I groan before taking a sip of my bourbon, now regretting my instructions to the waiter that we intend to take our time tonight.
Gracen just grins at me mischievously over the rim of her cocktail and I can imagine her evil laugh in my head. I grin back at her, figuring that perhaps the anticipation will just make it better.
Chapter 26
Gracen
While I miss the sense of urgency and importance of the neonatal unit, the sweet excitement of newborns is satisfying to me as well. As I bathe a newborn baby girl named Erika J., it's hard not to be a little sad as I reminisce about Lilly as a newborn. It's bittersweet that I'll never have another one of my own to do this with. Not because I can't get pregnant, because adoption is possible, but it just seems completely unforeseeable to me that I'll have additional children. That's not being pessimistic. It's just that Lilly is everything I could ever want and more. I don't feel incomplete in any way by not having another child.
"Gracen." I look up to see Monica standing there. We usually share the same shift here in the nursery.
"What's up?" I say as I rub sudsy warm water over the baby's belly. She strains against the sensation, opening her mouth to bawl against everything that is not the secure womb she left less than a day ago.
"You got a call at the nurses' station," she says as she walks to my side. Her hands reach to take the baby from me, and we make the transfer easily as she and I are experts at handling newborns.
I give her a smile as I dry my hands. "Thanks. I'll be back soon."
I leave the nursery and head to the nurses' station. It's not a surprise to receive a call there while I'm in the nursery. I keep my hospital-issued phone off when I'm in there so as not to disturb the babies.
I step into the U-shaped station, which sits between the nursery and patient rooms. One of the phones has a receiver sitting on the countertop, so I assume that's my call. I pick it up and answer, "This is Gracen Moore."
"Gracen, it's Josie."
"Hey," I say brightly, happy to hear my friend's voice. We haven't had a lot of time to get together lately between our opposing shifts and such. "Want to grab some lunch today?"
Her voice is calm and assured as she says, "Lilly is on her way into the ER. She took a fall and cut her lip. She's fine, but she's probably going to need some stitches. I'll be able to evaluate her as soon as they get here."
Took a fall.
Cut her lip.
Stitches.
As a nurse I know this is not the end of the world. As a mother, this means my child must be dying. "Oh God," I moan.
Josie's voice rings clear and confident. I expect she talks to many frantic parents this way. "Gracen, she's fine so you need to calm down."
"How can you possibly know that?" I snap with hysteria tinging my voice. "You haven't even seen her yet."
"Because I talked to Marek on the phone. He tried to call you but your phone was off, so he called me."
Marek says she's fine. What could he possibly know? He's been a dad for all of six weeks. I'm quite sure he doesn't understand the severity of her injuries.
"I'm on my way." I set the receiver back down onto the phone and mutter to whoever is sitting there and listening, "I've got to go down to the emergency room. My daughter's being brought in."
Someone says, "I hope she's okay," but I don't even respond because my thoughts are wholly occupied with Lilly and how badly she's hurt.
Bypassing the staff elevators, which tend to run quicker than the regular ones, I hit the emergency stairwell and run down the four flights of stairs to the emergency room on the east end of the hospital. I jog as quickly as I can through the hallways until I punch through the double doors that lead into the bay that holds all the rooms around the perimeter. This hospital is pretty state of the art, and gone are the curtained rooms that one normally associates with an emergency room. Instead frosted glass walls partition each patient's room, giving a light, airy feeling, but allowing privacy as required by law. I look around frantically for someone to make eye contact and tell me where to go. I get nothing in return because everyone is busy.
"Can someone tell me where Lilly Moore is?" I call out.
A nurse sitting in the center station lifts her head to look at me, but before anyone can respond, Josie steps out of one of the rooms to my left. I bolt toward her and she intercepts me before I can make it to the door.
"She's fine but a little upset," Josie says softly, perhaps trying to reassure as well as warn me. "It would do your daughter a world of good if you can wipe that terrified look off your face."
It takes a moment for me to absorb what she says, but it finally penetrates my fog of worry.
I take a deep breath and give her a half-assed smile. "I'm okay. I got this."
Josie studies me for a moment and seems to like what she sees on my face before she turns to enter into the room. I follow her in, but I'm not prepared to see blood all over the front of my child's shirt.
"Oh God, baby," I murmur sympathetically as her eyes come to mine. They fill with tears that immediately spill over, travel down her face, and soak into the bandage that's pressed over the top of her mouth on the right.
I can't see the extent of her injury, but my clinical curiosity doesn't matter. I need to reassure my daughter and make sure Lilly knows it's going to be okay.
I walk to the side of her bed, not even glancing at Marek, who stands on the other side. My hand goes to Lilly's forehead and I brush her hair back as she blinks at her tears. Her lower lip peeks out from the bandage, and it quivers with emotion.
"Hey Lilly Bug," I say lightly. "Looks like you got a boo-boo, huh?"
More tears spill over the edge of her eyes as she nods. When I hear a tiny sob tear free of my daughter, my heart is shredded.
I lean over the bed and brush my lips gently against her forehead, then I start to hum one of her favorite lullabies. It was always guaranteed to put her to sleep at night, and I hope it provides some measure of comfort now. Lilly takes a shuddering breath.
"It's going to be okay," I murmur. "We're going to get you fixed up, and then Mommy is going to take you home, okay?"
I lift my head so I can look at her, and to my relief, she looks a little more confident as she nods at me once again.
I keep stroking her hair, but I manage to lift my gaze up to Marek. "What happened?"
"I thought it would be fun to take her ice-skating," Marek says softly, and I can hear the regret in his voice. The fact he's feeling guilt and my daughter is in the emergency room bloodied and in pain makes me incredibly angry.
I hiss across the bed at him, "She is far too young to be ice-skating."
Marek flinches slightly, but the accusation in my voice doesn't cow him. Instead he leans across her bed and in a soft voice replies, "I was her age when I first started skating."
"And you're a hockey player," I throw back at him sarcastically.
"She could be a hockey player too," he throws right back at me, the anger evident in his voice.
"Both of you need to chill out," Josie says as she steps up to the bed. Her voice is soft but menacing as her eyes cut down to Lilly, who is staring at us with wide eyes. "She's scared enough as it is."
I take a deep breath, refusing to look at Marek. His hand comes out to rest on Lilly's belly, where he rubs in slow circles.
I lift my chin and ask Josie, "What's the extent of the injury?"
"She's got a two-centimeter laceration going through her upper lip, extending into the skin just above it. I've called in the plastic surgeon on call and he should be here soon. I can most likely stitch it up, but I figured why not have a professional do it."
Shifting my gaze to Marek, I grit through my teeth, "And just how did she get cut?"
"It was an accident," Marek explains in a hollow voice. "We were ice-skating and two little boys were chasing each other, and one of them ran into her. She went face first down into the ice and I think her tooth is what cut
the lip. It's a little loose."
My stare turns murderous. He had one job today, and that was to keep our daughter safe. He has a game tonight and wanted to spend the day with her. I thought nothing of it. Well, actually...I thought it was sweet. I'm sure Marek could have had a million things to do on his time off today, but he wanted to spend it with Lilly. I just never thought it would include a plastic surgeon needing to reconstruct my daughter's face.
Even as ridiculous as I know I'm being, I can't help but lay the blame on him. She's never been hurt like this and the math is very simple. I've had her for almost four years with nothing major happening. He has her in his care for one day and we're in the emergency room.
I turn back to Josie. My voice sounds calm and assured, and this is strictly for Lilly's benefit. "Okay, thank you. I think that sounds like a good plan."
My attention turns back to Lilly, and I lean over her once again to press my lips to her forehead. When I lift up I murmur to her, "Let's get you fixed up, baby. It's going to be okay."
* * *
--
Even though my hands are itching to yank Lilly away from him, Marek carries her in the front door. I walk behind silently, followed by his parents. Marek had called them when he couldn't get in touch with me and they had shown up at the emergency room not long after I had. They followed us back to Marek's house, probably concerned more about Marek and me than Lilly. After she was stitched up, she was perfectly fine. The scarring should be minimal, according to the surgeon, and he gave her a huge lollipop that had her smiling.
But the conversation between Marek and me was completely stilted, and it was probably evident to his parents that things between us were tense. While I didn't say another word to Marek about taking Lilly ice-skating, it was obvious to everyone in that room that I was pissed as hell about the situation.
"We need to talk," I say to Marek as his parents close the front door behind us.
"Here," his mom says briskly as she holds her hands out to Lilly. "We'll take her into the kitchen and maybe fix a snack. You hungry, Lilly?"
Lilly nods with a sweet smile, her hands reaching for Joan. Marek reluctantly releases her, scrubbing a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff once she's in her grandma's arms. I don't say a word, but head into his room, knowing he'll follow.
When I hear the snick of the door shutting, I turn to face Marek, who is now leaning back against it with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. He doesn't wait for me to go on the offense, instead giving me his most droll, condescending voice imaginable. "Let's hear it, Gracen. Get it off your chest so we can move past this."
His indifference to my anger pisses me off and I stomp up to him, going to my tiptoes and getting right in his face. "You should have asked my permission before you took her ice-skating."
"Let me guess," he drawls with a cocked eyebrow. "With the benefit of hindsight, you'd have said no, right?"
"I would have said no," I growl at him. "Regardless of hindsight. She's three years old."
"She'll be four in a few months," he mutters.
"And she's far too small to be on ice skates," I continue, ignoring the fact that she is a bit older than I'd said. "You should have asked me first, and if you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Marek decides to go on the offense, dropping his arms and pushing away from the door. He backs me up across the room without touching me, just advancing forward as he says, "I cannot believe you'd even think to blame me for this. It was an accident, Gracie. Kids get hurt."
"So says the man that's been a dad for mere days." I stop and plant myself, causing him to halt inches from me.
He bends down, hovering over me as his eyes go dark and stormy. "I'd have been a dad a lot longer if you had fucking told me the truth from the start."
He promised me that was in the past. That he'd forgiven me. That it was no longer a factor in how he felt, but it becomes clear to me.
So fucking clear that he's never going to let that go.
"It may be a good thing I kept her hidden," I say in a deathly quiet voice. "Because your father skills suck."
Marek sucks in a sharp breath as hurt fills his eyes. Then it flickers out and his eyes go ice cold. He lifts a hand and points an accusing finger at me. "Fuck, it's no wonder I wanted out from underneath that fiasco of a relationship we had. You're a goddamn shrew, Gracie. I just couldn't imagine being shackled to that for the rest of my life."
Somewhere deep inside me, I know he's saying that just to hurt me because I just hurt him. But that rational thought is so deep that it's easy to push down even more. Bury it from further consideration.
"Well, let me save you from any more heartburn, Marek." My voice is scathing and brittle. "I'm out of here."
I push past him, my shoulder unintentionally hitting hard against his arm. It moves him to the side, but fast as lightning, he's gripping me by my wrist to stop me.
He turns me to face him and demands, "What exactly does that mean?"
Jerking out of his grasp, I keep a fairly calm voice but drive home that I mean business as I walk to the door. "It means that I'm leaving."
Marek laughs. "Good. Go. But I want split custody. On my days here, I want Lilly."
I freeze with my hand on the doorknob and turn to face him slowly. "I'm not staying here...in Raleigh, Marek. There's nothing for me here. I'm going back home to Wilkie. To my parents."
"No, you're fucking not." His chest heaves. His words slice into me. "You try to take her out of this state and I'll take you to court. I'll sue for full custody."
"Save it. Your threats don't work on me anymore. You eliminated my Owen problem, so I'm not afraid to go home anymore."
"Afraid to go home?" he asks in confusion. "When were you ever afraid?"
"Forget it," I say in exasperation, and more than done with this conversation I turn the knob and open the door.
The same old hurts being flung at each other.
We'd never change.
We'd never really forgive.
"You're not taking Lilly out of this state," Marek says quietly, and it's a threat.
I don't respond because I'm tired of all of this. Tired of being reminded of my sins, and I'm done with remembering the heartbreak he'd caused me. And yes, I'm even tired of throwing vile things back in his face.
Just tired.
"You have a game to get to, Marek," I murmur before walking out of his room.
"You're not taking Lilly away," he calls after me.
Chapter 27
Marek
My teammates are loud and boisterous as we enter the locker room following our victory.
Not me, though.
I am in a deep, dark mood. I viciously slam my stick into the vertical cubby that holds my personal gear, trying to ignore the backslapping and congratulations going on around me. I shrug my gloves off, and after sitting on the bench, I unlace my skates as I mull over what a fantastically shitty day I've had.
It's started off great before nose-diving into an abyss from which I can't seem to escape.
I took Lilly ice-skating with the idea that she would learn a little bit about what her father does for a living. I sure as fuck didn't expect her to end up in the emergency room with a split lip and a loose tooth. I almost had a heart attack as some hellion-type kid chasing another hellion-type kid around the ice clipped Lilly's legs. I had been letting her hold on to my fingers as I skated behind her, and it happened so fast and so forcefully that she was ripped away from me.
I've seen blood pouring onto the ice a million times from various injuries and cuts while playing, but it's a completely different matter when it's your daughter's blood. I may have lost my shit and yelled at the two kids whose parents came over and were duly apologetic. I wanted to kill those little fuckers.
I realize kids get hurt. I realize Lilly is going to get hurt again. But I wonder if I have the fortitude to survive that stuff, because having to take her to the hos
pital had knocked about ten years off my life. The day got only shittier when Gracen blamed me for everything.
What sucks the most is that she's probably right. I should've asked her if it was okay and we should've talked about it. I was skating at Lilly's age, but it doesn't mean she was ready, and when it boils right down to it, I don't know much about my daughter. How can I make such a judgment call about her abilities when I've known her for a month and a half?
The craptacular way I played during the game tonight is just icing on the cake.
I knew Gracen wasn't in the stands watching me and was in fact probably packing her bags to leave. My head just wasn't in the game, because all I could do was keep replaying our last conversation.
The vicious cycle we keep repeating. It's formulaic.
Cause and effect.
Never ending.
She gets mad. I get mad. I throw it in her face that she's deceitful for keeping Lilly a secret. She throws it right back in my face that she had no choice because of the way I dumped her. These are weapons in our arsenals and we have no hesitation in using them against each other. It's fucked up and unnecessary.
What I don't understand is why I can't let it go. Why she can't let it go. We're together again. We're a family.
The only thing I can conclude is that perhaps we don't belong together. If we were really forgiving of each other, then we'd be able to truly let these things go. The fact that we can't perhaps is an indication that we're all wrong for each other.
That thought makes my stomach flip, and it's Gracen I'm thinking about, not Lilly, in this moment. I know Lilly will always be mine. I know no such thing about Gracen.
A hand slams down onto my shoulder with enough force that I feel it through my padding. I look up and see Reed grinning down at me. "For someone that just won an important game tonight, you look awful pissy."
I glare at Reed and mutter, "That win didn't happen because of me."
I missed passes, checks, and screen attempts. My legs seemed to be filled with lead, and I felt about two seconds behind on everything. It was probably one of the shittiest games I've ever played in my life.
"Dude," Reed says with concern in his voice as he sits down beside me on the bench. "What's wrong?"
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