by Jen Gilroy
“I have to find Charlie. She needs me.” Mia broke into a jog and pulled Nick along with her.
Nick matched her steps as he kept hold of her arm. “Here.” He steered her into the waiting room. It had more blue walls, more pictures of bridges, and a row of upholstered chairs, empty except for one.
“Sean?” Mia broke free of Nick’s hold and skidded to a stop in front of her brother-in-law.
He was hunched over in the chair, and his head was buried in his hands.
“Where’s Charlie?” Her heart raced. She was too late. She’d lost her sister, the same as she’d lost her mom.
Sean lifted his head. His blue eyes were rimmed with red, and his face was haggard like he’d aged ten years since the fashion show. “She’s in surgery.”
Mia’s legs went weak and she sank into the chair beside him. “The baby?”
“They’re taking it out by caesarian section. Everything happened so fast they had to put Charlie under. The doctor said she started to bleed because the placenta came away.” Sean dropped his head into his hands again, and Mia wrapped her arms around him. “They wouldn’t let me stay with her.”
“Charlie will be fine.” Mia held back a cry. “The baby, too. Everyone says this is a great hospital.”
Over Sean’s bent head, her gaze locked with Nick’s. Although his face was ashen, his expression was steady and full of reassurance. Mia seized on it, amidst the horror that engulfed her.
“My mom had terrific treatment here.” Nick sat on Sean’s other side. “Charlie and your baby couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Charlie needed me and I failed her.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Mia took a deep breath and gripped Sean’s shoulders. “They didn’t let you stay because it was an emergency. Charlie would have understood.”
“Apart from my son, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Every day, I tell her I love her first thing in the morning and last thing at night.” Sean blinked and buried his face in Mia’s hoodie. His shoulders shook beneath his polo shirt. “Except tonight, I didn’t get a chance to say it. Before I knew it, they’d wheeled her away.”
“Charlie knows you love her. You and Ty are the best things that have ever happened to her, too.”
With Sean, her sister had found the kind of love Mia had never known. An accepting, all-encompassing love she’d pretended she’d had with Jay, but it had been a lie.
Sean raised his head. “You think so?” His eyes were haunted and desperate, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.
“I’m sure of it.” Mia’s throat clogged. Even if the worst happened, Charlie had been loved. She held Sean tighter.
“Charlie loves you more than anything.” Nick’s voice was low. “In my job, I see all the couples that don’t work and the families that fall apart, but the two of you have something special.”
His gaze locked with Mia’s again, and heat rose in her face. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, there was something special between her and Nick. The kiss they’d shared hadn’t been casual or meaningless.
“Mr. Carmichael?” A door to Nick’s left swung open, and a petite woman in green surgical scrubs came through it. Her dark hair was streaked with gray and pulled away from her face in a neat twist. “I’m Dr. Anne Sullivan.”
Sean stumbled to his feet, and Mia and Nick followed. “My wife, how is she?”
“Mrs. Carmichael came through the surgery well, but she’s lost a lot of blood.” Dr. Sullivan’s expression softened, and the lines around her nose and mouth eased. “You have a little girl.”
“A girl. She’s okay?” Sean’s voice was hoarse.
“Yes. She’s about four weeks premature and there may be some issues there, but so far so good.” Dr. Sullivan pulled several sheets of paper from a clipboard tucked under her arm. “We have to airlift the baby to the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center because she requires special care. I need you to read and sign some forms. We don’t have a neonatal intensive care unit here, so we refer cases like your daughter’s to Dartmouth-Hitchcock.”
“In New Hampshire? But Charlie, my sister, she’s here.” Mia’s hands were clammy.
“Your sister can’t be moved at the moment, so I suggest Mr. Carmichael goes with the baby.” Dr. Sullivan held out the papers and a pen to him. “It will be a while before your wife comes out of the anesthetic.”
“I can’t leave Charlie or the baby, either.” Sean took a step forward.
Mia gripped the back of a chair. “I’ll stay with Charlie. I won’t leave her alone for a second.”
“Can I see my wife?”
“Of course. Give me a moment.” Dr. Sullivan patted Sean’s arm, and her dark eyes, framed by bluish-purple shadows, glistened with sympathy. “Try not to worry. Things went as well as they could, all things considered.”
After the doctor had disappeared back through the door, Sean sat on the chair again. “A daughter. I’ve got a daughter.”
“And Naomi and Emma have a cousin,” Mia said. “They’ll be so excited.”
“Ty’s still the only boy in the family.” Nick half-hugged Sean and slapped his back. “Congratulations. What will you call her?”
Sean turned to Mia. “Charlie would have wanted us to tell you together, but in case…” He gulped. “If the baby was a girl, we planned to call her Alexandra Beatrice Mimi. Lexie for short.”
Tears pricked at the back of Mia’s eyes. “Beatrice for our mom and Mimi…” The tears spilled out.
“Mimi for you,” Sean finished, “like Charlie’s pet name for you when she was little. We want you and Nick to be godparents.”
“I’m honored.” Mia bent to kiss Sean’s cheek. “While you’re in New Hampshire, we’ll look after everything here. Don’t worry about anything except Lexie and Charlie.”
“A godparent?” Nick looked back at Mia, his expression tinged with panic. “I don’t know anything about kids. There must be someone in Sean’s family who’d be a better choice and—”
“You have a niece, don’t you? I’m sure Charlie and Sean won’t ask you to change Lexie’s diapers.” Mia grinned.
Except, instead of teasing back, Nick’s expression became so sad Mia caught her breath.
“Of course, I’d be happy to be a godparent to Lexie.” The sadness disappeared so fast Mia wondered if she’d imagined it. “Like Mia said, it’s an honor. You send us a picture of Lexie as soon as you can, you hear?”
A slow smile broke across Sean’s face. “You bet.”
Mia dug in her purse and pulled out a small penguin toy, soft and cuddly. “Take this with you. I got it for the baby a few weeks ago. Charlie loved penguins when she was little.”
“I never knew that.” He got back up and wrapped Mia in a bear hug. “Look after Charlie for me?” His voice was husky.
“Of course I will.” Mia blinked back more tears.
From the doorway, Dr. Sullivan gestured to Sean. “We’ve got the flight arranged and the children’s hospital at Dartmouth-Hitchcock is on standby.” She turned to Mia. “A nurse will come and get you as soon as we move your sister to the ward.”
Mia hugged Sean back before she pushed him toward Dr. Sullivan. Her heart clenched as his blond head disappeared through the door. This was all wrong. Charlie and Sean should welcome their baby together. Instead, by the time Charlie woke up, Lexie would be gone without even a cuddle from her mommy. A whimper escaped, then a sob.
“Hey.” Nick moved closer to her. “Charlie and little Lexie will be fine.”
“You don’t know for sure.” Mia dug in her purse for tissues and yanked a handful out of the package.
“No, but I can’t let myself think they won’t be, either.”
“Charlie should have the baby with her.” After Naomi was born, the nurse had tucked the baby against Mia’s chest, skin to skin and heart to heart, a miracle that had changed Mia’s life forever. “Lexie will be miles away and Charlie can’t even go to her.”
“Lexie will
get the care she needs to come home healthy and grow up healthy.” Nick took off Mia’s glasses and patted her eyes with a tissue.
“My mom…she should be here. Charlie needs her.”
And Mia needed her mom. The ever-present grief she carried deep in her heart overflowed, and she buried her face in Nick’s worn Yale sweatshirt. It was soft and she inhaled his scent, lemon laundry soap and fresh air.
“Your mom was taken way too soon.” He held her close, and the steady thump of his heart slowed Mia’s jerky breathing. “But your mom’s a part of you and Charlie, Naomi, and Emma, and little Lexie, too.”
“Right before she passed, Mom said…” Mia shredded a tissue between her fingers. “She said she’d always watch over us.”
“There you go.” Nick still held her tight. “Your mom was a special lady, and you’re a lot like her.”
Mia tilted her head to look at him. Without her glasses, he was blurry and unfocused. “You mean I made the same mistake she did? I married someone who cheated on me and lied about it.”
“No, you’re like her in other ways, more important ways.” Nick stroked her hair, his touch gentle. “You care about people and you help them, like I remember she did. I’ve seen you with my mom and Kylie.”
“Anybody would have—”
“No, anybody wouldn’t.” Nick traced the outline of her lips. “What about all those cookies and casseroles you made for Mom long before I hired you to help her? What about how you helped Kylie at the fashion show and how you’re as good as coaching her so she’ll learn to swim? And it was you who planted those flowers on the bare patch outside the seniors’ home, wasn’t it?”
“Older folks like flowers. If I lived there, I’d want to look at something pretty.” Mia’s face heated. “As for your mom, she’s a sweetheart. With your sisters so far away, of course I’d help her.”
“Kylie’s not a sweetheart.” Nick’s voice held a hint of laughter.
“She would be if she had the mothering she deserves, and if she’d had a chance to be a normal child in a real family instead of shunted between foster homes for most of her life.”
“See, that’s what I mean. People around here still talk about your mom and how if anybody needed help, Beatrice Gibbs was the first one to step up. Unlike the other summer people, she was a real part of Firefly Lake.”
“Her mom’s family came from here, don’t forget.”
“She could still have turned her back on this place, but she never did.” Nick’s voice was a comforting rumble. “She donated money to local charities anonymously until the day she died. I know because McGuire and Pelletier handles the legal side for most of them, and we see the books from the accountant.”
His finger lingered at the corner of her mouth before he traced the outline of her jaw, under her ear, and along her neck. “Your smile is her smile. Who you are and the way you treat people, always know your mom is still a part of you.”
Mia shuddered when his finger connected with the sensitive spot on her neck she’d forgotten existed. “Nick?” she whispered. “What—”
He dipped his head to kiss the spot and brought her even closer against his hard body.
She closed her eyes and leaned into him.
It wouldn’t hurt to lean on him for a few minutes. Having glimpsed death tonight, she needed to seize the warmth and life Nick offered. His mouth grazed her neck again, and then he captured her lips in a gentle kiss.
A kiss that pushed her right over the edge she’d teetered on for weeks. It wasn’t a kiss fueled by lust, but rather a caress so intimate, tender, and sweet that it undid her. It whittled away her defenses and made her think about what it would be like to trust a man again. And to hope and believe in a future.
Chapter Eight
Nick shifted the bag with a carrot muffin from the Daily Bread into the hand that also held his laptop case and ducked under the awning in front of McGuire and Pelletier. As he reached the door, a woman who’d been friends with Georgia pushed it open from the inside.
She gave him a big smile as he held the door open for her to maneuver a stroller and its blue-clad occupant through the narrow entryway. “You’re sure a dark horse.”
“Me? Why?”
“You and Mia, of course. I’ve already emailed Georgia to make sure she checks Facebook.” Her voice was amused.
“Why should my sister check Facebook? And what about me and Mia?”
“You were never one to kiss and tell, were you?” She giggled, gave him a little wave and continued along Main Street.
Nick’s heart thudded. How could that kiss he shared with Mia at the hospital have ended up on Facebook? He’d stopped, but only because anybody could have walked in. Mia had given a nervous laugh, then taken her glasses from him and mumbled something about fixing her hair before the nurse came to take her to Charlie.
He’d sat in the waiting room long after she left, aching with wanting her, his heart hurting most of all.
“You head right on over.” The voice came from behind the reception desk. It was Lori’s voice, but he couldn’t spot McGuire and Pelletier’s fifty-something receptionist.
A dog barked, and Sean and Charlie’s black lab darted out from behind the desk with a pink ribbon tied to her collar.
“How did you get here, Shadow?” He bent to pat her. “I left you in my apartment. You had the radio, snacks, water, and toys. What else did you need?”
“I brought her downstairs.” Lori disconnected her call and stuck her caramel-blond head out from behind an arrangement of pink and white flowers stuffed into a basket with a pink teddy bear wrapped in cellophane. “I didn’t want Shadow to miss any of the fun.”
“Fun?” Nick handed Lori the muffin bag and scanned the reception area. A gaggle of gray-haired women sat knitting in the chairs where clients usually waited. Coffee mugs and several open cookie tins were on the low table where business and golf magazines were ordinarily stacked.
His second grade teacher, Miss Crandall, waved a knitting needle at him and beamed.
He’d been at the courthouse in Kincaid for a couple of hours on a Monday morning, but his ordered world had flipped upside down. Again.
“What’s up?” He turned back to Lori.
Lori pointed to the picture of Lexie propped against the basket of flowers. The photo Sean had emailed where all you could see of the poor kid was a tuft of dark hair and wires and tubes stuck out everywhere. “You know Ty set up that Facebook group for Lexie?”
“Yes?” Even though he hadn’t seen Lexie yet, Ty was already head-over-heels in love with his baby sister.
“Since a lot of the older ladies aren’t on Facebook, they need somewhere to get up-to-the-minute news about that precious baby.” Lori pushed a box of disposable diapers aside. “Everyone also wants to bring presents, and you can’t do that on Facebook. Since you’re Lexie’s godfather, it makes sense to have everyone come here like a central mission control. I put a notice in the post office earlier.”
“You what?” Surprise made the words sharper than he’d intended.
“Right on the door as you go in. I did the same at the bank, the North Woods Diner, and most of the stores.” Lori gave his hand a soothing pat. “Even the New Vermonters and the summer people are involved. Everyone loves Charlie and Sean, so they love Lexie. You did a good thing to get Mia to the hospital so fast in the middle of the night. It must have been real scary, like one of those TV dramas, and you were part of it. A real hero.”
No, he wasn’t a hero. He’d done what he had to for his friends. The knitters advanced on him like a gray-haired battalion led by Miss Crandall.
“Ladies.”
Miss Crandall enveloped him in a perfumed hug. “Thank you for letting us gather here. At a time like this, the community has to rally together. Do Sean and Charlie need help with the medical expenses?”
“Sean said they’re lucky. Their insurance should cover almost everything, even the air ambulance because the doctor certified Lexie h
ad to go to Dartmouth-Hitchcock. But thanks. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” And if there were any issues with the insurance coverage, Nick would chip in and be the first to organize a fund-raiser.
“We’re filling the big freezer at the town hall with as many meals and desserts as we can so they don’t have to cook when they bring their beautiful little girl home.” Miss Crandall patted Nick’s arm. “We also popped a few things into the fridge here for you and your dear mother. You always look like you need a home-cooked meal, and Gabrielle’s not strong yet.”
“Thank you.” Nick’s throat got tight. He’d missed this sense of community in New York. The caring and connections that went back years, if not generations.
“It was wonderful to see Cat in the fashion show. She looked like a fairy princess in your grandma’s wedding dress,” Miss Crandall added. “We don’t see enough of Cat or that daughter of hers, either. How old is Amy? Ten?”
“Eleven. She’ll be twelve in December.” Nick didn’t see enough of Cat and Amy either. Like he had, his smarty-pants younger sister, Dr. Catherine McGuire, had cut her ties with Firefly Lake and made a life somewhere else as soon as she could.
“Cat called me and she’ll be here again next weekend. She wants to surprise your mom.” A smile tugged at one corner of Lori’s mouth. “She saw that picture of you and Mia on Facebook. She didn’t realize you’d been in the middle of all the action.”
Nick fingered his phone. He needed to escape from these kind, well-meaning women and get to the privacy of his office to check Facebook. “Look, I—”
“Cat didn’t know you still had the hots for Mia.” Lori stacked files in color-coded piles.
Nick gritted his teeth. “Can I have my messages, please?”
“Here you go.” Lori handed over a stack of green slips. In any other office, messages were emailed, but Lori had used the same system for twenty-five years and wasn’t about to change. “Georgia called, too. She got the news about Lexie all the way over in India at her retreat place.”
“Georgia says phones are bad karma.” Once, he and his baby sister had been close, but when she turned eighteen she’d left town to travel the world and, apart from Christmas and birthdays, they were rarely in touch.