“They didn’t call in a specialist,” Darion said. “I think they’ll clean her up and let her go back. She’ll have monitors to make sure everything’s okay. The first night is the most critical.”
He turned and led me away from the window to an alcove with a waiting area. I sat down on a gray cushioned chair, and he settled across from me. I focused on anything that would take my mind off the babies. Darion’s dark hair curled across his forehead, a little longer than it was when he and Tina first met. His eyes were concerned. I noticed the paint spatters across his pale yellow T-shirt. “What were you doing when Jenny called?” I asked.
“Painting a portrait,” he said. He looked down at his shirt. “These are my art duds.”
They’d dropped everything to come be with Jenny. That’s what friends did. They didn’t put themselves first. I had to pull myself together, for her.
“Go on, then, and check on the baby,” I said. “I’ll let Gavin know what is going on. Then we can update Jenny if Chance can’t get back to the room anytime soon.”
Darion stood up. “You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded. “It’s not easy, but it’s been five years. I can manage it.” I smiled up at him as convincingly as I could. “Besides, it will be your and Tina’s turn next.”
“Maybe. I have to convince her first.” He turned toward the NICU. “Is Gavin going to come?”
“Yes. He was playing pool with Mario tonight while I went to the concert, nothing important.”
Darion headed toward the NICU entrance. I picked up my phone as if I was going to send a text, but as soon as he was out of sight, I set it down again.
The past hour was a total blur. When we were busy, trying to follow Jenny’s commands for the wedding and the ambulance ride and the doctor, I was fine. But now, I could barely contain my emotions.
The image of Jenny’s baby coming out and that tiny first cry was like a stab to my heart. Finn hadn’t cried. I hadn’t known that he should have. I was so young, just seventeen. I had no idea how wrong everything could go.
Within minutes of the birth, Gavin had taken off with the NICU crew, just like Chance. And then he’d come back alone.
I leaned my head back on the chair. An older couple passed carrying balloons and flowers. Happy family, meeting their new member. More things I hadn’t known.
Might never know.
Gavin had gotten a vasectomy in the dark days after Finn died. Sometimes I tried to imagine the places he had been, the horror that was his life after he ran. But I knew that awfulness. I had been there, alone too, and not by choice.
Even though we’d found each other again, we might never get back to that place of hope. The vasectomy reversal process was expensive and didn’t always work. Gavin had gone to some illegal hack shop in Mexico for the procedure. No telling what they had done to him.
And then there was money. I was in school. Gavin was pulling every shift at the garage that Bud would give him, down to just one night class this semester. It took everything we had to manage classes and work. Having a baby anytime in the near future seemed hopeless.
Chance came out of the NICU with Darion. I jumped out of my chair. “What’s happening?” I cried. “Where’s the baby?”
“She’s fine,” Chance said. “They’re about to bring her around to the window for cleaning. I was going to see if Tina wanted to take pictures.”
I looked up at Darion for confirmation.
“She’s six pounds, which isn’t a lot, but on target for her gestational age,” Darion said. “Everything looks really good.”
I turned back to the window. They were rolling the other baby girl out of the room with her father. “So, she’ll come here?” I asked.
“Yes, in just a minute or two,” Chance said.
“I’ll go fetch Tina,” Darion said.
I stood at the window, fingers pressed against the glass. Darion took off down the hall and Chance got buzzed back into the NICU.
The room was empty, a few clear plastic cribs waiting under heat lamps for their next occupants. My throat tightened again. I felt like a seesaw, swinging up and down and down and up. Control, then losing it. Happy for Jenny, miserable for myself. How did anyone bear something like this?
I remembered I had never texted Gavin and wrote a quick message.
Jenny had the baby. A girl. Small but healthy. We’re at the hospital if you want to come up.
He wrote back quickly.
Be right there. You holding up okay?
I held on to the phone for a moment. Tell him the truth, or play it off? I opted for truth.
Struggling not to fall apart, actually.
Coming now. I won’t let you go through this alone.
I leaned my forehead against the glass, cool and smooth. The halls were quiet on a Saturday night.
I closed my eyes and let myself pretend that I was waiting on my own baby, that the sounds and smells around me were part of a world that waited for me. In just a moment, the newborn would be rolled into the room, and my parents would snap pictures and smile.