by Fiona Murphy
The driver nods as he pulls out his phone. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. There’s one over in Wicker Park or in River West, which one?”
“The closest one is fine.” Amelia is quiet. “Talk to me, sugar.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. He seemed quick to say she has asthma. My nanny had asthma, I don’t remember it being like what Simone is going through.”
I consider it. I had been surprised how quickly he had diagnosed it as asthma too. I was even more surprised by how unconcerned he seemed over how small Simone is. He’d shrugged off Amelia’s worry, telling her not all babies followed the growth chart. “We’ll try the breathing treatments, if they don’t work we’ll go back. We need to at least try, sometimes it’s the simplest things that seem big.”
With a smile she nods. “You’re right. We’re going to go buy a car now?”
“The Ferrari won’t hold a baby seat. We can’t keep cabbing it and using Uber.”
A few hours later we’re home with the prescriptions we had dropped off. Amelia wants to give Simone her treatment as soon as possible before we go see Holly.
We both wait with apprehension to see some sign of improvement. Simone seems a little more alert. I’m not convinced, especially when I remember the nurse telling us to further dilute the solution for the breathing treatment since Simone was small. There was adrenalin in the solution that could be too much for her if we didn’t.
While Holly and Amelia are in awe over Simone, Ethan and I go into his office. “How bad is it?”
He shrugs. “Not bad at all. The woman wants money, she doesn’t want Simone. It will cost you, but I don’t think it will be as expensive as you’re worried about. Valdez has her tracked by the cell phone number you gave, which is good, and he’s got two men on her. He sent over a preliminary report this morning, but it’s by no means the whole story. Theresa only decided to come out now because of Amelia. I don’t think you guys saw the writeup on Amelia the Tribune did after she and I went to opening day to see you play.
“People knew who I was, but I never talked about my parents. I talked about my uncle paying for my education, which was why I set up scholarships for kids. When they went nosing around the firm for info on Amelia, everyone knew Amelia was a trust fund baby. In the writeup they paint Amelia as what she is, a golden good girl from a one percent family, how Amelia doesn’t have to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to.
“Purely supposition, Theresa thinks she’ll get more with Amelia involved, willing to hand over some of her one percent money. Remember, no one knows how much you are worth. With your real estate investments held in corporation away from the baseball money and stock investments we know you’re worth a hundred and thirty-three million. As far as the press is concerned, you’re only worth about thirty-seven million. While that’s impressive and enough to get knocked up for a payout, Theresa saw big dollar signs combining Amelia’s money and the mother instinct. We’re sure it’s why she left Simone for the week, to get you both attached, willing to pay any amount she wants.”
I nod. “I’d give her every dime I ever made to keep Simone.”
“I’m not going to let the bitch get away with a penny more than necessary. She’s trying to grift the wrong fucking family. No. Valdez thinks he’ll have everything we need by tomorrow. His team is almost done retrieving everything electronic, he’ll send over everything on that end tonight. You are listed on the birth certificate as the father.”
It kills me to ask, “What’s her birth date?”
“November tenth, at seven thirty-three. She weighed six pounds two ounces.”
***
Amelia
Simone is starving again. I feel like a bad mom for letting her get to the point where she’s starving. I am feeding her every three hours, but every time after only about ten minutes she gives up. I don’t care if it’s only been a day. The doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about, this isn’t asthma, something else is wrong. It’s almost four thirty, and the office closes soon. Grabbing my phone, I call the office.
The nurse is bored, telling me to give the breathing treatments longer to work. I demand to speak to the doctor, and I get a promise he’ll call back. Fuck this.
“Chris,” I call out to Simone’s room, where he was putting together a shelving unit he bought today to fit all the books he bought her when we went out for lunch. “I’m done. We’re going to the emergency room.”
He comes down the stairs, his worry clear. “Why?” Looking down at Simone, his eyes glow as he touches her face. “What’s the matter?”
“She isn’t eating, she is starving. Those breathing treatments aren’t helping. The doctor’s office isn’t listening. No, not another dang day of this. We’re going to Northwestern emergency room, now.”
“Okay, okay. Get her bundled up and let’s go.”
When we get to the emergency room, it isn’t very busy, which is a relief. I give my name and tell the attendant what’s wrong. She looks at me for a minute before asking if I’m the Amelia Bishop who gifted the hospital with an MRI machine last year. I blush as I nod.
It’s the reason why I wanted to come here, not because I paid three million for a new MRI machine. The reason I bought the new machine was an article about a young mother who went to four different doctors who said there was nothing wrong with her son when she knew there was. Out of frustration, the next time he was ill she brought him here, to Northwestern emergency, and a doctor made the call to do an MRI even though she was low income and other doctors hadn’t bothered, saying it was too expensive. The MRI found the problem and her son was healthier and happier.
We’re whisked into the back in mere minutes. The nurse is friendly but it’s obvious she’s thinks I’m being overprotective. Then she listens to Simone’s chest. At first she is just going through the motions, her actions almost exactly that of the doctor from yesterday. But she goes still, pressing the stethoscope more firmly against Simone’s tiny chest. She writes down something, then listens again with her eyes on her watch. Her eyes don’t quite meet mine as she tells me a doctor will be right with us.
I scoop up Simone, holding her tight, not even bothering to get her dressed again. She’s swimming in the cute long-sleeved pink shirt and matching pants anyway. Under the pants and shirt, she has on a plain white onesie Barbara encouraged me to always have her wear because it was common for babies to get their top clothes dirty, and at least the short-sleeve little onesie would still be clean. They were also easy for days around the house when it was warm.
“I knew it. You saw how quiet she got.”
Chris pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around us. “It’s going to be okay. This is the best hospital in all of Illinois. They’ll figure it out.”
Maybe ten minutes later a smiling Asian doctor comes into the room. “Hi, I’m Louise Jin. I’m a pediatric cardiologist here. I hear you’re concerned about baby Simone. She’s a stunner. May I take her, so I can give her a look over?”
I freeze when she tells me she’s a cardiologist. She’s not a regular doctor. Although I nod, I find it hard to give her Simone. Chris gives me a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, sugar. Let her look at Simone.”
The doctor smiles reassuringly as she takes Simone. My eyes go to Chris, ocean blue churning violently as his eyes meet mine. He nods, understanding my fear. We watch as she runs her hands over Simone. Her method is a replay of Barbara’s the very first day, holding Simone’s tiny hand then running her hands over the small body, then holding on to small feet as her thumb runs over tiny toes. She takes off the stethoscope around her neck, tucks it into her ears and presses it against Simone’s chest. I’m afraid to breathe as I watch. Yet the whole time she’s smiling down at Simone, teasing Simone’s tiny nose, holding her hand. Until she looks up. “It’s a good thing you brought her in. Something is wrong, we need to do more tests.”
“What, what are you thinking?”
“I’m not thinking anyt
hing more than we need to run more tests. There are so many things it could be it’s hard to pick just one. I’m not going to waste time, I’m going to start with an echocardiogram.”
The next hour feels endless. When my phone rings, I see it’s Valdez. Welcoming the break from the waiting. I put it on speaker for Chris to hear. “I have you on speaker, Chris is here. Please tell us you have good news.”
“You have enough ammunition to sink her battleship. She’s engaged to a momma’s boy in Virginia with political aspirations, thinks he’s going to be the next Obama. The guy has no idea who she really is, she told him she’s a nanny and Simone is the kid she takes care of. She also told him her time in Chicago was spent working with inner-city kids. And the kicker, he thinks she’s got money. She told him she comes into her trust fund in less than six months when she turns twenty-five in August.
“The thing is, from the life she had before she came to Chicago, it could have all been true. She was only a fraction of a decimal away from being class valedictorian. She was in her second year at William and Mary when she fell for the wrong guy. Her family isn’t rich though.
Her father was a hometown hero of San Juan, Puerto Rico, a star basketball player who won a few medals during a stint in the Gulf War. He’s retired Army, and her mother is a blue-eyed, blonde German he met while stationed there. You should see the house she grew up in, it has a white picket fence. She did move up her schedule because of Amelia.
“I’ve got a signed affidavit and the receipt for the termination from the hockey player she shook down the first time, and another from the basketball player who called her bluff. The hockey player would prefer the affidavit never sees the light of day, the basketball player doesn’t care. Your friend Angie and two other strippers are willing to go on the record. One of them says Theresa told her she was going to cash out big on Chris. Everything has been sent by email to both you and Ethan. I’ll send paper to follow today.”
“Thank you. We aren’t home, so if you would give both copies to Ethan, I’ll get it later. Thank you so much.”
I cling to Chris in relief. Chris shakes his head. “She told me she never knew her father and her mother was a drug addict. The games people play.”
“We aren’t playing any more games with her. This won’t be a negotiation. I’m going to make sure she regrets the day she ever met you.”
“That’s my cougar.”
When Dr. Jin comes back, she’s carrying Simone out so Simone can see everything as she rocks her. Chris reaches for Simone, and my heart clenches tight to see Simone’s face light up as her daddy reaches for her. Then I look to Dr. Jin and I work to take in a deep breath. “The technical term is ventricular septal defect. In regular English, the wall separating her left and right ventricles didn’t form completely. She is going to need surgery to correct it. The good news is it’s an easy repair, and there are no other defects to be concerned about.”
“How soon?”
“I already scheduled her for first thing tomorrow. Since it’s such a quick, easy repair, I can squeeze the surgery in before the day starts. I need you guys to be here at four, we’ll scrub and start at five. She’ll be out by six, six thirty at the latest. We’ll keep her in for observation for a few days, then you can take her home.”
I throw myself at the doctor, and she’s kind enough to return my hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” She pats Simone on the back. “Bye, gorgeous. I’ll see you soon.”
24
Amelia
As I watch them wheel Simone away, I fight tears. She’s going to be fine. Chris and I spent hours going over Dr. Jin’s history, we know she’s in good hands. It’s the thought of them cutting open my baby I can’t deal with. I crawl into Chris’s lap, and he holds me tight. I’m not really surprised I fall asleep, I only got about two hours of sleep last night. I’m pretty sure Chris didn’t get any. He spent hours looking over every page of the report from Valdez, his fingers running over the birth certificate I don’t even want to know how they got.
Although Ethan and I talked yesterday, I’m not a hundred percent sure what was said. I was still in a daze. I have a game plan forming on how to deal with Theresa, but right now she is the least of my worries.
“Wake up, sugar, Dr. Jin is here,” Chris whispers in my ear.
I come awake fast. She’s smiling, oh thank god. “Everything went very well. A definite success. She will heal faster than you think. You can see her in a few minutes. A couple days under observation to ensure everything is healing correctly, and you guys can take her home the day after tomorrow.”
We thank her, and with a last smile, she’s gone. Chris holds me tight.
We’re arguing about Chris playing tonight. He wants to stay with me. I’m of the firm mind he needs to play. Then he gets a call from management. He told them what was going on, and they were supportive of his need to miss the games in St. Louis. Now one of the other players managed to break his finger during practice, so they need him to play.
“We’ll be fine. You’ll only be gone for a few hours.”
“All right. Give me a kiss.” Seriously, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop loving the way he kisses. It’s everything he promised, primal, wicked, wanton—it’s sex with our clothes on. Actually, I can admit now it’s making love with our clothes on. Our souls meet, mingle and become one every single time. When the world stops spinning, I lay my head on his chest. “I miss you. We have a lot to make up for when we get her home.”
“Yes, we most certainly do.” Chris’s eyes glow as he looks down at me his dimples flashing. I can’t wait.
***
Amelia
I don’t have a whole lot of experience with hospitals, but I’m guessing this is probably one of the better ones. It doesn’t mean I’m not sick of the four walls. Chris has gone out to get lunch when my cell rings. It’s my doctor’s office. They are apologetic, one of the nurses quit and they’ve been behind. I need to come in as soon as possible to get the implant taken out and another put in, or some other form of birth control to still be protected. If I have sex I should be using protection, it’s kind of already a risky time for me. My tummy flips as my hand goes to my stomach, but not for the reason the nurse’s voice is high and squeaky.
“How risky?”
“Well, if you were using the rhythm method based on the timing of when the progestin would have run out, from three days from now, the twelfth for a week any sex you have it’s almost guaranteed you’ll get pregnant.”
“Okay, thanks for the call.”
“Wait, don’t you want to make an appointment to come in?”
“I’m actually going to wait. I’ll call when I’m ready.”
I’m holding Simone’s hand. I hate not being able to pick her up yet, but the stitches were too sensitive to be bothered for another day or two. Chris sets down the bag of sushi, kissing my temple as he greets his daughter. She smiles to see him, wiggling in happiness.
“What’s that look on your face about?” God, he could read from another room.
I slide into his lap, an eyebrow goes up as his arm goes around my middle to hold me close. “I got a phone call from my doctor’s office. They made a slight mistake. The implant wore off. I’m no longer protected. If I want to be I need to run my ass to their office to have another implant put in.” His eyes darken, and he shakes his head. “Or a shot, it’s only good for three months.” He shakes his head again. “I could go on the pill.” He shakes his head again. “Because if you fuck me you’ll knock me up.”
Oh damn, his kiss is fire, burning hot enough to turn my bones to dust. “It’s long past time. I’m going to fuck a baby into you and watch you get big with our love.”
“Yes, please.”
***
Chris
When Amelia tells me about the call from her doctor’s office my cock gets so hard it fucking hurts. The cause isn’t the call, it’s the brilliant green
shining up at me. She’s ready, she wants it, she wants us, forever. I tell myself to pull back, to restrain myself. I can’t. I love the way she doesn’t want me to either, giving up everything to me.
Every fear I had is gone. For months she’s been present in every single day. Hell, I think I’ve read more than she has. Being a baseball wife has ratcheted up her interest in the game. Unwilling to get caught out not knowing who Ernie Banks or Billy Williams is, she took her research seriously, asking me a dozen questions as she watched old games. She has been at nearly every game, only twice not able to travel because of cases she was handling for the legal clinic, then this latest trip because of Holly’s baby due any day.
During this whole crazy last week, she’s been so fucking strong she amazed the hell out of me. A part of me feels guilt for ever doubting her. For ever being afraid she didn’t have what it took to be strong enough to bend, but not break when things got hard. She’s it, my whole life. No more waiting.
***
Amelia
Two days feels like an eternity as Chris and I are slowly dying for the need to find a quiet place to mate like wild animals. Seriously, why the hell is that so fucking hot? We don’t even make it home from the hospital. Ethan calls us as we are getting Simone strapped into the car to tell me Holly is in labor.
Seven hours later I get to hold my nephew for the first time. John Alexander Bishop is kind of perfect. I agree with Holly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a baby boy so beautiful. Ethan rolls his eyes as he hides a smile. When it’s time to leave, I can’t stop smiling at the way Ethan is on the bed holding Holly, looking down at his son in happy amazement.
Chris hugs me to him, and I melt into him, I hadn’t even realized he had come back from the game. He’d left hours ago with a kiss I barely noticed. “Sugar, tears are the last thing you should be shedding right now.”
“I know. I’m happy for them both. Ethan was miserable for so long, he just never realized it. Holly was everything he didn’t know he needed.”