“Are the cramps regular or erratic?” Paul asked, his question calmly refocusing the conversation.
“Erratic,” she gratefully answered, instead of answering Cody.
“Okay, Duane will meet us in the ER,” Paul said. “Like old times, right, Poppy? You’re used to hanging out in the ER. Good news though, we haven’t had a shooting in ours. Duane even checked.”
The pains stayed erratic for the car ride, much like Paul’s conversation, she thought between being terrified. He was trying to keep Cody from saying anything else or pushing her, she knew, and she appreciated his efforts. The ride was giving her time to think and reprioritize.
Her weakness at the house angered her, as it was the response of the old Poppy. She’d been giving up. With the men, she could have been okay with that eventually, but her babies were a different story. No matter what happened with their fathers she didn’t want her babies to be gone. The selfish, self-indulgent crap had to stop. There were others to think about. Two little girls relied solely on her.
Cody’s arms tightened around her, and she wondered what he was feeling. He continued petting her hair, and his other hand rested on her stomach. She couldn’t make herself look at him, not when everything was bubbling inside her. The cramps, Trevor’s words, and her own insecurities made his expression too important, and she was a coward. She refused to take the chance his face held quiet acceptance or relief.
The contractions had eased back some by the time Paul pulled into the ER entrance, where she saw Duane already waiting with a wheelchair, his huge gray parka as identifying as a neon sign. She let the dads help her into the chair but wouldn’t meet Cody’s eyes. He tried to get face to face but Duane shooed him away and quickly wheeled her into the hospital.
“I’ll call Michael and Trevor,” she heard him call, but she was relieved when Duane ordered him to go to the waiting room instead of following to the exam room.
Hooked up to IVs and machines an hour later, she was miserable, but feeling somewhat better in the comfortable hospital bed. Cervix activity was being monitored but showed no dilation, and the babies weren’t showing any signs of distress. The IV in her arm itched and burned even after the nurse put an ice pack over it, but she couldn’t work up the desire to complain. She knew there was nothing else the nurse could do.
Duane continued to bar the brothers from her room. More and more she could hear them protest from the waiting area. Loudly. She knew the decision for visitors was usually the doctor and patient’s call, and most doctors would have okayed the father’s presence, but Duane hadn’t asked. Instead he told her he wanted her to relax, something that wouldn’t happen if the three “yahoos” as he called his sons came barging in.
The hospital was nice but she grew tired of spending time in the beds, no matter how nifty their remote controls. Between the days in San Antonio and now Morris, she had more time racked up hospital beds than her new one in her townhouse. Duane’s hospital was up-to-date with all the latest equipment, thanks to private donations, but she didn’t want to be a long-term guest. She would stay to keep her babies safe, but she wanted to go home, wherever that was.
“Those boys would be a handful to any woman, but add in some illness, fatigue, and Lord, hormones, and it’s more than anyone could expect to handle,” the nurse said as she looped a new bag on her IV stand. The older woman with Susie stitched on her scrub top had the love of nursing Poppy wished she possessed. It was one thing to be good at a job, but in Susie’s every move, Poppy saw a woman who loved her work, and it was a comfort. “The Parabys are a wonderful family. Very loyal to the people they love.”
Poppy nodded but wasn’t sure about the love part. Even after Cody’s harried confession on the way down the mountain, she couldn’t forget Trevor’s passive face not long before. The nurse was right about their qualities, just overestimated her place within their affection.
“Know how I know those young men love you?” The nurse turned her pillow to the dry, blessedly cool side. “Each one of them hates this place and can’t stand blood, needles, or illness. Duane was heartbroken when he realized none of them would follow in his footsteps. During Mary’s mastectomy and chemo treatments they stayed a few minutes at a time, and we all know how much those boys adore their mama. They are near blows with Duane to see you. Paul and Thomas better get here quick or there’ll be blood.”
“They wouldn’t—”
“Back the fuck off, Duane. I have to tell her I’m sorry!” Poppy nearly jumped out of the bed at Trevor’s shout. “I was a dick, and she got sick because of me. If something happens to her before I can tell her how sorry I am, I’m getting in my truck to drive off a fucking cliff.”
Poppy tried not to hyperventilate at his announcement. The idea of Trevor, any of them, doing something so drastic made her heart clench in desperation.
“Calm down,” the nurse commanded. “Let Duane handle this. Look at you, your heart rate skyrocketed and all my good nursing’s going to be for naught if you throw up. Pant it out, honey.”
A basin and towel were pushed on her lap while the nurse looked at a chart too thick to be the one they’d started at her appointment the week before.
“Well, bite my foot,” the nurse said. “Ulcers. Young lady, what was causing you ulcers at seventeen years old? Well, that explains it. I’ll talk to the doctor for confirmation, but ulcers and gas can make for real convincing pseudo-contractions.”
“What?” She blinked away the horrible images trapped in her head of the SUV going off the other side of the mountain, and groaned when the nurse’s words sank in. “Of course. Fucking ulcers.” She started at the uncharacteristic curse, shooting the nurse an apologetic look.
“It’s bound to happen eventually if you spend time with Trevor.” The nurse laughed as she checked vitals again. “That boy can curse a room blue in under a minute. It’s amazing how knowing what the problem is can help make a person feel better, isn’t it?”
Poppy nodded, though she felt ready to throw up or cry, maybe both, at any moment. “Could you let Trevor in for a minute?”
“Will it make you settle more?” Her smile was full of motherly comfort.
“Well, I can’t think of him driving off a cliff,” she replied, rubbing the goose bumps from her arms at the thought.
“Okay. I’ll get him on my way out. Buzz, if you need me before I get back. Ask for Susie,” she said after one final check. “The other girls…well, just ask for Susie.”
She managed a laugh and knew she was under the best of care. Susie was a good nurse, and Poppy felt safe knowing she was looking after her and the babies. The ulcer made sense. She’d been craving milk products since her pregnancy. The same cravings had led to flare-ups during college.
She’d been under immense family pressure in those years. Her grades were scrutinized and always found lacking. Every other Sunday before family brunch she would collapse into a crying, screaming panic attack until she’d finally seen a therapist. Therapy helped for a while, but when her father found out he was livid and refused to pay the medical co-pay. He suggested she talk with the religious studies professor at his college if she needed advice and counseling. She’d never gone.
Between the ulcers and panic attacks, she somehow managed to get through college without spending days at the hospital, and within weeks of finishing school and getting her own place, she’d been fine. The issues with Steven started after, which probably explained why she hadn’t thought of the ulcers until the nurse mentioned it.
She’d had her stomach issues under control until she started chugging milk, eating cheese, sneaking ice cream, and all but soaking in stress and indecision. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Susie had no reason to lie about her thoughts on the Paraby family, or their feelings for her. The cramps eased. She knew the added fluid was moving the lactase from her system, and in a few hours she’d be back to normal. Some of the desperate hopelessness she’d been bombarded with was easing, and she felt like she coul
d breathe without shards of pain jabbing her heart.
The sound of footsteps followed the closing door. She opened her eyes briefly but closed them against the room’s brightness before she saw who entered. The footsteps stopped abruptly and a muted curse filled the room, assuring her it was Trevor. Knowing it was him and not an aide or the nurse made her face the discomfort and open her eyes.
He looked like he’d aged ten years in the hours since she’d seen him. She couldn’t mistake the regret and shame in his expression and found she didn’t like seeing him so full of self-loathing, so she mustered up a smile. She’d been afraid of Cody’s face in the truck on the way to the ER. Really, she’d been afraid she would see the same thing Trevor showed earlier—a complete lack of caring, which terrified her because she cared so much about all of them.
He hurt her feelings, and she couldn’t forget that, but she could see remorse in the lines of his face. Turning away from him for making a mistake wasn’t fair. He wasn’t her father, none of them were, and they were offering her a home. It wasn’t perfect, but no family was. They made mistakes, but she refused to be like her sisters and father. In her new family there would be forgiveness when it was asked for. Hormones made her a little crazy, but he deserved better than what she’d been shown in the past. They both did.
“Baby.” His voice cracked like he was holding back tears.
“Hi, Trev. I’m okay,” she promised.
He took a step forward only to stop himself short. “You’re hurt.” His cheeks were as pale as hers felt. “I hurt you at the house. I realized what I said five minutes later, and I ordered flowers. A lot of them because I was such a bastard, but you were already gone. I never want you to feel like you can’t come to me with anything. You were leaving. Hell, I’ll go before I want you to leave the ranch. If you need space from me, we can do that. I can do business in LA, and we’ll try again when you feel better and I’m not so fucking stupid. I want you happy. Tell me what to do.”
“Maybe I could have a glass of water?” Her mouth was dry from the medications she’d received and dust still clung from the airbags.
“That’s it?” Trevor asked, and she saw some of his desperation easing. She didn’t want him to hurt anymore. It didn’t feel right to see him without his smile.
“It’s a start, and maybe you could hold my hand?” She held her hand palm up. “What happened to your eye?”
He gave her a drink first and gently ran a warm towel over her face. “Cody reminded me of my manners. Do you need another blanket or anything?”
“For now, I just want you,” she replied as he made his way around the lines and monitors. He sat beside her, taking her free hand between his big ones. “I’m oversensitive, handsome, and not just in bed.”
That got a smile from him.
“I don’t like my feelings hurt, Trevor. My father thinks it’s okay to use me and order me around like I’m an animal. A dumb animal. I let my family push me around and make me feel inferior. I don’t…that’s not what I want in my new family. I refuse to have that family again.”
“We aren’t like that, baby. I promise. I’m never doing that again. It was a joke in college, the food or fucking thing, but it’s stupid now. You mean everything to me. I love every part of you, and when Michael nails me in the other eye, I’ll deserve it.” With soft kisses to her palms, he reinforced his promises with simple touch. “I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you.” Never once had her father said he loved her, let alone apologized for any of his slights. “And tell Michael I asked him not to hit you. One’s enough, but next time…”
Trevor laughed, like she needed him to. His conscience wouldn’t let him feel bad longer than he needed and she wouldn’t either.
Chapter 11
Plenty bruised, but not broken, Poppy was released from the hospital the next afternoon after starting ulcer treatments. Michael, Trevor, and Cody tucked her in bed in a pair of silk pajamas she’d never seen but had Cody’s preferences all over them. From the feminine pink color to the extreme softness that made her want to cuddle in and never take them off, she felt Baby Boy in every stitch. The flowers Trevor promised were beside her bed, a gorgeous bouquet of her favorite colors. She’d never seen blue roses but wasn’t surprised Trevor found a way to get them in a bundle surrounded by dahlias, chrysanthemums, and mini white daisies.
Chocolates, a bottle of soda, and a new flat screen had also found their way into her room. She wasn’t a fan of TV in the bedroom, but Duane warned he would discharge her only if she agreed to rest so they’d added movie channels. To her delight, a stack of new releases, handpicked by Michael, whose bookshelf she usually raided, sat beside her nightstand. They left her to rest, surrounded by everything they thought she might need, and promised to be within hearing distance if they’d forgotten anything.
When she woke, hours later, the sun was long gone and she wasn’t surprised to see her boys stretched out around the room. She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and surveyed the evening-dimmed area. Trevor was asleep on the sofa, his long legs barely fitting between the cushioned ends. Cody slept on the armchair beside her fireplace, Michael on its match in the conversation area near her bookshelf.
They were good men and having them so protective and near made her feel more worthy and special than she could express. If she did try to explain, they would probably end up going overboard in their attempts to make her feel even better. The thought made her smile.
Spending time in the hospital was rough on them, she knew that from their time in San Antonio. They were such troopers. But before she could feel too sorry for them, her stomach growled fiercely. She tiptoed past all three, Michael letting out a snore as she left the room.
The ever-present scent of baking brought her to Mary’s kitchen. Even though they hadn’t shared a meal since the night she arrived, she didn’t doubt her welcome. The scene that greeted her was one she dreamt of having. Paul was at the stove looking toward the sink where Thomas held Mary, hugging her as she washed strawberries. Duane was setting the table, eyes also on his wife, with a content, happy smile on his face. It was a normal evening, she thought, made extraordinary by the love that pulsed between them.
“Oh, hi, Poppy,” Thomas greeted. She didn’t miss the pat he gave his wife’s bottom before he pulled away.
“No entourage?” Paul teased, moving the boiling pot of pasta to a strainer.
“They’re all taking a nap,” she answered, crossing her arms over her belly. “Last night was rough on them.”
“Hell, it should have been. But they’ll learn, honey. Give them some time.” Thomas pulled a chair out for her. “Sit, sit, you’re still pale.”
“Paul, leave some pasta without sauce,” Duane instructed, setting another place at the table. “Come on, little mama, you can eat supper with us old folks tonight.”
Mary insisted on something better than plain noodles, making steamed rice with a delicious ginger sauce in addition to the fresh fruit and vegetables on the table. The older woman took such pleasure in fussing that Poppy couldn’t help but enjoy herself as they visited and ate. The medications were doing their job, but the more bland food went down easier than anything spicy would have.
They talked and like their first meeting she was amazed at how normal they were. They liked to laugh and knew what was important in their lives. She respected that, because for too long there was nothing to laugh about in her world and her priorities had been skewed. The Parabys weren’t conventional, but they were happy.
Mary cried when Poppy mentioned the baby was actually two and the two were girls. Only hours after the ulcers were diagnosed she felt more comfortable acknowledging the life within her because she was more confident the babies would make it to full term. The men obviously already knew but were thrilled, and she enjoyed watching them watch their wife with such amusement and affection. Mary expressed her joy with abandon, and even Poppy laughed when she jumped up and down.
She had yet t
o see them look at their wife with less than adoration, even when she knew the older woman was driving them crazy. It must be hereditary because she couldn’t remember a time, barring the Trevor incident and she knew that was a fluke, when her men looked at her any differently. After dinner, she offered to help clean, but the men shooed her and Mary off with coffee and cider. They settled in the parents’ living room, a pretty room done in ore reds and mauves. Mary liked red and with her dark hair and eyes, she looked good in it.
“Well, Poppy, it’s just us girls.” As Mary pulled matching afghans from beneath the table, she grinned at her stomach. “Girls! Have I told you how thrilled I am that you’re here? It’s not just having another woman in the house, but having the right woman that is so nice. And not just the babies either, though I’m ecstatic about them. You make my boys happy, and I want to help however I can so you can be happy here as well.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” Wrapped in a blanket, sipping cider, she settled in, a new ease growing between her and Mary. “You have a gorgeous home.”
“It took years to get here. When I married Paul, we were in this same spot but in a line cabin complete with an open floor plan and outhouse. I helped him with the ranch while Thomas started his law career. Now their mother, she was a terror. She adored her boys, but always tried to fix Thomas up with other women.
“I know you don’t know Thomas well, but he’s got a problem saying ‘no’ and it was even worse with his mother. He finally set her straight, and to my everlasting torture, he told her why. She made my life hell until she died, oh almost twenty years ago, but she was a good grandma to Michael and Trevor. Not so much Cody, but I think that’s because she was sure he was Duane’s for some reason.”
“I’d say Trevor would be Duane’s,” Poppy mused.
“Yeah, I’ve always thought so too. They have the same noses and build.” Mary’s overextended nod showed her discomfort, and Poppy wasn’t sure what was changing to make her uncomfortable.
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