Nicole’s behind the four of us, carting down the last articles we’d brought.
When we’re all tucked into the car, Nicole remembers something. “Hey. Weird. We didn’t need a cab after all. Rebecca’s not here.”
Mark and I share an incredulous look at that unexpected turn of events and I start the car, backing up at a nice, safe speed. The sun has finally gone down and while we can’t see it, its presence is still felt in the light gray sky. The fog is rolling in off the water, creeping up the base of the bridge, and Annie looks out the window at it as we begin the journey back.
We ride in silence, everybody tired. About halfway across the Golden Gate, Annie’s voice is happy. “New memory, honey.”
In the rearview mirror, I meet her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“For the fog. It was foggy the night Jacob first opened his eyes. Reframing the memory of fog.” She smiles.
I twist in the seat. “Did he just open both his eyes?!”
Mark hits me in the arm, his voice happy. “Watch the road, Papa.”
Laughing, I do as he says, but not without muttering out of the corner of my mouth. “Shut it.” And to myself, “I can’t believe I missed that.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Annie
Jacob…you are my Prince. Brendan, my King.
“Under the circumstances, I’d say you’re very lucky, Mrs. Clark.” The obstetrician places Jacob into my adoring arms. “He’s doing fine; a very healthy baby. We’d like to keep him here for a few days.” She slips her hands in the large pockets of her lab coat.
I frown to Nicole, who’s sitting in the weird little chair they have in every room. “Without me?”
Patiently the doctor informs me, “We usually keep newborns here with us for a couple days to ensure everything is okay. And in this situation, with the unusual birthing he went through, I’m sure you understand.”
“Mmmhmm. Nicole, where’s Brendan?”
She rises from her chair. “Let me go check.”
Returning a moment later with Brendan, I can tell by his face that she already told him they want to keep Jacob here. “But it’s Christmas,” he tells the doctor.
She nods and glances to me. “I know. But you two can go home.”
Brendan walks over and looks down at our son’s sleeping face. He reaches for my hand and asks the doctor, “Everything okay with Annie, then?”
Mark walks in and joins Nicole standing by the wall. The doctor addresses all of us, switching focus to include everyone in the group. “She needed a few stitches where there was some tearing. And two on her lip, but other than that, the bruises will fade. Nothing was broken.”
Everyone quietly exhales. Including me, but mine is more of a sigh as I stare at my son’s face, so perfect and rosy, the baby hairs making him appear as though his skin was made of dandelions.
Brendan says, “What if we took him home for a couple hours and then brought him back?”
I glance up to see the doctor’s answer. She blinks, never having considered that option. “Well, that’s never been done before.”
I laugh, “Sounds like us, then.”
Brendan’s staring at her, hoping she won’t say no. Nicole and Mark entwine fingers, their faces hopeful also. The doctor couldn’t be in a tighter predicament. If she says no, it’s like she’s ruining Christmas. But she frowns and we all relax our shoulders, disappointed. “I don’t see why not. As long as you bring him back in a couple hours. Or three. I guess that would be okay.”
Brendan lets out a loud “Yes!” And Nicole lets go of Mark’s hand to clap enthusiastically, her happy smile trained on me. I’m tired, so my reaction is more subdued, but I do love the idea of having the little guy see the tree on actual Christmas Day, his birthday.
We promise, assuring the doctor that we’ll be back. Brendan excuses Nicole from the duties of helping me up, taking me in his strong arms and lifting me and the baby to place in a wheelchair. Rolling me out of San Francisco General, I look up at Brendan, his hands pushing the chair out the electronic doors. “We spend too much time here.”
When we get to the penthouse, I ask where the car is. “I didn’t even think of it when we were driving across the Golden Gate. Why are we in a rental car?”
“I’ll tell you later, baby,” Brendan says, as he picks me up to carry me.
“I can walk!”
“No. I’m sorry, but no.” He smiles into my