Page 93 of Expecting an Argument
I looked up and found a massive lamp of blue and yellow hexagonal lights like a honeycomb directly above me. My heart threatened to pound right out of my chest. A woman in a surgical mask appeared at the edge of my vision.
She put a clear mask over my nose and mouth. “OK, take a breath and count backward from one hundred.”
“No,” I shakily responded, my breath fogging up the mask. “I want Beau here.”
A masked smile reached the woman’s brown eyes. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”
“That’s what Beau says…” I said breathlessly.
Then my eyes fluttered closed and darkness swallowed me.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I gritted my teeth to stop myself from ripping the damned ticking clock off the wall of the hospital waiting room. My back ached as I slumped in the hard plastic chair, clutching the straps of Olivia’s purse with Ms. Brady’s ashes inside. As odd as it was to hold her mother in a bag, I was glad for the company as I waited for Olivia’s c-section to finish.
I was happy that the medical team was completely focused on Olivia and the twins, but I would have solemnly sworn to never watch football again if I could have had just one update. Worry tore through each of my muscles and I threatened to crack the tile with how hard the heel of my boot rattled against it.
Despite how hard I tried to stay positive, I couldn’t shake the image of all that blood coming out of Olivia. My grandfather’s words haunted me. All my luck ran out at birth. Fortune would never favor me or mine ever again. I was going to lose Olivia. Ormy babies. Or both.
I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my forehead against my tight knuckles.
God,pleaseGod, don’t let me lose them.
A soft pair of footsteps approached and I lifted my head. A nurse had appeared and I held my breath as she gave me the details of the surgery. My hands loosened around the purse straps when she told me that Olivia was being wheeled into a recovery room, but I only exhaled when she gave me the news of my babies.
My sweet Annie Cherie was born at 2:33 a.m., weighing 5 pounds and 8 ounces. Big boy Brady Louis came just three minutes later, weighing 6 pounds even. Their APGAR scores were perfect and their lungs were fully developed. Even though they came early, they didn’t need to go to the special care unit. Instead, they were in the nursery, ready to meet their parents.
Though I could hardly wait to finally lay eyes on my babies, I refused to see them without their mother.
Beep…beep…beep.
God, that sound was annoying.
I slowly opened my eyes and blinked through my blurry vision. I scanned the wood-paneled room, trying to find the source of that awful beeping sound, when I discovered a man at the side of my bed.
I hadn’t remembered getting in bed or being with a man, but the stranger held my right hand and rested his blonde head on top of it.
“Whoooo are you?” I asked, my tongue feeling like rubber in my mouth.
The man lifted his head and looked at me—wow, he was gorgeous.
“Oh, you’rehandsome.”I giggled. “What are you doing in my bed?”
The man smirked. “Waiting for your anesthesia to wear off.”
Ana-what? Whatever, more important matters were at hand.
I tilted my head to the side. “Are you my boyfriend?”
He laughed—God, why was he so hot when he laughed?
“You told me you didn’t want a boyfriend,” he said. “In fact, you told me over and over that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
My chest shook and tears welled up in my eyes. “Why would I say that when you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen?”
Beep…beep…beep.
I turned my head. “And what is that noise?” I looked down, finding wires in my hands and arms. “And what are these? Oh God, am I a robot? Is that why I can’t love?”
