Forgiven (This)

by J. B. McGee

  I keep my eyes on the road, thankful that I’m driving and don’t have to make a lot of eye contact with her. “Yes.”

  “How far along is she?”

  “Seven months or so.”

  “And what’s going on with her?”

  “She’s bleeding, apparently a lot.” I can feel royal blue eyes boring into the side of my head. I quickly turn my eyes to my mother and back to the road. “What does that mean, Mom?”

  “Could be several things.”

  “Any of them have a good outcome?” Silence. No answer. I look back over to her. “Mom...”

  She turns towards me. “I’m sorry, son.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know that the baby is mine.”

  “Oh?” she asks curiously.

  “Yeah, long story that I don’t want to rehash right now. I just feel guilty because up until a few minutes ago, I had hoped this was all a big nightmare that would just go away.”

  She reaches over and rubs my knee, but doesn’t say a word. How do you respond to that? The rest of the car ride is spent in silence, for which I am very grateful.

  I’ve been to this hospital many times, but I’ve never really been to the Labor and Delivery part. We rush in and I immediately go to the desk to get assistance.

  “I’m here for Veronica Johnson.”

  “Yes, she just arrived not too long ago. Are you her husband?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Oh, but you’re the father?”

  Shit. It would look really crappy for me to say I don’t know. I just nod. I can’t say the words. I can’t verbally claim this child. Not yet, at least.

  “Come with me.” She motions for me, but glances towards mom. “Ma’am, we are going to need you to wait here in the lobby until Ms. Johnson is more stable.”

  I look back to mom. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  She quickly gives me a hug. “Bradley, can I do anything for you right now?”

  “No. Thanks, though.”

  She nods and gives a fake, helpless smile as I walk through the double automatic doors. As much as I hate she had to find out like this, I am so relieved and comforted to know she is here. I’m relieved to have this off of my chest.

  A hospital hall has never seemed so long in all of my life. Not that I’ve been in a lot of them. Our family wasn’t just blessed with financial wealth, but also with incredibly healthy genes. I briefly think of Gabby and her family. I guess it’s good that at least one of us has a healthy family history. I realize this is really the first time I’ve thought of her since I left the office. Well aside from Mom asking if she knew about the baby. It makes me feel guilty to know that I’ve been so pre-occupied with another woman, even if Gabby does know about Veronica. This all just feels so wrong.

  The lady who has been helping me since I got here, looks to be in her late sixties. She’s a short, stout, black lady wearing scrubs. She stops and takes me to an area that looks like an emergency room, but more comfortable and cozy. Finally we reach a cubical that has the curtain opened, and I see Veronica asleep in the bed. She is very pale. She has multiple IV’s. It looks like one has some kind of clear fluid going through it, but the other has blood. Damn. She’s lost so much blood she needs a transfusion. She’s also hooked up to another monitor. I hear a steady beating. I am standing here in complete and utter shock. What in the hell has happened to her?

  I turn on my heel to see if I can find someone to give me answers. I almost run into a young nurse. She can’t be much older than Gabby. “Oh, excuse me,” she says. I can see her cheeks blush. I’m used to that reaction. I’m not in the mood for giggly girls who fumble around words because they think I’m hot.

  I point to Roni. “Are you her nurse?”

  “I am,” she says.

  “Is the baby okay?”

  “They are both stable at this particular moment.” She walks to the monitor and pulls the strip of paper. She points to the top line. “This is her heartbeat, and it’s strong.” Her, it’s a girl. “These little hills are contractions.”

  “Contractions? She’s in labor?”

  “We believe that she’s suffered a partial placental abruption. She lost a good bit of blood.” She points to the crimson bag. “So we had to give her a transfusion. We also are administering IV Magnesium and Terbutaline to stop the contractions.”

  “I’m sorry. Most of that sounded like a foreign language to me.” I glance over to Veronica and then back to the nurse. “What is a pla....I’m sorry. What did you call it?”

  “Placental abruption, just a partial we think. It’s where the placenta partially separates from the uterus. The placenta is the baby’s lifeline. If it completely separates, there is a small window to get the baby out safely.”

  I appreciate her patience and answering all of my questions. And as much as I’m trying to remember that I’ve been robbed of the opportunity to be an active participant in this pregnancy because she waited seven damn months to tell me about it. I feel like a douchebag for not knowing what all of this means. I feel like my lack of knowledge is indicative of my support, or lack thereof. “I’m sorry for all the questions. I’m just trying to understand everything.”

  She shakes her head no. “It’s no problem. We’re used to getting asked a lot of questions by dads.”

  I laugh nervously. Nothing about this is funny. It’s almost like I’m watching this play out before me. I feel numb. This is almost too much to handle. I wasn’t ready for this. To be responsible and care for a perfect little, new life. I point to the bags of medication. “And the labor, is that because of the whatever you just called that?”

  I see sympathy in her eyes. “In a lot of cases, the labor starts first, and the abruption is secondary to the labor.”

  “Wow, so she was already in labor...I had no--”

  “Neither did she. She was having back labor. She brushed it off thinking it was stress or her heels.”

  That sounds like Veronica. All things said about her, she’s tough. She’s strong. I shake my head though wondering if this could have all been avoided had she only seen about that instead of being so stubborn. Despite all this information she’s given me, I still don’t know what the future holds for them, for us. “Are they going to be okay? What is their prognosis?”

  “It’s too soon to tell. The medication to stop the labor seems to be doing an adequate enough job. While her cervix has thinned, she’s only dilated to three centimeters.” One of the pumps starts to beep, which amps up the anxiety I’m already feeling. “What is that?”

  “Oh, it’s just letting me know that I need to get her a new bag in a few minutes. No need to worry.”

  I unbutton the sleeves to my shirt and start to roll my sleeves up to my elbows. I need to relax. Even though I’m sure it’s freezing in this hospital, I feel like I’m in an inferno. To think I thought I knew stress before today. “Okay, so it’s good that she’s only three centimeters?” I have heard people talk about women dilating before. I can’t for the life of me remember what the scale is though.

  “Yeah because active labor starts at four centimeters. Fully dilated is ten centimeters. A lot of people will dilate early, not usually this early, though.”

  “Right. And what if those medicines don’t work?” I nod towards those bags again. IV seems like an inadequate term for those lines going into her. Those are lifelines.

  “We have administered a steroid shot to help with lung development in case she delivers early. She’ll need several rounds to get the baby to have the best chance of survival. Worst case scenario, we’ll have to take the baby early by c-section.”

  I cross my arms across my chest and fall back against the wall directly behind me. “So there is still a chance the baby might not make it?”

  I’m amazed at how this young girl can deliver such horrible news to me in the kindest, most compassionate manner. She purses her lips and nods her head in affirmation. She reaches out and places her hand on my forearm. Her t
ouch isn’t like the touch of most women. It’s a sympathetic, affirming touch. “Just know we’re doing everything we can, and as cliché as it sounds, there is no better place she could be right now than right where she is.”

  I close my eyes and look away. When I glance back to her, I give her a small smile. “Thank you for that.” She goes to leave, but I have to stop her. “One more question?”

  “Sure. Shoot.”

  “How long should I plan to be here with her? I mean is this something that she will recover from in a couple of days, a week?”

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I should have been more clear. We’re just waiting on her room. She will be here until she delivers that baby. Unfortunately, for all of your sake, I hope it’s a long hospitalization.”

  And everything in my world halts. I feel so many emotions. I’m definitely not used to this. “Right. Thank you again for your time.”

  “My pleasure. Let me know if I can get you anything to make you more comfortable.”

  “Will do.”

  After she walks away, I drop my head and say a quick prayer for them. I didn’t want the baby to be mine, but I didn’t want any harm to come to either of them. It seems trivial at this point who the father of this child is. The bottom line is that they both need all the support they can get.

  “Hey you,” she whispers.

  I jump up and am at her side instantly because this room or whatever you want to call it is so small. “Hey. How do you feel?”

  She rubs her stomach and eyes the monitor. “The baby’s okay?”

  “Yeah, so far so good.”

  “Well then I’m fine as long as she’s fine.”

  I can’t help but smile. I agree with her. As long as she’s fine, I’m fine. “So you were in labor and didn’t know it?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Me, too,” I mutter as I slide my hands into my pocket and look down. I really do hope this little girl got her mother’s ability to fight and win.

  I wait until Veronica has gone back to sleep to step outside to call Gabby. I had stepped away only briefly a little earlier to let my Mom know to call Dad to have him pick her up and take her home. I wasn’t ready to go through the arsenal of questions that I am sure she’s had nothing but time to formulate. I had no intentions of leaving yet.

  They have moved Veronica to a room, which thank goodness has more comfortable accommodations. I have no idea what my plans are regarding her. It sounds like it’s just a waiting game at this point. I don’t want to leave her alone, but I really don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be.

  I know this will take a toll on Gabby emotionally. I’m sure she’s wondering where I am and what is going on because I haven’t called to check in with her like I normally do during my day. I briefly feel my blood start to boil as I think about the fact that this time for us shouldn’t be complicated at all. And all of this over a child that I don’t even know belongs to me.

  I get up and walk into the hall to the nurses station. I tap the shoulder of Veronica’s nurse and she jumps. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” I smile and look towards the exit. “I need to step outside and make a phone call.” Pointing to my phone I mutter, “No service in here.”

  She nods her head. “Yeah, sucks, I know. It’s no problem. We have monitors out here, so we know what’s going on with her.”

  “I just wanted to let you know I’m not leaving. I’ll just be right outside if anything changes.”

  “Yep. If you’ll give me your cell phone number, I can put it in her chart in case we ever need to get in touch with you regarding their condition.”

  “Oh, that would be fantastic.” She pulls a paper towel and folds it up. I scrunch my eyebrows and let out a small laugh. “How very resourceful of you.”

  She giggles. “Yeah, you learn to write on scraps around here.”

  “It’s 555.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “224.” When I see she’s almost done, I finish with, “5485.”

  She glances up to me. “Got it, Mr. Banks.”

  I can’t even remember if I told her my name. The last several hours are just a blur. No telling what my dad is going to say when he finds out about this. The good thing is he’ll probably have attorney’s here any minute with damn non-disclosure forms to try to keep the press from finding out his son has a potential love child while engaged to another woman. He’ll use this to his advantage to try to explain why I should be with Veronica over Gabby, no doubt. I roll my eyes and turn on my heel, walk through the double doors, take the elevator down, and out the rotating door to fresh air, well smoggy air, but being outside makes me feel free. Like I’m not being suffocated or that my world is collapsing around me.

  I punch in the numbers to call Gabby. She answers quickly. “Hey. Where have you been?”

  “Hey.” I don’t know how to even begin to tell her. “Everything’s fine right now.”

  “Uh. Okay.” She drags out the okay.

  “It’s Veronica, Gabby...”

  “What happened?” I hate that I’m having to do this over the phone. I can hear the disappointment and concern in her voice. “Is she okay? What about the baby?”

  “They are okay right now. I don’t understand it all. Something about the placenta I think they said. It’s partially detached. They need to try to keep the baby in as long as possible.”

  “That sounds serious,” she whispers.

  “It is. They admitted her. She’ll be in the hospital until she has the baby.”

  “Wow.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Are you there?” This phone call is so tense. I don’t know how I expected it to go. I thought that being outside would resolve this tightening in my chest, but it’s not. I realize this tightening in my chest is the wedge that is trying to form. This wedge called Veronica that has been trying to come between me and Gabby.

  “Yeah. I thought I would stay through dinner and make sure she has everything for the night before I leave.”

  “Oh.” There’s a pause and I am at a loss for words. “Do you want me to bring you some dinner?” she asks.

  “Yeah. That’d be great.” She has no idea that it’s not the dinner I want. It’s her closeness. I need her. Like now.

  “Well as soon as I get done with my session I’ll come by. Which hospital is she at anyway?”

  “Emory. Downtown. She was at work when she started bleeding really bad.”

  “Ah. Have you talked to Ryan?”

  I have had so much on my mind that it didn’t even occur to me to talk to Ryan. “No, but that’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll call him and make sure that we’re doing everything we can. Doesn’t hurt either to have connections. Maybe that will make the nurses look after them a little more.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen, call me when you’re close. I’ll meet you outside. Be careful.”

  “What do you want to eat?”

  “You can surprise me.”

  I hear her voice perk up. “Ah, you don’t usually like surprises Mr. Always In Control Pants.”

  It makes me chuckle. “I like you, and you were the best surprise to me. You always surprise me.”

  “Hmph. See you in a little bit.”

  I smile as I look to the sky. I realize I’ve been pacing. My nerves have had about all the fun they can take today. “Okay.”

  “Oh and Mr. Banks?”

  See. I think we’re about to hang up and she surprises me. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t like you.”

  I laugh. “You don’t?”

  “No. I love you.”

  And just like that she wraps me a little tighter than I already was around her little finger. “Love you, Gabby Girl.”

  She hangs up, and I fall back against the bricks on the building. What a mess this is. I have to find a way to explain to Gabby
that I can’t help move her this weekend. I’m not thrilled with that. The disappointment that I heard in her voice on the phone is going to pale in comparison to hearing that. I can’t possibly leave and take a chance on something changing here and me being four hours away. I decide in that moment that I need to talk to Veronica.

  When I walk back into the room Veronica is awake. I watch as relief floods her face. “I thought you had left.”

  “No, I needed to make a phone call.” I pull my cell phone out of my pocket as I sit down and place it beside me on the couch. “This thing has zero service in here. I told the nurse I would be right back.”

  She smiles. “Oh. She hasn’t been back in here since I woke up.”

  I nod. “How do you feel?”

  “Physically or mentally?”

  I shrug. “Both.”

  She swallows. “Physically I feel okay. Just tired. It’s hard to believe there is something wrong because I don’t really feel any different.” She reaches over to the jug of water that is on the tray beside her and takes a swig. “My mouth is super dry.” She puts it back. “Mentally...” She puts her head down and she dabs her fingers on the corners of her eyes. “Scared...” Her voice quivers. “I’m scared,” she whispers through tears as she glances back up to me.

  I look down. “I know.” I cross my legs and fidget with the fabric on the hem of my pants. It makes me smile a small smile because it reminds me of how Gabby fidgets when she’s nervous. Maybe she’s rubbing off on me. Am I nervous, or just extremely uncomfortable with the awkwardness of the situation? I’m not sure how long I can avoid the elephant in the room. “I don’t want to upset you.”

  She furrows her brows. “You’re not upsetting me. It’s comforting to have you here.” She puts her hand on the side of the bed and I’m pretty sure she’s hoping I’ll take it, but that’s not going to happen. “I appreciate you being here, Bradley.”

  “No, I mean I don’t want to upset you with what I am about to ask you.”