Twice.
Even Ofelia seemed speechless.
They both looked at Joe as if they expected him to render the hospital to rubble, leveling the whole place right down to its foundation.
“It’s okay.” He laughed ruefully at their shock. “I…sort of… I can’t. My brothers. Dave. The one in the accident. It could be him.”
“Whoo doggies.” Ofelia flopped into one of the chairs near the window. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’m sorry, Morgan.” Melody shook her head. “Absolute earliest would be ten weeks in. A few more if you can hold out for a less risky procedure.”
“Okay. It doesn’t matter to me, you know.” Morgan squeezed Joe’s hand. “This baby is ours. I just thought…”
“I understand, Mo.” Joe kissed her forehead. “Anything to keep him fighting.”
The beeping of the machines escalated.
“Oh no, none of that,” Ofelia scolded Morgan. “Your blood pressure has to stay nice and steady to keep your little guy happy. You’ve got more to consider now than you or your husband or even your brother-in-law. Got it?”
Morgan nodded. She peeked up at Joe.
Despite everything, they both wore identical, shit-eating grins.
Kayla paced the length of the twenty-seven-and-a-half-tile-wide space. Precaution along with a healthy dose of superstition led her to avoid stepping on the black linoleum sprinkled in a mostly random pattern between the beige monotony of the rest of the flooring.
Would that make a difference in the long run? Probably not, but she would try anything at this point. Maybe she should dodge the cracks too.
She swore at least three days should have passed since they’d arrived, every racing heartbeat seeming to pump in ultra-slow motion. The clock hanging crooked on the wall proclaimed it hadn’t even been four hours yet.
It killed her to be so close to Dave and yet so far away. If only she could see him, hold his hand, tell him she was there. Lend him whatever strength she could. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like she’d chugged an entire bottle of bleach. Her stomach churned when she considered how minor that pain would be compared to what Dave likely faced.
A rhythmic squeak interrupted the now-familiar soundtrack of the waiting room—the crunch of Styrofoam coffee cups, people tapping their fingers or toes, snores from the elderly man in the corner and the soft murmurs of various crew members fortifying each other. Heads turned in unison toward the new stimulus.
“Hey.” Morgan lifted her fingers from the arm of a wheelchair, pushed by Joe. The plastic hospital bracelet around her wrist slid higher on her thin arm. Rosy cheeks and alert eyes unwound one small tendril of anxiety from Kayla’s heart.
“Feeling better?” Mike crossed to the chair and crouched so he could evaluate her up close and personal.
“Much.” She leaned forward until her forehead rested on his. “Any updates?”
“Nothing.” Neil joined them.
“Remember, Ofelia said that’s a good sign.” Joe laid one of his broad hands on Morgan’s shoulder when she slumped. Kayla, James and Devon circled around their friends.
Kate approached to stand right in front of Morgan. She rubbed her own slightly rounded belly, then said softly, “Can you give us something to smile about?”
“It doesn’t feel right.” Morgan stared at her socked feet on the metal rests of the wheelchair.
Kayla marched over, taking up a post on the opposite side from Mike. She ordered, “Look at me.”
A watery gaze lifted. Tears bulged at the corner of Morgan’s eyes, threatening to fall.
“If you’re pregnant, no one would be happier for you than Dave.” Kayla shivered. “He’s talked about it almost every night while we were falling asleep. How much he was hoping for you. How much longer we’d have to wait to find out. Please, tell me it’s true. Tell me something wonderful is happening today.”
James and Devon wrapped Kayla in their protective embraces. Still, everyone
Even Ofelia seemed speechless.
They both looked at Joe as if they expected him to render the hospital to rubble, leveling the whole place right down to its foundation.
“It’s okay.” He laughed ruefully at their shock. “I…sort of… I can’t. My brothers. Dave. The one in the accident. It could be him.”
“Whoo doggies.” Ofelia flopped into one of the chairs near the window. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’m sorry, Morgan.” Melody shook her head. “Absolute earliest would be ten weeks in. A few more if you can hold out for a less risky procedure.”
“Okay. It doesn’t matter to me, you know.” Morgan squeezed Joe’s hand. “This baby is ours. I just thought…”
“I understand, Mo.” Joe kissed her forehead. “Anything to keep him fighting.”
The beeping of the machines escalated.
“Oh no, none of that,” Ofelia scolded Morgan. “Your blood pressure has to stay nice and steady to keep your little guy happy. You’ve got more to consider now than you or your husband or even your brother-in-law. Got it?”
Morgan nodded. She peeked up at Joe.
Despite everything, they both wore identical, shit-eating grins.
Kayla paced the length of the twenty-seven-and-a-half-tile-wide space. Precaution along with a healthy dose of superstition led her to avoid stepping on the black linoleum sprinkled in a mostly random pattern between the beige monotony of the rest of the flooring.
Would that make a difference in the long run? Probably not, but she would try anything at this point. Maybe she should dodge the cracks too.
She swore at least three days should have passed since they’d arrived, every racing heartbeat seeming to pump in ultra-slow motion. The clock hanging crooked on the wall proclaimed it hadn’t even been four hours yet.
It killed her to be so close to Dave and yet so far away. If only she could see him, hold his hand, tell him she was there. Lend him whatever strength she could. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like she’d chugged an entire bottle of bleach. Her stomach churned when she considered how minor that pain would be compared to what Dave likely faced.
A rhythmic squeak interrupted the now-familiar soundtrack of the waiting room—the crunch of Styrofoam coffee cups, people tapping their fingers or toes, snores from the elderly man in the corner and the soft murmurs of various crew members fortifying each other. Heads turned in unison toward the new stimulus.
“Hey.” Morgan lifted her fingers from the arm of a wheelchair, pushed by Joe. The plastic hospital bracelet around her wrist slid higher on her thin arm. Rosy cheeks and alert eyes unwound one small tendril of anxiety from Kayla’s heart.
“Feeling better?” Mike crossed to the chair and crouched so he could evaluate her up close and personal.
“Much.” She leaned forward until her forehead rested on his. “Any updates?”
“Nothing.” Neil joined them.
“Remember, Ofelia said that’s a good sign.” Joe laid one of his broad hands on Morgan’s shoulder when she slumped. Kayla, James and Devon circled around their friends.
Kate approached to stand right in front of Morgan. She rubbed her own slightly rounded belly, then said softly, “Can you give us something to smile about?”
“It doesn’t feel right.” Morgan stared at her socked feet on the metal rests of the wheelchair.
Kayla marched over, taking up a post on the opposite side from Mike. She ordered, “Look at me.”
A watery gaze lifted. Tears bulged at the corner of Morgan’s eyes, threatening to fall.
“If you’re pregnant, no one would be happier for you than Dave.” Kayla shivered. “He’s talked about it almost every night while we were falling asleep. How much he was hoping for you. How much longer we’d have to wait to find out. Please, tell me it’s true. Tell me something wonderful is happening today.”
James and Devon wrapped Kayla in their protective embraces. Still, everyone
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