“Er?” Reese’s voice was soft, and it nearly made me cry again.
“I’ll be right out.” I tried to clear my throat of emotion, but it broke over the words.
“Oh, peas …” He moved farther into the closet, he could almost see me.
I snapped. “I said I need a minute. Just … get out, Reese.”
My voice was colder than I wanted it to be, and he took a step back as I turned my face away.
“I can’t see you cry? Oh, that’s right. Forgot, you’re the woman with ice in her veins.” Now it was his turn to sound harsh, but the undertone was hurt, that I wouldn’t let him comfort me.
“I can fall apart and put myself back together all on my own, thanks. I’m not a damsel in distress. I need a damn minute, and then I’ll be out.”
Looking down, I wait to hear the door click. But a second later, after I hear no shuffling of feet or knob turning, I look up.
Only to see Reese coming straight for me. Before I can react, his lean, strong arms are around me, pulling me into his chest. He’s taller than I am, by a foot or so, and if I wasn’t wriggling like a caught fish, I would fit nicely into the crook of his neck and shoulder.
But I am. Struggling that is. “I said I didn’t need your comfort, Reese.”
My voice breaks and I scold myself for letting anyone see me like this. I’ve only allowed him to witness my tears on one other occasion, and that was when I found out my parents were getting divorced.
“And I don’t care.” He’s stronger than I am, and pins me against him.
“Let go of me, Reese. Please.” It’s a plea, and I know I’ll break if he doesn’t turn around and leave right now. I don’t want to be vulnerable, I don’t want him to be my knight in shining tinfoil.
“Stop pushing me away. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you. Right here for you.” His hazel eyes meet mine, and then he hugs me into him.
His warm, strong chest, the softness of his T-shirt pressing against my cheek, I am too weak in this moment to do anything but give in. I sob, whole-hearted belly sobs that shake my body silently. So deep, so utterly sad for my sister and my niece and my family, that the despair swamps me. I don’t know that I’ve ever cried this hard, not even over my parent’s marriage dissolving.
Reese just cradles me, kissing my hair periodically and whispering that everything is going to be okay.
“How do you know?” I hiccup between sobs.
It’s Nancy Kerrigan-esque, I should basically start bleating “Whyyyy?” but he simply holds me up and lets me empty my tear ducts on his shirt.
After a few minutes, I collect myself, wiping my eyes and snot on the back of my hands. And once I have, I back away, wanting to squash any vulnerability I just showed him.
“Don’t do that, I know you too well.” Reese is usually a laid-back guy, but his voice commands respect in this moment.
Am I a horrible human being if that turned me on? When my sister’s life is in turmoil, I’m standing in the middle of a hospital, and he is the man who used to be a boy that saw me pick my nose?
“Then you know me well enough to know that I would never willingly do that in front of you. You should have left.” I turn up said nose … which I definitely do not pick anymore.
All at once, he is not the Reese I know. Some dominant being occupies his body, his eyes turning hard, all of his muscles locking up as he walks me backward, and my butt bumps a supply shelf. I’m acutely aware now that we are hiding out in a broom closet in the middle of this hospital, his hospital.
And even though it’s so wrong, I shouldn’t be focusing on my inner-horniness at a time like this, a little jolt of electricity travels right down to South Florida.
His arms bracket my head, trapping me. His eyes pierce mine, and I can see a restrained swallow travel down his throat. There is so much sexual tension in this small space, I feel like the cleaning products are going to start exploding. We’ll be making out while covered in Windex and Clorox.
But just as Reese dips his head, actual sparks almost shocking us as if we are both conducting static, he stops himself. Straightens. Touches his palm to my cheek.
“You should get back to Morgan. I’m going down to check on the baby. I won’t leave her side, I promise.”
And just like that, he turns, leaving me standing amongst the janitor’s supplies, with blue balls and more emotional anxiety than I came in here with.
Twenty-Four
Reese
Working a night shift may throw off your internal clock until it felt like jet lag was pulling you under, but I kind of enjoyed the quiet hours on the floor.
Most nights, the babies slept and there was only crying for food or a diaper change. Some of these shifts, I did get an emergency or two where one of the babies would stop breathing or need extra attending, but all in all, night shifts were actually quite nice.
Halfway through my rounds of cleaning up each babies’ crib area, putting away unneeded towels and stocking diapers, wipes and medicine, I saw her sitting there, in the rocking chair, just holding her daughter’s tiny hand.
I walked overly quietly, trying to be respectful and gauge if I should approach her. Just as I’m about to turn away and give them their moment, Morgan turns and smiles a small smile.
“Hey, Reese’s Pieces. Come on over and see Carina.” She lays her other hand over her daughter’s stroking it.
Of course I’ve seen Carina. I’ve been rounding on her for almost a week, and I’ve been giving special attention to her case. Nagging the doctors, trying to get Preston to see what he can do to treat her faster and allow them to get discharged. But even I know it’s going to be a while. Babies who are born at twenty-eight weeks don’t just get to go home.
“Hi, Carina. It’s nice to know your name,” I say when I walk over, looking through the plastic incubator walls. “How are you doing?”
Morgan glances up at me for a split second, and then it’s back to her daughter. “We’re okay. Tired, fighting, but I’m just so glad she’s made it so well this week, Dr. Graham says she’s doing better.”
Preston had been personally helping with Carina’s case, because I’d asked. “There is no better hospital or doctor you could find to help her get stronger and get out of here. I promise.”
Morgan’s eyes become misty, and I know she’s hurting. “I know that … but it still doesn’t help at all. I’m still bitter and feeling responsible. I feel robbed that I don’t get to have her in my room, that they cut her out of me and I couldn’t lay her on my chest. I feel like a failure as a mother, and I’ve only been one for a week.”
She begins to sob, and I go to her, allowing her to cry into my scrubs. This is the side of the NICU that I hate, although I know it’s necessary for me to have a job. Seeing the mothers break down, or try to be extremely strong for the babies, it’s torture. But I’ll be here, especially for Morgan, who is practically family.
“You’re doing an amazing job. You’re here for her, in the middle of the night. A person wouldn’t do that if they weren’t an amazing mom.” I hug her back.
She sniffles and collects herself, looking up. “Thanks, Reese. It’s good to have you in our corner.”
“I’ll do whatever I can.” I turn to check on some more of the babies, but really just to give her more privacy with Carina.
“Sit with me?” She looks up at me, hopeful.
It’s quiet, and I’m right here if anything happens. Right now, this is the most important job. “Sure.”
Morgan pats my knee as I pull up a chair. “So, you want to marry my sister, huh?”
I gasp and choke on my spit. This was not about me comforting her, it’s a reconnaissance mission. “You Carter sisters, Jesus.”
“Come on, you knew I knew.” She smirks.
“Fine, firing squad. Ask away.”
Morgan shakes her head. “This isn’t an interrogation, don’t worry. I’m just happy, you should know that I’ve always wanted this. Girl and boy bes
t friends, my ass. I know you’ve crushed on her since the first time you saw her. The only one too blind to see it was Erin.”
“I guess the jig is up, huh?” I hang my head, smiling.
She looks at Carina, at her tiny finger. “When are you going to put a ring on it? Because we can both drag her down the aisle kicking and screaming if we team up together. She’ll thank us in the end.”
I shrug, unsure. “She still doubts everything about love. About a relationship … especially one with me. She hasn’t straight out said it, but I know it has to with your parent’s divorce. She has this idea that love isn’t real and that even if it is, she knows me too well to feel that way about me.”
“Even though you’ve kissed.” Morgan tips her head to me, as if to say that yes, she knows everything.
“Even though we’ve kissed.” I grin.
“I think you need to push her more. Break her out of that ice bubble she’s freezing in. You guys were made for each other, honestly, I’m glad you made a stupid pact when you were fifteen, just so that it could pan out now and finally make you guys be together in the way that you always should have been. Oh, and when you do go pick a ring, she wants a round cut diamond with a halo of diamonds around it, plain rose gold band.”
Morgan turns back to Carina, and I know I should get back to work. “Thanks, Morg. It means a lot.”
“Just go make a bride out of my sister. She’s always been yours.”
Twenty-Five
Erin
I spend the next two days with Morgan and Jeff, fetching whatever they need, helping her work her breast pump, grabbing them lunch in between shifts to see their little girl in the NICU. It’s a gruesome schedule; pump, eat, sleep, visit the baby. And by the exact time they finish one of those, it’s literally right onto the next.
They’re exhausted and run down, Morgan has a freak out every hour, and the doctors and nurses are concerned that she is going to fall into a postpartum depression. I have barely seen Reese, he’s been working doubles and triples to make sure he fulfills his promise to Morgan and me to be there for our baby girl at all times.
It’s been such a whirlwind that I haven’t even given anymore thought to the pact, even though I’m clearly in it now. We never talked about what was about to transpire on the beach, before we got the call about Morgan, but something changed in that closet. I needed him, and as much more than a friend.
Morgan was sitting in her hospital bed, a hands-free pumping bra strapped around her while those boob shields sucked and sucked at her nipples. It looked fucking painful, and there was just little droplets of milk coming out. This mom thing was for fucking warriors.
“Have you guys decided on a name yet?” I wanted to talk about something positive, to try and pull her out of the sadness that consumed her.
She nodded, the smallest of smiles creeping over her features. “Carina, that’s her name.”
“Carina.” I smiled, “I love it. She is a total Carina.”
“She is. I went to see her last night while Jeff was sleeping. Just sat with her for a while, and she actually gripped my pinky.” Morgan is glowing, and I can just hear that all-consuming love for her daughter in her voice.
I hand her a half of a sandwich, knowing that she’s probably forgotten to eat today but she needs to. “She’s a fighter, my niece. The strongest baby in that NICU. The strongest baby ever, really.”
“I just want to hold her.” Morgan frowns, and I know we’re veering back toward despair.
“You will, so soon. Right now, she’s getting all of the love from you earthside that she possibly can. She just wanted you to see her extra early.” I’m overly gooey these days, something I would usually hate, but actually don’t mind if it makes my sister feel better.
“Reese sat with me for a while last night, too. I thank God that he works in there, that we have someone on the inside to help us feel better and tell us the truth. If this had to happen, at least we have him.”
I nod, his face in the closet looming at the forefront of my mind. “At least we have him.”
“He was talking about you.” Morgan looks coy.
“I’ve been sitting here for twelve hours and you are just now bringing this up?” I huff, going into annoyed sister mode.
Morgan shrugs. “I was trying to figure out if I should actually tell you.”
She pauses, and I circle my hand for her to continue. “Anddd?”
“He wants to marry you. He flat out told me.” Morgan looks at me, daring me to say the same.
“Well, I guess the word about the pact is out, then.”
She turns off the pump, disconnecting and handing me bottles. “I already knew, he knew that I knew.”
“Well, marriage definitely isn’t something that I’m ready for.” I get up, going to the sink to wash the used pump parts.
Sisters can always tell when you’re lying. “Stop lying, Erin.”
See?
“Reese and I had a nice long talk about exactly how he feels about you, and I told him he should hound you until you give in because you two are meant to be together. Everyone knows it. You know it, even though you’re too stubborn and cold to admit it. Just give it up, Er.”
I dropped the bottle parts, still facing the sterile hospital sink, too chicken to face her. “I can’t just give in that easy. Marriage means something different to me. And so does … divorce.”
Morgan is quiet for a moment. “Is that what this is about? Mom and Dad? That’s why you haven’t given any guy a chance? Erin …”
“Don’t give me the tone that says you think I’m stupid or overdramatic for thinking that.” Now I turn, scowling at her.
She pats the bed, telling me to sit down. “I thought that way for a while too. But after a month or two of grieving and being angry, I realized some things. You may not have seen it, but Mom and Dad were not perfect together. They may have given off that impression, but they avoided a lot of arguments and fights by glossing them over. That doesn’t work, not in marriage and not in life. You can’t just daydream away the problems … believe me, they tried and it came back to bite them. Passive aggressive is no way to be in a relationship, and it ultimately ended theirs. No marriage is ever perfect, that’s your first mistaken thought. Jeff and I fight all the time. Hell, look at what just happened to us, and he’s my fucking rock. It’s how you love that matters, not if it’s perfect. And Reese Collins, damn, does he love you. Don’t walk away from that because you’re an idiot who thinks love only exists in a Disney-movie sense.”
“Don’t call me an idiot, jerk.” I shove her shoulder a little bit.
But her advice weighed heavy on my mind. Maybe it was about time I gave up the ice-cold bitch routine and traded it for happiness. After all, Reese was the only boy who could give me butterflies the way he did.
* * *
Two days later, I’m tapping away at my desk, reviewing and revising one of the writer’s articles, when Katie sits directly next to my keyboard, commandeering my personal space like I don’t matter.
“So listen, I was think about your blog.” She’s almost shouting on the open floor of the newsroom, and I want to strangle her immediately.
Would I go to prison if I stabbed her in the hand with a pencil? She’s technically invading my property as she combs through my cup of pens.
“No.” I practically bark it, so over-tired and stressed from this week in the hospital.
I’m at my wit’s end with my life. Why do I continue to settle for shitty situations, when I can just swallow my fears and go for the shit that I actually want?
My blog is making more money than this place now.
I keep trying to deny that Reese is the man who I’m supposed to be with, and always has been.
“Excuse me? Wouldn’t want to go and ruin anything, Erin …” She’s grinning, a snide smile that I want to slap off her face.
She thinks she has me cornered. Thinks I’ll bend to something else that she wants just so I can k
eep my side hustle. Thinks she has me cornered and that I owe her to keep her quiet.
“You know what, Katie, you’re a snake.” I push back from my desk, standing as my chair rolls into the middle of the floor.
Her piggish nose flares, and she rears back like I’ve actually slapped her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Erin.”
I wave my finger dangerously close to her face. “No, don’t say another word to me. There are some very choice words I’m actually holding back right now, because I am trying to remain as professional as possible, but you are a brown-noser. You are one of those women who likes to step on other women and laugh while she does it. And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of this whole place.”
What I really want to do is tell her to go fuck off, but everyone is already watching my freak-out in the middle of the office and the least I can do for myself is not curse. Katie was the last straw on my camel’s back, and she just broke it. After everything with my niece, Reese, trying to hold down two jobs while getting my blog off the ground, I was bone-tired.
I didn’t want to be here one single second more. Marching into Mike’s office, I tried to take a calming breath. It didn’t help much.
He looks up, his gaze landing right on my boobs. Christ. “Mike, I’ve worked here for almost six years, I’ve put in my time even when I was overlooked and under-utilized. And today, I’m giving you my notice. Actually, I quit. I won’t be working my two weeks. You can mail my last paycheck home. And now that I’m not officially you’re employee, I can say this … you’re a pervert who sexually abuses his female employees every single day. And they’re all too scared to report you because they need money to live, and you’re a pig for preying on that.”
And with that, I turn, gathering the few personal effects from my desk as my coworkers look on in shock and amusement, and then march my way out.
My head is held high, and it feels like a baby grand piano has been lifted off my chest. I’m scared out of my fucking mind, but right now, that feels like a good thing.
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