At This Moment

by Karen Cimms

  Kate couldn’t speak. She was being sliced in two from the inside out. She grabbed the rail and let out a strangled cry.

  Joey snapped to attention. “Kate. Listen to me. I won’t leave you, I promise. Billy will be here soon. Everything will be fine.”

  His voice faded as the edges of her vision dimmed. Pain, sharp and jagged, tore through her. Lights flashed. She was moving. Fast. Faces swam over her. She tried to focus on just one. When she found it, she gripped his arm.

  “Please,” she gasped. “Save my baby.”

  Joey was on a slow burn, growing hotter by the minute.

  Kate had returned from recovery shortly after midnight. Her eyes fluttered several times. She tried to wake, only to drift off again. He sat beside her, refusing to leave. There was no sign of Billy, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her waking up alone.

  An hour passed before she showed any real sign of life. She squeezed his hand, but it was nothing like the bone-crushing grip from earlier. Her voice was low and raspy. He had to lean closer to hear her.

  “Please don’t be hard on him,” she whispered. “He’s going to do a good job of that on his own. Promise you won’t make it worse.”

  Her lids were heavy with anesthesia. She struggled to keep them open, intent on extracting a promise before she surrendered.

  “You’re an ass, you know that?” The words were harsh, but his voice was soft.

  “I know.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips as she drifted off.

  The later it got, the harder it would be to keep his promise.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Billy opened the front door, trying to be as quiet as he could. Joey’s car was no longer parked out front, and since it was long past three, he was counting on slipping in undetected. The apartment was dark except for the flicker of blue light, and he was afraid Kate had fallen asleep in front of the TV. Instead, he found a strange teenager.

  “Hey,” he called softly, trying not to scare her. “Hey, you!”

  The girl squinted at him, looking confused. When she appeared about to scream, he stepped back and lifted his hands, one of which held his Grammy. “Where’s my wife?”

  “Billy?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Yeah. Where’s Katie?”

  “At the hospital.” She yawned. “What time is it?”

  “Almost three thirty. When did she go to the hospital?”

  “Right after I got here, around six.”

  “What?” he demanded. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Beats me.” She yawned again. “Oh, yeah. Congratulations.”

  He stared at the little gold trophy as if seeing it for the first time and squelched the desire to hurl it against the wall. The only thing that mattered right now was getting to Katie.

  There’d be plenty of time to beat himself up later.

  Getting into the hospital in the middle of the night was a bitch. All the entrances were locked except for the emergency room, and he ended up running halfway around the block. Once he finally made it inside, he argued with four different people on his way upstairs. If he hadn’t been holding Rhiannon, he would’ve busted someone’s head open.

  He expected things to be no different when the elevator opened onto the maternity ward. Instead, it seemed empty. The halls were dimly lit, and all was quiet except for the distant, frantic wail of a newborn. The nurses’ station was unmanned.

  He was pacing anxiously when Dr. Landry came around the corner.

  “Oh, good. You’re here.” She reached up and stroked one of Rhiannon’s golden curls.

  “Where’s Katie?”

  “Follow me.” She gave him a tired smile as she led him along the corridor. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. It was a big surprise.”

  “Two weeks early isn’t that unusual. Of course, we didn’t expect this.”

  His chest grew tight. “Excuse me?”

  “You said you were surprised.”

  “The baby’s here?”

  “Yes.” She looked confused. “You didn’t know?”

  He shook his head. “When?”

  “Around eight thirty. Listen . . .”

  His pulse quickened. “Is Katie okay? The baby?”

  Dr. Landry directed him to a nearby bench.

  “There were some complications.”

  His heart beat harder with every word until it was pounding so loudly, he had difficulty hearing.

  “Kate suffered a placenta abruption. The placenta began to tear away from the uterine wall. She was in a great deal of pain and although she was in labor, she wasn’t dilating. When the baby began to show signs of distress, we did an emergency C-section.”

  He felt dizzy; like he’d somehow ended up in a bad dream.

  “We had some tense moments, but I got him out as fast as I could. His initial Apgar was a little low, but he improved on follow-ups. He’s perfect.”

  “A boy?”

  She nodded. “A beautiful, healthy boy. Kate will have a bit of a recovery, but she’s going to be fine.”

  He began to shake. His voice was barely above a whisper. “How did it happen? I mean . . . her pregnancy. It was okay, right?”

  “It was. She showed no signs anything was wrong at her last visit. I don’t know why it happened. Once she got here, we monitored her and the baby closely, but when we saw he was having difficulty, we decided not to wait. We lost his heartbeat just before we got into the OR, but I had him out in less than sixty seconds.” She stood. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. What you need to know now is that in order to get Kate under as quickly as we did, we had to use a general anesthesia, so she’s pretty groggy. She hasn’t seen the baby yet. She may not even remember she had him. But she’s fine, and so is your son.” She smiled. “I’m sure Mr. Buccacino will heal nicely as well.”

  Nothing was making sense. “What happened to him?”

  “Fainted.” She chuckled. “He only needed a couple stitches. He wasn’t too happy they had to shave the back of his head, though.”

  He held Rhiannon closer. The scent of baby shampoo and a hint of sweet citrus helped slow his heartbeat to its normal rhythm.

  “Kate’s probably asleep. Do you want me to take you to the nursery?”

  “No. I need to see Katie.”

  “Of course.” She escorted him to Kate’s room, then promised she’d see them later that morning.

  The room was nearly dark. He stood at the foot of the bed, his stomach in cramps. Kate lay motionless. A machine beeped steadily, attached to her by tubes and wires. Joey slept in a chair beside her, his head resting on the edge of the bed, his hand over hers. It was a touching scene, except the leading man was all wrong. Angry sobs welled in his chest, but he fought to hold them back.

  Rhiannon whimpered. She rolled her face toward him. The feel of his daughter’s warm, moist breath against his neck was calming. Joey lifted his head. He looked at Kate, and then his eyes narrowed into slits as he noticed Billy. He glanced at his watch, then stood and motioned for Billy to step into the corridor.

  The door closed behind Billy with a soft click. He was about to offer his thanks when Joey turned on him.

  “Where the fuck have you been?”

  Billy’s immediate defense was offense.

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? You know exactly where I was, and you know damn well she didn’t tell me she was in labor.”

  Joey moved away from the door, speaking through gritted teeth. “You were supposed to call, remember? The babysitter said you never called.”

  “I did call. The line was busy. I figured Kate took the phone off the hook because she was mad at me for . . .” He stuck his chin out defiantly. “I called.”

  “You thought she’d be mad why?” Joey said.

  “Nothing.”

  But he wouldn’t let up. “Why? Because you forgot to mention her? Because you thanked fucking Christa and even me, and you forgot to mention your own wife?”

  It was true
. He hadn’t thought he’d win, so he hadn’t thought about what to say. It all happened so fast. He could say whatever he wanted now, but Joey was right. There was no excuse.

  “I fucked up, okay? Happy?”

  “Of course I’m not happy. While you were up there on the stage forgetting Kate, all hell was breaking loose here.”

  “Look, are you done yet?” He wanted Joey to stop talking. He already felt like shit; this wasn’t helping.

  “No. You wanna tell me why you were done over six hours ago and you’re just showing up now?”

  “Not really.” Billy set his jaw stubbornly. What was he going to say, that he’d been pissed at Kate, so he’d used that as an excuse to go out and party? There was no excuse for the rest of his behavior. Joey needed to back the fuck down. He didn’t need another conscience. He had one, and it was kicking his ass.

  “Whatever,” Joey said, clearly disgusted. “You don’t owe me any explanation. She’s the one you have to answer to. Although she’ll just let you slide like usual. But before she does, let me tell you what her night was like.”

  Billy shifted Rhiannon into his other arm. “Make it fast. I wanna be with Katie.”

  “I’ll take as long as I want.”

  “You’re lucky I’m holding my daughter.”

  “Don’t threaten me. I’m so pissed right now, you should be afraid of me!”

  Part of him wished Joey would beat the shit out of him. What he had to say, however, was worse than any physical beating.

  “Kate’s contractions were bad, and the pain was excruciating. She squeezed my hand so hard I thought she’d broken the bones in my fingers.”

  Billy snorted. “Is that when you passed out?”

  “Go ahead, make jokes. At least I was here.”

  Another kick in the gut.

  “Did Dr. Landry tell you what happened? Did she tell you that they lost the baby’s heartbeat, and because they only had seconds to spare, she had to start cutting before Kate was fully under anesthesia?”

  His limbs had gone rubbery; his arms shook. Joey reached for Rhiannon. He let him take her, afraid he might drop her.

  “Do you have any idea how close—,” Joey’s voice broke. He waited a second before he continued. “Do you have any idea how close we came to losing both her and the baby?”

  It was becoming difficult to breathe.

  “Where were you?” Joey’s voice was plaintive and full of questions, questions he could never answer.

  “I called.” He tried to swallow. Whatever was stuck in his throat wouldn’t budge. “Not right away. There were pictures, interviews, but within a half-hour or so, I called. The line was busy. It was after ten, and I knew you were with her. She never talks to anyone that late, so I figured she was mad.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I thought she’d taken the phone of the hook, so I got even more pissed, especially after . . .” His mouth snapped shut. It all began to make sense. Christa. That fucking bitch. She’d played him, all night, with every move. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm the rage that was rising up within him. When he could speak again, he continued.

  “Everyone went to the party at Sirenic, and part of me was feeling great because I’d won and the other part was pissed because I thought she’d blown off going with me and had taken the phone off the hook. It was stupid. I get it.”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “Doesn’t know what?”

  “She doesn’t know you didn’t mention her. She couldn’t hear you.”

  All he wanted was to be with Katie, but he remained standing in the hallway, paralyzed with guilt.

  “Here.” Joey handed him the keys to his BMW. “Give me your keys. I’ll take Rhiannon home and put her to bed. Go be with Kate.”

  Billy handed Joey his keys, then kissed his daughter.

  “Hey,” he called quietly as Joey made his way down the hall. “Thank you.”

  “Yeah,” Joey answered, his voice flat. “Whatever. Congratulations.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Several minutes passed before Billy could bring himself to go back inside. He was afraid to face her. Afraid she’d take one look at him and know. But once inside, once he got a better look at her, the hot shame of guilt crystallized into cold, jagged fear.

  He watched, motionless, until he was certain he saw her chest rise and fall. She was breathing with the help of oxygen. Her arms were arranged stiffly at her sides. Her long, dark braid and the life-giving blood snaking its way through an IV into her hand were the only spots of color on her pale, still form. Her skin was waxy, and she seemed small and insignificant against the whiteness of her surroundings. A blanket covered her swollen belly. No longer ripe with promise, it resembled a lopsided pumpkin.

  It was all wrong. Kate didn’t sleep like that. Lying on her back made her feel vulnerable. If she wasn’t on her stomach, she was curled into the curve of his arm. That was where he wanted her now. He wanted to feel her breath on his chest, to know he could protect her.

  The feel of someone else in his arms made him shudder. It was as if his body were trying to erase the memory from earlier that evening. Beads of sweat bloomed at his temples. He tore off his overcoat, yanked off his tie, and tugged at the top buttons of his shirt. Swallowing the urge to vomit, he gripped the bed rail and sucked the air like it was pure Colombian Gold.

  Kate looked so fragile, like she might shatter. He ran a finger down her arm. It was cold. She hated being cold. When he couldn’t find another blanket, he placed his jacket across her chest, careful not to disturb the thin tube attached to her arm or the zigzag of wires snaking out from under her hospital gown.

  “Is she awake yet?” A nurse moved silently to the opposite side of the bed. He shook his head.

  “You must be Mr. Donaldson. I’m Delia. Congratulations.”

  “I should’ve been here.” His voice was thin and reedy.

  “She didn’t want you to miss your big night, poor thing.” She finished checking the monitors and IV, and then went to get another blanket.

  When she returned, Billy tucked the blanket around Kate, then waited while Delia slipped a band on his wrist identifying him as the baby’s father. His finger traced the words on the bright blue bracelet. This meant more than that statue mocking him at home—and he’d missed it.

  He reached beneath the blankets and found Kate’s hand. Then he leaned against the bed rail, closing his eyes. The nausea that choked him could have come from any number of things—a lack of food, too much coke and champagne—but he was betting it was guilt. He’d been thinking with his dick and his ego. He was terrified what it might cost him.

  Christa had paraded him around like he was Slash, Eddie Van Halen, and Yngwie Malmsteen rolled into one. The next great rock guitar god—no one had been fooled but him. She introduced him to the biggest names in the record industry and convinced him they were as enthusiastic about his career as she was. She not only fed his ego, she made sure the Cristal kept flowing along with the high-grade cocaine.

  What he really was, he realized too late, was her trained pet monkey.

  While he had been hidden away in a back room with his pants open and the most powerful agent in the business on her knees, the girl he loved more than anything in the world was being sliced open like a ripe mango. A chill ran through him as he tried to shut out the image of Kate, terrified and alone on the operating table, while he— Oh holy fuck.

  He rubbed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes. A kaleidoscope of sparks swirled beneath the lids. He staggered into the bathroom and puked until he thought his stomach would come up next.

  When it stopped, he leaned against the sink until he could breathe. He rinsed his mouth, careful to avoid his image in the mirror. Night was fading. From the window in Kate’s room, he could see thin pink threads of daylight along the horizon. He couldn’t ever remember being so afraid of the dawn.

  Unable to stomach his reflection in the glass, he returned
to Kate’s bedside just as she began to stir. She coughed, then groaned. Her eyes fluttered. It took a while before she was awake enough to recognize him.

  “Congratulations,” she rasped, her voice low and gritty.

  “You, too.” He lowered the railing. Leaning over, he kissed her and caressed her face. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice catching.

  “For what? For having the best night of your life?” She tried to swallow, but it seemed painful. “I’m so proud of you.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t. Not without you. You shouldn’t have let me go, Kate.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “What?”

  “You’re angry. You never call me Kate unless you’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad. Not at you.”

  She struggled to keep her eyes open. “Is the baby here?”

  “Yep.” He sniffed. “It’s a boy.”

  “Who does he look like?”

  “I haven’t seen him. I wanted to be with you.”

  “Can we go see him?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe they’ll bring him here.”

  “Please?”

  He kissed her again. “Okay. I’ll go find him. I love you, Katie.” His voice was going to give out on him. “You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Always.” He slipped his fingers between hers. “I’ll always love you. As long as I live.”

  “Stop.” She ran her tongue over her dry, cracked lips. “You’re scaring me.”

  “I just wanna make sure you know.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  The halls of the maternity ward were coming to life. Gone were the hushed tones that had greeted him earlier. Rather than one lone baby’s cry, he heard a dissonant chorus. Outside the nursery, he searched the rows of see-through bassinets until he found the one he was looking for.

  The guilt that had a choke hold on him earlier grew even stronger when he saw his son. It felt as if his heart were about to break in two.

  By the time he returned with a nurse and his baby in tow, Delia had Kate sitting up. She even had a hint of color in her face, which was still pinched from pain and exhaustion.