“I might get Cass or someone to help,” he said quickly, “so, you’ve got a daughter.”
“We have a daughter,” I corrected, smiling at her. She had fallen asleep, her little mouth in the shape of an O. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Gently, I touched her mop of dark hair. For such a little girl, she had a lot of it. I could see a lot of me in her, particularly her eyes, and her mouth.
“Is she…Did she have any problems, being born so early?” I asked tentatively, hoping my little girl hadn’t needed to struggle through anything without me by her side.
“She had breathing problems, but that has fixed itself. For being nine weeks early they said she was very well developed,” he explained.
That would be right. I smiled at her, tears blurring my vision. My little miracle girl could get through anything.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Simon
“Daddy!” Maddie shrieked, almost bowling me over, throwing her arms around my legs. Leaning down, I kissed her cheek, ruffling her curly hair.
“How’s my little girl?” I asked, smiling.
“Good,” she chirped, taking my hand, “how’s Emmy? Is she better yet daddy?” Sitting on the sofa, I pulled Maddie onto my lap.
“She’s much better. She said to give you a big kiss,” I said, “Mwah,” I said as I kissed her again as she squirmed in my arms.
“Oooh, no daddy!” she giggled, “when can I see Milbella again?”
“Mirabella,” I chuckled, correcting her, “she’s coming home tomorrow honey. I will stop past with her.”
“Mommy said you’re staying here?” Maddie frowned.
“Hi Simon.”
I looked up at Claire who had just walked in.
“Hey,” I smiled. Turning back to Maddie, I pointed to a picture she had drawn over on her crayon table. “Why don’t you do a picture for Emma?” Maddie’s eyes lit up. She scrambled off my lap and raced over to the table.
“What should I draw, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Why don’t you make her a card to help her get better,” I suggested. Maddie nodded excitedly. Claire rolled her eyes at me, handing me a can of soda.
“So I went shopping, and got some necessities. I still have some of Maddie’s things from when she was a baby, portable cot, and bedding.”
“You do?” I asked surprised. I had no idea she’d kept any of that stuff. Claire colored.
“Yes, well I did hope to have more than one child, Simon. It just never…eventuated,” she finished. I felt awkward talking to Claire about this. In fact, since our deep heart to heart, every conversation with Claire felt awkward.
“So Emma met Mirabella today,” I said, changing the subject. Claire looked surprised.
“Really? Wow. How did that go?”
“Well, probably as well as it could’ve gone,” I added, “one look and she was smitten,” I smiled, remembering the expression Em wore when she first saw our baby.
“That’s great news, Simon. You’re still staying with us for a few nights? I’ve made up the spare room and put the portacot in there,” she added.
I hesitated briefly, trying to shrug the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. Emma would hate that I was staying here. On the other hand though, it had been years since I’d taken care of a newborn and even then it was never alone.
“Sure,” I nodded, telling myself it was for Maddie. It was her birthday next week and I still felt so guilty about not being around much the last few weeks.
“Here,” she said, throwing me a key, “I told you that you’d need it again someday,” she joked, her expression unreadable. What the hell did that mean? The night I officially left her, before we had mended our friendship for Maddie’s sake, I’d given her my house keys and moved out. She’d begged me to keep them, saying I’d want the again one day. I stood up, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“Simon, I didn’t mean…I was only joking,” Claire flushed. I waved my hand, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Its fine, Claire. I will see you tomorrow.”
As I lay in bed, I thought about Emma and how she felt threatened about Claire. Then there was Claire’s comment this evening. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was something to Em’s concerns.
The funny thing was for so long I’d hoped things between Claire and I would repair themselves. It wasn’t as though I fell out of love with her after the affair, it had taken months for me to accept that we just weren't meant to be together.
Meeting Em, I finally felt as though I had really moved on. I finally felt something for someone else. Did I still feel something for Claire? Sure, I felt love on some level for the mother of my child. However, it was nothing compared to the love I felt for Em. Nothing could ever match that.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emma
I sat forward, gasping for air.
My first nightmare since I’d come out of the coma and it had nothing to do with Moosly. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d dreamt about something other than the attack. This was no less frightening though. I had dreamt I was unconscious. People were talking around me but I couldn’t rouse myself to speak back.
I pressed my buzzer. It was just after midnight and now I was pretty sure my night’s sleep was ruined. I wondered if I could go and see my baby.
After waiting a few more minutes, no nurse appeared. Knowing it was a bad idea, I pulled one foot from under the warmth of the covers and set it on the cold vinyl floor, followed by the other. Grabbing my IV pole, I put my bathrobe over my shoulders and set off down the hall.
The first problem I encountered was that I had no idea where the nursery was. Eventually I stumbled upon the elevator at the end of the floor. Once inside, I made my way down to the ground floor, where I was able to look at the guide. It was only then I realized I hadn’t taken note of my room number or what floor I was on.
Crap. At least I now knew the nursery was on level two, west wing. I’d walked for less than five minutes and already I was exhausted. Not only that, the panic of not knowing how to get back to my room was beginning to rise. I found it interested that I was more panicked about not knowing where my room was than I was about being out of my room.
Something I hadn't even thought to ask Simon was exactly how much progress had I made with my agoraphobia over the past few months? Based on my feelings right now, I’d have to say quite a bit. The nervousness was there, but it wasn't the only thing on my mind. I walked back inside the elevator, pressing the button, letting myself out on level two. I followed the signs to the neonatal nursery. That’s where I guessed she was, being premature, but for all I knew she could have been in the normal nursery.
I passed a large room with a huge window. Inside was what could only be the neonatal ward. The door was guarded by two nurses sitting at a desk. I looked around. There was no other way in.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the desk. The younger of the two nurses looked at me curiously.
“Are you lost?” she asked me sympathetically.
“Well yes,” I admitted, “my daughter is in here. Can I see her?” I asked hopefully. The younger nurse eyed the older one. “Please. I-I was in a coma. I only met her yesterday,” I added. Her face softened.
“Emma, right? Mirabella’s mom?” she asked. I nodded. Did everyone know who I was?
“Come in. we’re not supposed to be doing this,” she shot me a look, “and as far as I know you shouldn’t be wandering the halls at this time of night, especially after your type of surgery.”
I blushed, feeling like a kid who had skipped school and gotten caught. I followed her into the room. The few babies I could see were all hooked up to various machines. We passed one baby, a little girl judging by her pink blanket, who could have comfortably sat in the palm of my hands. Her skin looked so thin, so tender.
“Eleven weeks premature. She was born earlier than your little one, only this
little girl has had a barrage of issues, from underdeveloped lungs to a heart infection and kidney failure,” said the nurse sadly.
“Will she be okay?” I asked, watching as her tiny heart worked to pump blood through her body.
“We don’t know. Even if she does survive, she will most likely have developmental issues and health problems,” she smiled gently at me. “You're very lucky, Emma. Mirabella was remarkably well developed for such a premature delivery. She might have some breathing issues such as asthma, but apart from that she should be a healthy, normal little girl.”
The nurse stood beside a crib and inside I could see Mirabella sleeping. Sitting down on the chair the nurse had carried over, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Her hands were so tiny, her little fingers would struggle to grasp around the width of my pinkie finger. Her lip trembled as she breathed out as her eyes twitched.
I couldn’t believe this. No matter how often I said it to myself, seeing my little baby in front of me made me want to cry. All the worries I had of not bonding with her disappeared as soon as I was near her. I’d do anything for her, anything.
I sat next to her watching her sleep for what felt like hours. I’d been dozing off in the chair when her little cry woke me.
“Do you want to pick her up?” asked the nurse gently. I jumped, not noticing her approach. My heart thumped as I nodded and reached into the crib and lifted her into my arms. Her head rested comfortably in my elbow. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell.
“Can you take a picture?” I asked the nurse shyly. She laughed, grabbing the cell from me.
“Smile,” she said, as she snapped the camera. I took back the cell from her outreached hand and slipped it back in my pocket. “I let the nurses on your ward know you were here, too.” She added, winking.
I nodded, not able to take my eyes off the little face that was now staring at me. What was she thinking? I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. The nurse handed me a bottle.
“Do you want to feed her?” she asked. I nodded, taking the bottle. “Just hold it slightly upwards, she will suck on the teat,” she added, as if she sensed my uncertainty. I did as she said, Mirabella latched on quickly, much more confident than I was. I giggled as she slowly emptied the bottle. There was definitely nothing wrong with her appetite.
“I can’t breastfeed, can I?’ I asked suddenly. The nurse shook her head.
“You would have been given medication to dry up your milk supply to prevent infection,” she replied.
“Oh, okay,” I said, cradling her in my arms, smiling at her every little movement.
“I’m going to insist you go back to bed now, Emma,” I nurse said sternly. I nodded, handing Mirabella back to her.
“Uh, where exactly is my room?” I asked, red faced.
“Hold on for a moment,” she said, amused. She came back over with a wheelchair. I started to argue, but she shot me down. “Humor me, Emma. I don’t want you collapsing on the walk back.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, sitting down in the chair. Not that I’d tell her, but I was exhausted. I was secretly glad she was forcing me to ride this thing back. As she wheeled me off, I stared at Mirabella’s crib until I couldn’t see her any longer.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Simon
“Make sure you burp her after you’ve fed her,” Em warned, “and if she cries, check her nappy first.”
“Em. You forget that I’m the one who had done this before, not you,” I chuckled. Em groaned, shaking her head.
“Simon, I’m not convinced of how much you actually did for Maddie when she was a baby.”
“Ouch,” I cried. That was a low blow. Em poked her tongue out at me and giggled. God it was good to see her smiling again.
“You’ll be home with us before you know it, babe,” I added softly. “Oh, I almost forgot,” I said, reaching into my bag. I pulled out the iPad I’d brought for Em. “Thought you might get some use out of this.” She squealed, hugging it to her chest.
“Thank you!” she cried as I laughed.
“We will see you tomorrow, okay?” I asked, leaning in so she could kiss both me and Mirabella goodbye. “Love you,” I murmured.
Claire wasn’t home when I opened the front door. I breathed out, not even realizing that I’d been hoping she was out. I still wasn’t convinced staying here was the best move for me, but something was holding me back from saying no and that scared me.
While Mirabella slept in her stroller, I decided to get a start on dinner. All the ingredients for a stir fry were in the fridge, so I decided to go with that. Just as I was frying the chicken off, I heard the front door open.
“Daddy!” screeched Maddie, running full force into the kitchen.
“Shh,” I whispered, but it was too late. Mirabella began to scream at the top of her lungs. For such a tiny little thing she sure could yell.
“It’s okay Maddie,” I soothed, picking Mirabella up and rocking her. Maddie looked as though she was going to burst into tears. I knelt down and called Maddie over. She walked toward me slowly, her eyes not leaving her little sister.
“She’s so tiny,” she whispered.
“So now you use your inside voice,” I teased her. We both looked up as Claire walked in. She smiled at me, walking over to the stove to rescue the chicken.
“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, “Somebody distracted me,” I added, nodding toward Maddie.
“Go sit down with them,” Claire laughed, waving the spatula. I took both my girls into the living room. Sitting on the sofa with Maddie next to me, I gently eased Mirabella into Maddie’s arms. She stared down with wide eyes, as if she were unable to believe this little person was real.
Mirabella finally fell asleep, not even waking when I placed her in her crib.
God I was wrecked and it was only eight thirty. Either I was getting old or I had forgotten how hard the parenting thing was. Creeping out of the room, I pulled the door over, leaving it open an inch so I could hear if she woke. Back out in the living room, I collapsed onto the couch.
“Here,” Claire smiled, handing me a glass of water. I took it gratefully. “You look exhausted.”
“I am,” I admitted, “was it this hard with Maddie?”
“Yes,” chuckled Claire, “you were just too busy with work to notice,” she added, joining me on the sofa. I tried to ignore the way her hand brushed past my leg as she sat down.
“I wasn’t around much, was I?” I said, a pang of guilt ripping through me. “I could’ve been a much better father…and husband.” I was determined to be different this time around, both a better father and husband. I was done with putting my work first.
“We all have regrets,” Claire finally agreed. She smiled wistfully, her hand weaving through her long blonde hair. “Or at least, I do,” she added softly, taking a sip of her wine. She glanced at her glass, then back at me.
“Shit, sorry Simon. I didn’t think-.”
“Its fine, Claire,” I smiled, “I can handle people drinking in front of me.”
“Do you ever feel like just giving in?” she asked softly, fingering the rim of the glass.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Not often. After I was fired from the university and I couldn’t see Em, I felt so low, like I couldn’t be there to protect her, you know? I was so fucking worried that Moosly was going to track her down once the media got a hold of the story. All because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants,” I shook my head and laughed bitterly. “I remember sitting in front of the TV, a shot of whiskey in a glass on the coffee table. I must’ve stared at it for about ten minutes. I couldn’t do it though. I picked up the glass and threw it at the wall.”
“What stopped you?”
I glanced at her, a half-hearted smile on my lips. “I’d let so many people down in my life, I didn’t want it to happen again. I was no use to anyone back then,” I added.
We sat silently, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I didn’t speak either because I wasn’t sure w
hat to say, or because nothing needed to be said. Instead, I stared at the television, thinking about how much my life had changed in the past few months.
I thought about how one small thing can change the course of our lives in such a huge way. What if Em had emailed me on any other day than the anniversary of my dad’s death? Chances are I wouldn’t have embarked on the relationship in the way that I did. Thinking back to those first few weeks of our relationship, some of the things I did made me cringe. Calling her in the middle of the night?
Why she hadn’t run for the hills then and there I don’t know.
“What are you thinking about?”
I looked up, surprised. I’d actually forgotten she was sitting there. I flushed slightly at being caught lost in my own thoughts.
“Just how one tiny thing can shape our lives,” I murmured, still thinking about Em. I lay my head back on the sofa, turned toward Claire and smiled.
Her lips met mine, her kiss raw and vulnerable. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. I coiled back in shock, not quite believing that what had just happened actually just happened.
“What the fuck was that?” I growled, both confused and annoyed that she would go there knowing how in love I was with Em. “Tell me, what the hell were you doing?” I demanded, standing up. Was that who she thought I was? Even at my lowest point, that was something I would never have done.
“Simon, I’m sorry,” Claire said desperately, jumping up, knocking her glass of wine over in the process. “I thought that you wanted-“
“My fucking fiancé is in hospital Claire,” I hissed. “Why in god’s name did you think I’d be okay with that? Have I ever given you any indication that I wasn’t completely committed to Emma?” I challenged. Claire was sobbing by now, her hands covering her face.
“Please Simon,” she begged, grabbing at my arm. I shrugged her off and shook my head.
“I think I should go.” I muttered.
“Don’t be silly. I made a mistake. Maddie thinks you’ll be here tomorrow, she’s expecting to spend the day with you,” she added desperately.
Incredible Beauty (So Many Reasons) Page 11