Dare

by Glenna Sinclair

  “They’ll be here in a minute.”

  The pain again. I squeezed his hand harder than I’d thought myself capable of. He didn’t flinch, didn’t try to pull away. He squeezed back, as he brushed more hair out of my face with his other hand.

  “You’re okay, baby,” he said. “They’ll be here soon.”

  “It hurts.”

  “I know.” He glanced over at the door, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he slid a little closer to me, so close that his nose was nearly touching mine. “You’re going to be okay. This is going to be over very soon.”

  I barely heard his last words. The pain radiated around my belly again, slicing through me like a Thor’s hammer through a boulder. I cried out, pulling my legs up toward my belly as I instinctively tried to move into a fetal position. Ironic, really. But it didn’t help. It made it worse somehow.

  The door opened and a nurse came over to the bed.

  “What seems to be wrong?”

  I just groaned. I couldn’t even speak.

  “What do you think? She’s in pain!”

  The nurse moved around the bed and glanced at the machine monitoring the babies. I thought for a minute that the monitor belts had shifted again. Or that the heartbeats simply weren’t there. That fear dulled the pain for a brief moment. But then another wave started in my back and flashed around to my belly, drawing a small scream from my lips.

  The nurse mumbled something I didn’t catch. Then she was rushing for the door.

  “Where’s she going?” I mumbled.

  Nicolas didn’t respond at first. He was studying the machine as the nurse had done. And then more people were coming into the room. Someone pushed me onto my back and a warm hand slid up between my legs.

  I instinctively slammed my thighs together.

  “Ana,” Nicolas said, back at my side, “you need to let them take a look. Okay?”

  I focused on him as another pain sliced through me. “The babies?”

  “Fine,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine as he took both my hands in his. “In fact, it looks like we might get to meet them very soon.”

  I nodded. Fear had kept me from realizing what was happening. But his words brought back those terrible hours on Thanksgiving. These pains, they were the same as those. I was in labor.

  Dr. Bishop marched through the door a few minutes later, a cheerful smile on his face as he came up to the side of the bed.

  “Busy night,” he said as he touched my wrist, apparently checking my pulse as he studied my eyes. “Just delivered a baby girl ten minutes ago.”

  I felt like I should say something, congratulate him or something, but another pain sliced through me and I couldn’t make my vocal chords do much more than moan. He nodded, his smile disappearing as he turned to the nurses. I could hear their voices, but I couldn’t really understand what was going on. I saw a tight look on Nicolas’ face that frightened me. If something happened to the babies after all of this, I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive myself.

  Just a few minutes later—at least, that’s how it felt—I was being pushed through the hallway. I finally got to see the outside of my hospital room, but I was in so much pain I couldn’t really appreciate it. And then I was in another room, a stranger standing over me, asking me to count backwards from one hundred. I didn’t understand what was happening. I turned my head when he pressed a mask over my nose and mouth. And then Nicolas was there.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he said, smoothing the back of his fingers over my cheek. “It’s time for you to go to sleep. And when you wake up, you’ll be able to meet the babies.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “They’re fine,” he said, leaning close to me, his lips brushing mine. “Everything’s fine.”

  I nodded. When the stranger with the mask pressed it to my face again, I didn’t move away.

  Chapter 26

  I woke with a start.

  There was no longer pain in my back, but my belly burned like a shallow paper cut that’d gotten salt into it. I touched my belly, and it was flatter than I remembered it. Flatter and softer.

  The babies!

  I tried to sit up, but pain sliced through me that was a hundred times worse than before. Constance was there. She grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back down against the pillows.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re okay.”

  “Where are the babies?”

  “In the NICU.”

  I looked at her. “The what?”

  “The intensive care unit. They were a little early.”

  “But they’re okay?”

  “Yes.” Constance sat on the edge of the bed and pushed me more firmly down. I settled back against the pillows, realizing for the first time that I was in a different room than I’d been in before.

  “What happened?”

  “You went into labor,” Constance said. “You were bleeding pretty heavily, so they decided to do a C-section.”

  “Bleeding?”

  “The little girl’s placenta pulled away from the wall of your uterus. It made you bleed pretty heavily…gave everyone a scare from what I was told. But you made it through the surgery pretty well.”

  “And the babies?”

  “Fine,” Constance said, but there was something about her expression that frightened me.

  “Constance, tell me the truth. Is there something wrong with the babies?”

  She hesitated, and my heart sank into my chest. But then Nicolas walked into the room. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a five o’clock shadow forming on his strong jaw. When he saw me, saw that I was awake, something like relief floated through his eyes.

  “Hey,” he said, coming around the bed to the far side.

  “Are the babies okay?” I asked.

  “Yes. They’re fine.”

  I studied his face a second, my eyes moving to Constance. Her eyes fell to the floor under my stare. I knew Constance. I’d known her since I was a little girl. She was hiding something.

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Nicolas pulled his cellphone out of his back jeans pocket. After thumbing through it for a second, he handed it to me.

  “That’s Baby A, Nicolas Cole.”

  I stared at the picture, my heart swelling as I took in the baby’s perfectly round face, his tiny hands, and the shock of dark hair on his little head. He was tiny, and there was an IV in his foot, but he seemed almost perfect. His color was good, and he was sleeping peacefully. I couldn’t believe this perfect little human being had been in my body just a little while ago. He was so beautiful.

  “And Baby B?”

  Nicolas moved close to me and touched the screen of his phone, moving it to the next picture. Another baby, smaller than the first, her skin wrinkled and a little off color, filled the screen. Like her brother, this baby had a beautiful, round face, dark hair, and perfect little features. Her eyes were open, as though she knew her daddy was taking her picture. And her eyes…was it crazy to think they looked a little like mine?

  “They’re okay?”

  “Cole is perfect,” Nicolas said. “His Apgar numbers, the test they do when a baby is first born, were all eights, which is perfect, especially for a preemie. He’ll probably have to stay here for a while until he gains a little weight. But, otherwise, he’s perfect.”

  I nodded, watching his face closely for any sign that he was lying to me. I didn’t see anything.

  “And the girl?”

  Nicolas’ eyes fell to the floor for a brief second. Then, he looked at me, his gaze never wavering from mine. “She was the one without amniotic fluid all this time. That caused her lungs not to develop as well as they doctors would have liked. They want to monitor her closely, make sure they develop now.”

  “But they think she’ll be okay?”

  Nicolas touched my hand lightly. “It’s going to be touch and go for a while. But if she does well over the next few days, they say her chances are very good.”
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br />   “It’s good news,” Constance said, reminding me of her presence. I glanced at her and nodded, taking her hand in mine.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I agreed.

  ***

  They wouldn’t let me go see the babies for a while. I lost a lot of blood, and the doctor wanted me to get plenty of rest and fluids before I started wandering the hallways. Constance stayed with me while Nicolas split his time between my room and the NICU. I was almost jealous of him and his ability to visit the babies. I was so desperate to see them that I wanted to scream every time someone told me I had to wait a little longer.

  When they finally let me go, the babies were nearly three days old. I felt dirty and underdressed as Nicolas pushed me in a wheelchair through the hallways, a thin bathrobe barely covering my hospital gown. But the moment he pushed me through the NICU doors and I could hear the babies crying, nothing mattered but holding one of those precious bundles in my arms.

  Cole was in an uncovered isolette, wide awake and waving his fists in the air like he was having an argument with God. A nurse gently lifted him and placed him in my arms. My heart melted as he gazed up at me. I knew from some reading I’d done before he was born that he likely couldn’t see me clearly. But I believed he could. I believed he knew who I was.

  I bent low and kissed his forehead lightly.

  “Hello, mijo.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I watched him. He waved his fists again, once or twice, then he snuggled against me. I think he sighed.

  “Mr. Costa,” a man in scrubs said, as he approached and held out his hand to Nicolas where he stood behind my wheelchair.

  “Dr. Farley,” Nicolas said, respect dripping from his words.

  “Cole looks very good this morning. I’m a little concerned that he hasn’t gained any weight, but, as I discussed with you yesterday, I hope that will change when we introduce breast milk into his diet.”

  “Breast milk?” I asked.

  The doctor glanced at Nicolas before squatting down beside my chair so that we could see each other without me having to look up.

  “The best food in the world for a newborn baby is breast milk. It’s filled with nutrients and antibodies that are perfectly designed for them. When we have a preemie, like Cole and his sister, we prefer to administer breast milk through the feeding tubes and then encourage moms to nurse the moment the baby is ready to suckle.”

  “That’ll help him gain weight?”

  “Yes. And it will help him and his sister get strong enough to leave the hospital.”

  “I was going to talk to you about it,” Nicolas said, “but I didn’t have the chance.”

  I looked down at Cole. He was still awake, but he seemed perfectly content to just lay in my arms, staring around at the larger world. I touched his cheek, and he immediately moved his head in that direction as though looking for something.

  “See?” the doctor asked. “He’s already got all the instincts he needs. We just have to show him how it’s done.”

  I looked at Nicolas. It had never occurred to me that he would need me to feed the babies. I always assumed the moment they were born, I would be gone. But if I could help them survive the ordeal of the NICU…

  “I’m up for it if it’s what you want.”

  Before Nicolas could speak, the doctor stood and addressed him again. “As I explained this morning, there are breast milk banks where we can get what’s needed. But it would be better this way.”

  It sank in then that Nicolas must have explained that I was only a surrogate. For some reason, that broke my heart. It felt almost like a betrayal.

  Nicolas touched his hand to my shoulder. “If it’s okay with her doctors.”

  Chapter 27

  I was released from the hospital a week after the babies were born. In that time, a breast feeding expert came and spoke to me, showing me how to pump milk from my breasts, explaining how often I should do it and problems to watch out for. And then she sat with me and Cole in a back room of the NICU and showed me how to encourage him to latch on. He wasn’t quite strong enough yet to suck properly, but he was clearly interested in the process. The doctor said it would be a few weeks before he was strong enough to latch on long enough to nurse a full session. When he reached that point, he would be able to go home.

  The girl wasn’t doing as well. They had her in a covered isolette and wouldn’t let us touch her. She had an infection when she was born that had gone unnoticed until then. They were treating her with some pretty serious medications. Her lungs were also under developed, so she was on oxygen and had to have medications to treat that, too. She was so tiny…I stared at her for a long time the first time I saw her, fear enveloping me. Her color wasn’t good. Her size was unbelievable. And she didn’t seem to move nearly as much as Cole did.

  I stood over her isolette in street clothes—the first street clothes I’d worn in months—my hand pressed to the warm plastic as though she could feel it.

  “You should give her a name.”

  Nicolas was standing behind me, but he wasn’t looking at the baby. He was watching the nurse adjust Cole’s IV.

  “I thought you’d like to do that.”

  I glanced at him. “Me?”

  He nodded, his eyes reluctantly moving up to my face. “You’re the reason she’s here. It only seems right that you should have some input.”

  I wanted to believe him, but the way his eyes flicked toward her and then quickly moved away told me that he was convinced she wasn’t going to make it. But I knew deep in my heart that she wouldn’t have come this far if she wasn’t strong.

  “Vivienne Martina,” I said quietly.

  “Vivienne?”

  “It means lively.” I glanced back at him. “Full of life.”

  He nodded. “And Martina?”

  My throat began to ache as tears burned there. “My mother’s name.”

  He touched my shoulder lightly. “It’s beautiful.”

  ***

  He drove me to his house and carefully helped me out of the car, holding my arm as I slowly made my way to the front door. Even though my surgery was a week ago, I was still sore. And, after two months in bed, my muscles seemed to have forgotten what to do. It was going to take me a while to get back into shape.

  The house looked pretty much the same as it had the last time I saw it. I sat on the edge of the couch, the memory of the argument Nicolas and I were having when I first went into labor flashing through my mind. His expression was unreadable when I looked at him, so I was pretty sure he was remembering the same thing.

  “You can stay in your old room, if you’d like. Or you can move closer to the nursery, if that would make you more comfortable.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant at first, but then, I realized that he was referring to the closeness of the guest room I was previously staying in to his master bedroom. The nursery was on the other side of the hall, so the guest room beside it was as far from the master bedroom as possible.

  Why would he think I wouldn’t want to near him?

  I shrugged. “I don’t suppose it matters.”

  Nicolas came closer to me, settling on the coffee table that sat in front of the couch. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He studied my face for a long minute.

  “We haven’t really talked about what happens next.”

  Again, I was a little lost. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he was talking about.

  “The doctor feels the babies should be on breast milk for at least six months.” He paused, again searching my face as though he expected to see something disagreeable there. “I know six months is a long time. If you’d rather I contract with a milk bank—”

  “No. It’s better for them if it comes from me.”

  He inclined his head slightly. “But I’ve already forced you to give up five months of your life to me and the babies. I can’t, in all conscious, ask you to give up more. But…” He straightened up and dragged his fingers through his hair. �
�I will double the fees the contract promised you. And, as we talked about before, you’ll get pictures every two months and you’re more than welcome to come visit them whenever you want.”

  “Whenever I want?”

  A deep sadness settled in his eyes as he regarded me. “It seems only fair since you went through so much to get them here.”

  My heart seemed to dance in my chest. I had thought he would send me away and never let me see them. But this…it was more than I could have hoped for.

  “What about Virginia?”

  Nicolas’ face tightened again. “She’s still pushing forward with this custody battle. We have a court date in three months. Until then, the judge has ruled that she should be allowed a visit once a week with the babies at the hospital. She was supposed to show up last night, but she never did.”

  “I’m really sorry about that. I honestly thought I was trying to help.”

  Nicolas opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut again. He stood up and went to the back doors, resting his hand against the glass as he stared out at the back garden.

  “Right now, all I care about is getting Cole and Vivienne home safe. Whatever comes after that, I guess we’ll deal with it then.”

  He seemed almost vulnerable as he stood there. I wanted to go to him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but I didn’t really know that, did I? This whole mess, it was my fault. I should have kept my nose out of it. I never was much good at that.

  I went upstairs a few minutes later and unpacked the bags Adam had brought to my room for me. I opened the drawer in the bedside table and found a bag of Xanax I’d hidden there months ago. I picked it up, remembering the stack of bags like this, some filled with prescription drugs, one or two filled with cocaine. I’d found the drugs in a false bottom of a drawer in Nicolas’ bathroom. Constance took the other bags away, giving them to Adam to dispose of. But I hid this bag because it was Xanax that Nicolas was accused of slipping into Aurora’s drink the night she died. I didn’t want Constance to see it. She was already convinced that Nicolas was guilty for reasons I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to give her more fuel for that particular fire.