while.”
“We’ll sit with you for a bit,” Mom says.
“No, you guys go on home. I’m going to go sit with her. They’re moving her out of the ER and into the ICU. I’ll call you tomorrow. Dad, thanks for taking care of things at the shop.”
“You don’t worry about a thing. I got it. If there’s something I need, I’ll call you. You remember to do the same.” He pierces me with his ‘listen to me, I’m your father’ look that I used to get more often than not as a teenager.
I nod, hug them both, and head back to Melissa.
It’s after midnight by the time they get her moved to the ICU. The nurses pitched a fit when I said I was staying in her room—apparently guests aren’t allowed to stay overnight. I don’t know what she said to them, but Alice spoke to the nurses and then the doctors. I have strict rules to stay out of the way, but I’m allowed to stay.
I settle into the chair that flattens into a not-so-comfortable bed. The pillow that Alice gave me is so flat I can hardly call it one. Sleep evades me. My mind is racing and as soon as I do start to drift off, someone is in the room, checking on Melissa. I drift off again and they’re checking on the baby. I’m not going to complain, though; it’s reassuring to know they’re getting such good care.
I finally give up at around six in the morning, when Dr. Ellis brings in the ultrasound machine.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.
“No, but I want to make sure I get a good look at this little guy at least once a day.”
I sit up to watch him set the machine up and place the gel across Melissa’s abdomen. He’s quiet as he takes his measurements.
“She’s measuring at thirty-seven weeks.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I confess.
“Full term is forty weeks. If we had to deliver from this day moving forward, I feel confident on the outcome. She’s been getting IV steroids, which will help strengthen the little guy’s lungs.”
“Will that hurt her?”
“No, it’s safe for both of them.”
“Good.”
The morning nurse stops in for dressing changes and I step out, hitting up the vending machine for a stale coffee and a pack of donuts. I haven’t eaten since yesterday at lunch. I take a walk out to the garden in the center of the hospital. It’s a safe place for patients who are not in the ICU to walk outside and get some fresh air. The morning air is crisp and I relish it, sucking in a slow, deep breath, thinking maybe I can catch a quick cat nap.
My phone vibrates. No such luck.
Stephanie: Where are you?
Me: Hospital.
Stephanie: Call me.
Here we go. I tap on her contact and wait for her to pick up.
“Hello.”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Everything okay?”
“No.”
“Oookay. Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Care to fill me in?”
“I don’t really want to do this over the phone,” I tell her.
“I have a busy day today, Ridge. Just tell me what’s going on.”
So, I do, giving her the condensed version. Only I leave out the fact that Melissa was just a one-night stand because, at this point, it’s no longer relevant. After I explain the flat-tire girl and the accident, I pause. I know she’s not going to take this well. “And . . . uh, Melissa . . . She’s pregnant.”
“Good for her. What does that have to do with you?”
How have I put up with her for this long? “It’s mine. We were together before I met you. About eight months ago was the last time.” I don’t know why I don’t want her to know, I just don’t.
“So, you’re having a baby?”
“Yes. He’s due in three weeks.”
“He? I guess you all are going to be a little happy family, huh?”
Bitch! “What part of ‘she’s still in a coma’ did you not understand?” I seethe.
“Look, I have to go. Can we talk about this later?”
“Whatever.” I end the call. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with petty drama. I have an unborn son and his mother, who is fighting for her life that I need to take care of.
Chapter 6
It’s day three and so far, no change. Melissa still continues to slumber on, but her vitals are holding strong so her doctor is hopeful. The baby’s also proved to be a fighter. His vitals are strong, as is his heartbeat, which