protect her—that’s my job, right? As her emergency contact, it’s my job to look out for her, and as the . . . father. I swallow hard.
I’m going to be a father.
Dr. Ellis continues, placing the gel on her swollen belly and the small handle. “Watch the screen,” he tells me.
Stepping as close to the bed as I can get, my eyes lock onto the little black screen. I’m just about to ask what I’m looking for when the screen turns to black and white. And there, in a tight little ball, is my son.
I have a son.
“Ten fingers.” The doctor points to the screen. “Ten toes.” He points again. “This is his heartbeat, steady and strong. He’s a fighter.”
I grip the side of the bed to keep from falling over. It’s all too much to take in. There he is—a part of me, on that tiny, little black and white screen. I have so many emotions running through me I can’t even identify them all.
Without thinking, I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Hey, Melissa. You need to stay strong, fight. He needs you.”
Dr. Ellis, takes some measurements and points out different things. The baby starts to suck on his thumb, so he zooms in on that. I’m enthralled with watching him. All too soon, the screen goes black and Dr. Ellis is wiping off her belly.
“Here.” He hands me a CD. “I recorded it for you. I also have these.” Reaching beneath the machine, he tears off a long, thin strip of paper.
Pictures.
Of my son.
“Thank you,” I rasp.
He leaves the room, taking the machine with him, just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see ‘Dad’ flash across the screen. I don’t know if I can even have my phone on in here; will it mess with all these machines? I let the call go to voicemail and step out of the room.
“I need to make a call. Am I allowed to use this here?” I ask Alice once I reach the nurses’ station.
“Yeah, we just ask that you leave it on vibrate, and of course end any calls when the physician is in the room,” she tells me.
“Thank you. Can I stay?” I point over my shoulder.
“Yeah, she’s stable for now. But if anyone asks, I told you no.” She winks at me.
I nod since smiling back would take too much effort at this point. I walk back to her room and take the chair next to the bed, swiping the screen to call my dad back.
“Ridge, how was the gala?” He chuckles. Dad knows that’s not my thing.
“I didn’t make it. Tonight has been . . . one for the books,” I confess.
“What’s going on, son?”
My parents’ are awesome, always there for Reagan and me growing up, and even now as adults. I know I can go to them with anything. Looking at my watch, I see that it’s after ten at night. “It’s a long story. I’m not hurt, but I’m still at the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
I can hear the worry in his voice. “Yeah, would you be able to . . . ?”
“I’m on my way. Your mother?”
I love that he gets me. He wants to know if he should bring Mom or if this is a ‘guys’ conversation. At this point, I need all the support I can get. “Yeah, if she’s not already asleep. Just ask the nurse at the reception desk to get me. I’ll let them know I’m waiting for you.”
“We’re leaving now.”
Just like that, no questions asked. I should probably call Reagan and the guys, but I just can’t find the strength to do it. I will also have to deal with Stephanie at some point. She’s obviously pissed, hence the reason I haven’t heard from her since I told her I wasn’t going to make it to the gala.
There are more important things in life.
When Alice comes in to check Melissa’s vitals, I inform her that I’m waiting on my family.
“I’ll let the receptionist know where to find you.”
“Thank you.” I spend the next fifteen minutes studying the pictures of my son. I’m glad that I have them; it makes this more real. It will be easier to explain with proof.
A little while later, Alice peeks her head in the door. “Your family just arrived. I had Kate put them in the private room you were in before.”
“Thanks.” I stand and grab the letter and with one last parting look at Melissa, I leave the