
“It’s just Abby and me,” I tell her. “What’s wrong?”
I hear the water turn on and then off. Then she cracks the door and looks out at us. “I’m not bleeding. But I don’t feel well. My stomach hurts. Maybe I ate something bad. I don’t know. But I’m sick. I think I need to lie down and sleep.”
“You need to come out and let us check you over, Elizabeth.” I turn to Abby. “Please go get the ultrasound machine.”
“Can you shut the door, please?” Elizabeth asks her, wiping the corner of her eye. “I look a mess. I don’t want anyone to see.”
“Of course,” Abby says on her way out.
“Come on.” I hold my hand out to her. “Let’s get you back to bed.”
As we pass the door, Elizabeth strains her head to look out the small window. God, if she only knew who was out there. Damn it. I can’t bring him in now, not with her feeling ill. And I can’t tell her about him being here either, it would only make her feel bad that he came all this way for nothing.
Abby comes back in with the ultrasound. We quickly do the sonogram and confirm the baby is okay and the placenta is intact. I take Elizabeth’s vitals, and although her heart rate is slightly elevated, everything seems normal.
I hook her back up to the fetal monitor and she lies on her side, pulling the sheet up to her chin.
“I just want to sleep,” she says. “Can you please turn off the lights and make sure nobody disturbs me for a while?”
“Yes. We can do that,” I say. “Lie on your left side. And have me paged if you feel any worse or if anything changes. Okay?”
She nods. Then she closes her eyes tightly like she’s wishing something away.
It kills me to think of her in pain. “Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“I really just want to be alone and rest,” she says.
“I’ll check on you later then.”
As Abby and I walk back to the nurses’ station, I ask her to keep Caden’s visit a secret. I don’t want Elizabeth to get wind of it. Maybe I’ll be able to get him back another day.
“Caden, I’m sorry, the patient I invited you to see has gotten sick and can’t have visitors.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says. “Maybe I could send some stuff over instead. You know, a jersey, a couple of signed pictures. You said her name is Elizabeth, right?”
“Yes. That would be great, man. I’d really appreciate it.”
After he leaves, the nurses stand around and swoon over him. I roll my eyes. Maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t get to see her. I sure as hell don’t want Elizabeth swooning over anyone.
Not unless that someone is me.
Chapter Twenty-six
I spent the better part of the afternoon down in the ER, having been paged for a consult. Dr. Anders and I attended to a few pregnant women who were involved in a car accident.
By the time I make it back to check on Elizabeth, there is a package waiting for her at the nurses’ station.
I pick up her chart, relieved to see no new notes after I’d left her. I grab the package and head to her room.
The lights are back on and when I peek through the window, I see her sitting up and reading. I knock once and open the door.
“Feeling better?” I ask.
“Much,” she says, putting the book on her tray table. “What’s that?” She eyes the box I’m carrying.
“Guess you’ll have to open it to find out.”
She cocks her head to the side in disapproval. “Kyle, I wish you wouldn’t—”
“Just open it, Elizabeth,” I say, putting the package next to her on the bed.
She opens it slowly, thinking it’s from me, no doubt. I’ve never seen a woman so hesitant about getting gifts. I mean, she doesn’t seem to want handouts from anyone, least of all me. It makes me wonder how she’ll react when she finds out about the baby shower.
There’s a card inside the box, sitting on top of some tissue paper. I peek over her shoulder and read it.
Elizabeth – sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet when I stopped by earlier. I hope you are feeling better. – Caden Kessler #8
Her hand comes up to her mouth to muffle a gasp.
“Caden Kessler was here to meet me?”
She looks up at me not in excitement or giddiness; she looks up at me in . . . horror. “Oh, my God, do you know him, Kyle?”
“No, I don’t know him. He’s a friend of a friend. I wanted to surprise you.”
She looks pale. I remember how she was scared to meet Baylor at first, too. Maybe she’s just embarrassed to be seen lying in a bed wearing pajamas.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t meet him.”
“No, it’s okay. Actually, I’m glad. I’m not one of those obsessed fans who wants to meet ball players, you know. I’m sure there are lots of women who’d want that. Not me. I’m happy to watch the games and cheer them on, but I don’t want to meet them. God, no.”
I laugh. “Elizabeth, I hate to break it to you, but you are an obsessed fan. Are you sure about not meeting him? Because I could probably get him back.”
Once again, she gives me that deer in headlights look. “I’m sure, Kyle. Please, don’t try to bring him back.”
“Fine. I was just trying to do something to break up the monotony. Something to make you happy.”
“I don’t need him to make me happy,” she says, looking sad. “I just need . . .” her voice trails off as she looks into my eyes, then she shies away and looks out the window.
“What, Elizabeth? What do you need?”
My words draw her gaze back to me and we share a moment. A moment of what, I’m not sure, but I think it resembles something like a moment of need. Her needing me. Me needing her. Us needing this.
I want nothing more than to sit on her bed and take her in my arms. I already know what it feels like to be in hers. What it feels like to have her touch me, run a hand down my back. Speak soft words into my ear.
Hell, I want more than to just take her in my arms. I want to kiss her. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone so badly before in my life.
It’s fucking crazy. She’s pregnant. She’s so pregnant, she’s about to pop. Yet she’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.
I have to reel in my emotions. Get control of myself. She’s my patient. The other stuff—if there is any other stuff—will have to wait. I’ve got a million questions to ask her. There aren’t enough flavors of Jell-O to find out everything I want to know about this woman. But damned if I’m not going to try.
Later. After the baby comes. Maybe then she’ll be more amenable to letting me help her.
I nod to the package. “Are you going to open it, or what?”
She carefully removes the tissue paper and pulls out one of those onesie baby outfits. She turns it over and sees the #8 on the back. She traces it with her finger and then brings the onesie to her chest, hugging it.
I get the feeling this might be the first piece of clothing she’s gotten for the baby. I have to hold in my chuckle, knowing she’s having a girl. Then again, knowing Elizabeth and how obsessed she is with baseball, she’ll only be too happy to dress her daughter in such things.
She unpacks the rest of the box, pulling out a ball cap, an adult-sized jersey also with his name and number on it, an autographed picture of Caden, and four box seat tickets to a late-season game.
She looks at the tickets hungrily. Then she hands them to me. “Why don’t you take these,” she says.
“What? No.” I point to the date on the tickets. “You’ll be fully recovered by then,” I say. “Sleep-deprived, but recovered.” I laugh, pushing the tickets back to her.
“I don’t want to go,” she says, clearly lying to me. “I prefer to watch the games on TV.”
“Keep them,” I tell her. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
She tucks the tickets back into the box along with the rest of the things he sent over. She puts the lid on it and runs her hand over the box longingly. Then she places it on her side table and looks back at me. “Dr. Lawson came to see me earlier.”
“Gina?” I ask, surprised.
We haven’t crossed paths for days. And I haven’t figured out yet if it’s me who’s avoiding a confrontation, or Gina. I need to have the conversation with her. She knows something’s up. I think she’s known for a while. But I owe it to her to be honest. I need to tell her it’s over.
“She was asking all kinds of personal questions about what I’m going to do after the baby comes. Things like where I’m going to live and how involved the baby’s father is going to be. Non-medical questions. It was strange, she was trying to make it seem like she was doing her job. She even had my chart and looked to be writing stuff down, but Kyle, I got the distinct impression her visit was anything but professional.”
Shit.
“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her.”
“No, don’t. She likes you. I can see that. I think she was just trying to, I don’t know . . .”
“Size up the competition?” I ask.
Her eyes snap to mine. It’s the first time either of us has really acknowledged this, whatever this is. Other than the mutual bite of blue Jell-O we shared last week.
“Am I . . . competition?” she asks.
“Do you want to be, Elizabeth?”
She rubs her hands across her belly in thought. I wish I knew what was going through her head right now. I damn sure know what’s going through mine. I haven’t ever held her in my arms. Haven’t kissed her. Hell, I don’t even know where she lives, or where she grew up, or what the name of her first pet was. But one thing is for sure, I don’t want her leaving the hospital without me.
“It’s a lot to think about, Kyle. Can we just take this one step at a time?” she asks.
I nod in agreement. “Yeah. We can do that,” I say. “Let’s make sure this little one arrives safely. The rest can wait.”
“The rest,” she whispers under her breath.
Then she looks up at me and smiles.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I try to schedule my time so I can pop in to see what Elizabeth thinks of her baby shower. With the increasing number of cases Dr. Redman has assigned me to, it’s been harder to spend the hours per day I was spending with her just a week ago.
I’m happy my attending has decided to quit punishing me for my father’s indiscretions. But at the same time, being sentenced to spend my days with Elizabeth was the best kind of resident torture.
I’m relieved when I hear nothing but delightful conversation and laughter as I make my way to the end of the hallway. I was worried she’d be upset by the outpouring of their generosity.
“Did you know about this?” Elizabeth asks with a smile when I walk into the room.
“I plead the fifth,” I say with a wink. “Plus, baby showers are for chicks.”
Several small stuffed animals are thrown at me by my sisters-in-law.
“They are not,” Baylor says. “You should have seen the combined shower our friends and family had for Skylar and me.”
“It was epic,” Piper says, laughing at the memory. “They even hooked some guys up to a machine that simulated labor. It was hilarious.”
I shudder thinking of it. Definitely for chicks.
I look around the room to see what they’ve brought her. I know they were only planning on bringing a few things to the hospital. They didn’t want her to have to take much home. They told me they were hoping to have the rest delivered to her apartment.
I just wonder if that will happen. Will she tell them where she lives? Will she tell me?
I see several small outfits that could be used for either a boy or a girl. There is one of those Snugli things that allows a woman to ‘wear’ her baby on her chest. The largest thing in the room is an all-in-one car seat/stroller that looks like the Cadillac of all strollers.
I’m glad they didn’t overwhelm her with gifts. All in all, everything they brought her could easily fit in the under-compartment of the stroller. But Elizabeth is smiling. That must mean they haven’t yet told her about the garage full of other crap Baylor has accumulated for her.
“You’ve all done so much,” Elizabeth says sadly, looking down to fiddle with her chunky bracelet. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“See, that’s the thing about friends,” Mallory says. “You don’t have to repay them.”
Elizabeth shakes her head. “It’s so much.”
“You realize we were just going to give this stuff away or donate it, right?” Baylor asks.
Elizabeth looks at Mallory, who is about
as pregnant as she is. “But Mallory is about to have her first child. She needs all this stuff, too.”
Mal laughs. “Do you know how many baby things Chad’s mom has sent to us? I think we’re going to need to get a bigger apartment just to accommodate all of it.”
Elizabeth nods in acceptance. “Well, thank you all. I’m not sure how I would have gotten through these weeks without you.”
The words she spoke were meant for everyone, I know. But she was looking directly at me when she said them.
My pager goes off. It’s not an urgent page, just some labs I’d ordered that came back. Either way, it’s a good excuse to leave them to their party.
“I’ll check back on you later, Elizabeth,” I say, walking out the door.
She calls me back. “With all your new patients, I bet you haven’t eaten all day, Kyle.” She reaches into a Sal’s container and pulls out an egg roll. She puts it on a napkin and holds it out to me. “Come on, I know it’s your favorite.”
Five pairs of eyes watch as I cross the room to take it from her. Five mouths curve up into a smile as I bite into it on my way out the door.
“Wait,” she says, before I get very far down the hallway.
I turn around and put my hand up to catch the fortune cookie she threw at me before it hits me in the head. I laugh, sticking it in my pocket.
“Seriously?” I hear someone say as I’m walking out to the nurses’ station.
It’s the voice I’ve dreaded, coming from the person I’ve avoided for the past week. I turn around. “Hey, Gina.”
“Do you really mean to tell me your sisters-in-law and their friends are throwing your homeless patient a baby shower?”
I look down the hall and hear more laughter coming from the room at the end. “It looks that way,” I tell her. “And for the umpteenth time, she’s not homeless.”
“Really? That’s interesting coming from the guy who had to list his address on her hospital forms because she doesn’t have one.”
I give her an incredulous look. “How in the hell did you know that?” I ask.
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