Heat rushes up my neck. I take her by the hand, lead her to the balcony edge, and lean against the half wall that surrounds the entire patio space. It reminds me of a castle turret in King Arthur days.
I clear my throat. If I don’t say this now, I’ll forever be kicking myself in the butt for not making things right. “I know that the S word is supposed to be removed from our vocabulary, but I have to apologize for something.”
“No, you don’t.”
I take both of her trembling hands in mine and draw her close to me so I can see her face. “I promised you that I would be patient and kind and not hold a grudge. I assured you I wouldn’t freak out, and that’s exactly what I did.”
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, and her lip quivers. Shit.
“What I did was a complete misunderstanding. But you left me alone when I needed you the most. I needed you to be my strength.”
“I am so sorry. I don’t think I could have hurt you any more than I did. That’s not the real me. There were so many times I wanted to hold you until you cried yourself to sleep, but I was too hurt and stubborn. It’s not a valid excuse.” I rub her shoulders. “I promise you I will never let you down again. Please forgive me.”
She sniffles. “I wish I had told you sooner. I wish so many things. She’s the only thing that kept me going for so many years. She’s been my little ray of sunshine.” Sadness crosses her face.
“Stella is a gift. And I don’t want to lose another minute being angry with you about our precious gift that’s fighting for her life downstairs. I love you, Darla. Please say I haven’t pushed you away.”
She sobs into her hands. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I don’t know if the things we’ve said to one another have made it too impossible for us to fix our relationship. My apology may be too late.
She lunges for me and wraps her arms around my neck so tightly that I’m afraid I’ll collapse from lack of energy and oxygen. But I hold on to her as if my life depends on it.
“I love you too,” she whispers against my neck.
Adrenaline kicks in, and I’m not in the least bit tired anymore. I stroke her hair as we stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Oh, and one more thing,” I murmur in her ear. “That Hangman game was fun. It was a lot of fun.”
She laughs.
I step back from her and remove the crumpled piece of paper from my front jeans pocket. “I’ve got to know. Who do you think sent me all these clues?” I show her the Hangman printout.
“I have no idea who did this.”
“Good, because I think whoever wrote this has a serious case of dyslexia. It says ‘you have a,’ and after that, the next word is all jumbled. I’m assuming it’s supposed to spell out ‘daughter.’”
We both study the clues.
Darla gasps and growls. “Isaac is dyslexic. He promised to stay out of it. He’s going in the naughty chair.”
“Leave him be. He put a fire under my butt to do something. I certainly didn’t need to wait around for another frat party.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ha-ha. Wait a second.” She snatches the puzzle from me and reads the clues again. “He might have designed the puzzle, but there’s no way he knew about all this and where I’d be. I think he had a partner in crime.”
“Maybe Shelby?”
“She said she didn’t know anything about this. She’s gonna get it if it was her.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I take her face in my hands and kiss her lips, softly at first. She wraps her arms around my waist, and one hand slides under my shirt. When my tongue finds hers, I come alive again.
I break away long enough to whisper, “You know, there’s over five hundred beds in this hospital. What do you want to bet that there’s at least one that’s not being used?” I wiggle my eyebrows.
She pops me on the shoulder. “You’re awful. Tell me that doctors do not do that.”
I shrug and hold my hands up in defense. “All I know is that there’s a list in the residents’ lounge that shows where the empty beds are every night. I’m speculating what it’s for.” I’m sure my dimple has made an appearance.
“No, absolutely not.” Even though she protests, she has a goofy grin plastered on her face.
“Actually, I walked in on two doctors one night. It almost blinded me.”
She giggles. “That is totally unprofessional, and I cannot believe adults would do things like that.”
I pin her against the half wall of the patio and nuzzle her neck. “And rumor has it there’s an entire research unit that shuts down on the weekends. Today is Saturday, right?”
“What if Dr. Michaels needs to update us on Stella?”
I pat my back pocket. “I’ve got my phone, and he can also page me if he needs to reach us. You’d be surprised how fast I can get dressed when I have to.”
She nibbles on the inside of her mouth then pushes me aside. “I want to see that list right now.”
“Oh, so you’re interested in knowing where the vacancies are. Nice.”
She rolls her eyes. “As if. I don’t believe you.”
“I could go home and get the Twister game if you want.”
She takes my hand and leads me away from the wall. We stand side by side, my fingers laced between hers, as we wait on the elevator door to open. The ping interrupts the quiet, and we step inside, standing against opposite walls. I push the button for the fifth floor, the closed research unit, and I wink at her.
As soon as the doors close, she is all over me. Excellent!
I fish out my wallet, remove my ID badge, and wave it in front of her face. “See, if you were a big-shot doctor like me, you could swipe into any unit in this hospital. Even the closed research unit.”
She rolls her eyes. I swipe my badge into the wall-mounted access system, but nothing happens. I swipe again. Nothing.
Darla giggles. “It might help if you flip it over.”
I stick my tongue out at her, like all big-shot doctors would do. When I swipe again, this time with my badge turned the correct way, the light changes to green and the door to the dark unit opens.
“Kind of creepy,” Darla says. “Are we going to get killed making out, like in all those slasher movies?”
I take her hand, and we scamper down the hallway to the last room on the right. I figure the farther away we are from the nursing station, the better. As soon as we’re inside the room, I close the door behind us and pin her against it. The streetlights filtering in through the window give us enough brightness that we can see well enough not to run into the equipment all over the room.
While I kiss her neck, she busies herself with the hem of my T-shirt. I break away from her skin long enough to slide my shirt over my head. Darla throws it across the room, and it lands on the blood pressure machine.
She places featherlight touches on my chest, her fingers trailing down my stomach until she rests her hands on my waist. I can barely control my breathing. She pushes me backward, toward the bed, until I bump into the footboard. With one quick snap of her wrist, she snatches the privacy curtain, and it skitters closed around the bed.
I motion with my finger for her to come to me, which she does without hesitation. As soon as she’s close enough, I grab her by the sweatshirt and yank it over her head, trapping one of my hands inside it. I trail kisses down her neck toward those perfect breasts, but I can’t touch them the way I want while my one hand still clings on to the sweatshirt like it’s attached with Velcro. With one last-ditch effort, I pitch the sweatshirt off my hand so I can devour her breasts.
She inhales sharply when I kiss the soft skin right above her bra. The sweatshirt drops to the floor, and together, we collapse onto the bed. Darla lands on top of me. I roll us both over until she is beneath me, and my h
ands fumble around, searching for her bra hook. I find it and strip her bra off quickly. Darla moans, and her hands roam through my hair as I get reacquainted with her body. When my mouth makes its descent to her stomach, she covers herself with her hands.
I peer up at her. “What’s wrong?”
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “It’s… well, uh… when I lost my baby weight, things never went back to normal. The skin is kind of loose.”
I kiss her hands, and she finally gets the courage to move them. I don’t see loose skin. All I see is a beautiful stomach that used to hold my precious baby. I kiss it and imagine what it would have been like to feel my baby kicking inside Darla’s abdomen. I love this woman more and more every second.
Darla fumbles with something next to her. The head of the bed rises to a fifteen-degree level. My eyebrows shoot up.
She holds up the remote that controls the bed. “I guess there are benefits to a hospital bed.”
I crawl my way back up her body. “Now you’re talking. Don’t hit that call button. We don’t need a code team rushing in.”
She cracks up and takes my face in her hands. “That would be our luck, wouldn’t it?”
“I love you, Darla. I always have.”
She gets a wicked, non-Darla-like expression in her eyes. “Prove it.”
My hand slides down and unzips her jeans. “You read my mind.”
Chapter Forty-One
Darla
I could stay wrapped in Theo’s arms forever, but the mommy guilt kicks in. I should be in the waiting room in case Stella needs me.
Theo props himself up on his elbow and leans in to give me another kiss. “In case there’s a fire, my name is Theo Edwards. And you are…”
He makes me laugh. “Darla, and we have a child. So if there is a fire, let’s please go get her together before we run out of here.”
“Absolutely. Together forever.” He points at me. “And no more important information by email.”
I hold up my index, middle, and ring fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
He cringes.
“What’s wrong?”
He buries his face in my chest. “I, uh, I need to do a better job of stashing condoms in my wallet.”
And we have now come full circle. I laugh, making his head bounce on my chest. “Dr. Edwards, you should know better.” If we got pregnant again, I would think we won the jackpot.
“Excuse me, but I don’t make a habit of having… S-E-X at work. I’m shocked I even have my wallet with me.”
His phone buzzes, making us both snap out of our sex-induced haze. He grabs it off the bedside table. “It’s Dr. Michaels.”
My lungs stop. I clutch the sheet and pray that everything’s okay.
“This is Theo,” he says into his phone. He bites his lip and listens intently. All of a sudden, his eyes get big, and he gives me a thumbs-up.
Finally, I can breathe again.
“Thank you. Yes. We’ll see you first thing in the morning.” He hangs up the phone and grabs me in a big hug. “She’s out of surgery, off the vent, and breathing on her own. Everything’s good. She should be awake in the morning for us to visit with her.”
When I think I have no tears left, I produce about a gallon more. My breath catches in my throat. Theo rubs my back to help calm me. I bury my face in his chest.
He takes a deep breath. “As much as I want to stay here all night, I left my diabetic kit in the waiting room. I need to check my blood sugar.”
“Of course.” I wipe my eyes and sit up. When I do, my hand lands on the call button. It lets out a loud beep.
I gasp.
Theo flies out of the bed, his legs tangled in the sheet. “We gotta go.”
I jump up but can’t find my clothes. His T-shirt is still on the blood pressure machine, so I snatch it and throw it on.
“Hey, what am I supposed to wear?”
I shrug and point to my sweatshirt on the floor by the door. “Wear that.” I throw on my jeans and stuff my bra and panties in the front pocket.
Theo jumps into his pants, not wasting time trying to find his underwear. He yelps when he zips up his jeans. He should have slowed down for that. He throws on my sweatshirt, inside out, picks up his sneakers, and peers into the hall.
“Let’s go.”
I grab my purse and shoes and let him lead me toward the elevator. A security guard rounds the corner at the other end of the hallway as we safely scoot into the elevator. I balance on one foot at a time while I put on my shoes. Theo doesn’t even bother. We face each other and bust out laughing.
As soon as the elevator deposits us in front of the ICU waiting room, Theo puts a finger to his lips, signaling me to stay quiet. Our baby is getting better, but so many other families are still in anguish. I have to be respectful to them. We tiptoe into the dark room. Theo grabs his kit from his usual corner and a blanket from the cabinet. I lead him to my designated loveseat. He wraps a blanket around us, giving us a tiny bit of privacy. Theo places a chaste kiss on my lips before he unzips his kit and checks his sugar. After he has given himself his insulin, he tugs me onto his lap. Theo’s hand slides up my thigh, making me giggle.
“Shh, you’re going to wake up the other parents,” he whispers. With the other hand, he thumb wrestles me. Even in his weakened state, he can still whip my butt at thumb wrestling.
“You’re part of the problem,” I say. “I cannot believe we did that.”
“I can. I’ll never be able to go into room S5104 again without smiling.” He nibbles on my ear and presses my thumb down. Of course, he would be thinking of thumb wrestling. No fair. I’m distracted.
“And no protection… again,” I say.
“You are such a tramp, Nurse Battle. What am I going to do with you?”
“Me?”
“Shh. Yeah, you. First of all, Stella was conceived at a frat party. What if you’re pregnant again? This time, it was in a hospital bed—S5104 in case you forgot—while this baby’s big sister is in surgery? Our kids are going to be so messed up.”
Thinking of having a house full of little Theos converts me into a giggly schoolgirl. “All my fault, right?”
His hand creeps up my side under my “Don’t trust atoms” T-shirt that he was wearing an hour ago. He’s so adorable, wearing my inside-out sweatshirt. I wonder if anyone else noticed.
“Yep. That’s my story.”
“Her sister? So you’re convinced that I’m pregnant and that it’s a girl?”
“Uh-huh.” He kisses my neck. “I’ve got a name picked out too.”
“Thanks for consulting me. Is this payback for not being involved in the baby naming the first time around?”
He slides me onto my back on the loveseat. “Um, something like that. I’m kind of partial to Juliet.”
I giggle. “Uh, no.”
“Lady Macbeth?”
“Stop it. I like the name Grace.”
“Perfect. Can our third child be conceived in the old-fashioned way? In the backseat of a—oof.”
I’ve cut off his sentence by goosing him in the ribs. I tickle him until he slides to the floor with a thump.
“Are you all right?”
He gives me the thumbs-up. “I’m good. Uh-oh. I think I broke my pump again.”
“Ooooh, Stella’s going to be mad at you.”
“I liked it better when they hated each other,” one of the dads says from across the room. An oof comes from him. Moms have to stick together.
The next morning, we line up outside the entrance to the ICU, waiting for visiting hours to commence. Theo holds me close, and his fingers draw little circles on my back.
His family bursts into the waiting room. When they see Theo and me cozied up together, his mother raise
s her hands in the air. Her tears of joy are no match for Jennifer’s. She envelops Theo in a huge, all-consuming hug. Tommy wraps an arm around me and gives my shoulder a squeeze.
Isaac and Shelby enter, and when Isaac sees me shaking my head, he backpedals. I grab each of them by an arm and sit them down onto a couch away from Theo’s family. Theo stands by my side.
“How could you?” I ask.
Isaac curls into a ball. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stuff my hand into Theo’s front jeans pocket.
“Down, girl,” Theo says. “Not here.”
“Oh, hush.” I retrieve the Hangman puzzle and throw the wadded piece of paper at Isaac. “Don’t try to deny it, Mr. Dyslexic.”
He cringes. “Oopsies, but it was her idea.” He points at Shelby.
She gasps. “That is not… well… it’s not completely true.”
I take a step forward, but Theo holds me back.
Shelby stands and takes my hands in hers. “We were joking around and thought there had to be a playful way to get you two together.” She grins at Theo. “I didn’t know Isaac actually did anything.” She bats her eyes at me and sighs. “Fine, I may have slipped him some useful information from time to time.” She points at Isaac. “Thanks a lot for getting me in trouble.”
She turns back to me. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but don’t be mad at him, or me for that matter. We love you and Stella. In Isaac’s crazy way, he wanted you to be happy.”
I peek over Shelby’s shoulder to see Isaac’s sad puppy-dog face.
Theo sticks his hand out to help Isaac off the couch. He gives Isaac a back slap and a hug. “Thanks, brother.”
If Theo isn’t mad at him, I certainly can’t be. He’s my best friend, and even if he deserves for me to be a bit angry at him, I can’t do it. I bury my head in his chest and wrap my arms around him. “From now on, let me be in charge of the games. You suck at spelling.”
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