Finally, she shook her head and chuckled as she slid carefully from the bed. “Strip rummy would be an exercise in frustration for both of us right now, pal.” She tugged the belt of her robe a little tighter above her bump. “May I remind you of Dr. Warren‘s strict orders when I was still in the hospital?”
No, she didn’t have to remind me. I could still see the two of us, sitting in that sterile, white hospital room, Willow‘s hand in mind. She had been so shaky, so vulnerable, that she’d forgotten to keep pushing me away, and I wasn’t too proud to admit that I was taking full advantage of that by touching her hand, her face, or holding her close to me every chance I got.
Maybe the good doctor had picked up on my vibe. He’d come in to Willow’s room to deliver discharge instructions during a rare moment when her mother had not been with us. And as he ran down the list of what she could and couldn’t do once we got Willow home, Dr. Warren had paused and fixed both of us with a stern eye.
“And I know this next one is tough, especially for a couple of young kids like you, but this rule is nonnegotiable. No sex until after the baby’s been delivered.”
I nodded my head vigorously, as though that was even ever an option. As though if he hadn’t laid down that rule, Willow and I would’ve been getting it on like two happy bunnies once I took her back home. I just didn’t see any need to explain things to a doctor who wasn’t going to remember us five minutes after he’d left the room.
But Willow, ever the soul of discretion and worried about anyone getting wind of my part in her pregnancy, had shaken her head.
“Oh, we’re not together like that.” She pointed to me, and then to herself. “Dean’s a very good friend. I can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten through all of this without him.” She turned to glance at me, and in her bright green eyes, I saw gratitude. “But the sex part—that’s not something we do. So you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not – doing that—with anyone these days. I’m practically the Virgin Mary.”
Dr. Warren had nodded his head slowly, his eyes lingering on me. “Well, all right then. But just remember, should anything change between the two of you or—” He shrugged. “Anyone else in your life, Willow, no intercourse until this baby is top side.”
My reminiscence was interrupted by the sound of Willow shuffling back to her bed. I watched her closely, more aware that ever of how precious she was to me. Or maybe I thought to myself, I was just finally aware of how much I cared.
She eased onto the bed, and I helped her settle the covers back around her.
“Are we playing another game of cards, or do you want to switch to a different game?” I looked down at the cardboard box that sat at my feet. “We’ve got dominoes, Uno, battleship . . .”
Willow yawned. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes.” She pointed to my backpack, leaning up against her desk. “And while I’m dozing, maybe you should think about hitting the books, pal. Finals aren’t going to pass themselves, you know.“
I hesitated. “Do you want me to leave so you can sleep?”
Willow’s eyes flew open. “No!” she blurted and then backed up a little. “I mean, if you want to, then I understand. If you’d rather go back to your room to study, then you totally should. I’m gonna be boring here for the rest of the evening anyway.”
“Nope.” I stood up and walked over to retrieve my backpack. “Actually, you’re doing me a favor by letting me study here. Norton’s having a party in our room tonight.” I paused “Well, what passes for a party on a weeknight at West Point, I guess. One of his buddies is celebrating a birthday today, and I heard talk about whole grain alcohol, and Kool-Aid. I don’t need to be there for that. If I don’t see it, then not turning them in is not an honor violation.”
Her eyes closed once more, Willow’s lips curled into a smile. “Well, glad to be of help, then.“ Her words slurred a little as she drifted off to sleep.
With a sigh, I unzipped my backpack as quietly as I could. Although one thing I’d learned over this past week was that once Willow was asleep, I could’ve crowded the entire USMA marching band into her room to playOn, Brave Old Army Teamand she wouldn’t have stirred. The woman was an incredibly deep sleeper.
I pulled open my laptop and fired it up, balancing it on my knees, as I opened my pages of notes for Advanced American Politics. But the truth was that I was already feeling pretty confident about where I was in my classes—hell, thanks to what Norton referred to as my lack of life, I was really on top of everything. And tonight, studying wasn’t going to hold my attention very well. Every time Willow moved a little or sighed in her sleep, I lost my train of thought and found myself simply gazing at her for long moments.
It wasn’t so weird that merely watching her sleep gave me peace and comfort, I defended myself to myself. After all, given the scare we’d had, I was probably entitled to be a little clingy.
It had only been a week ago, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since then . . . or maybe just a few terrifying moments. I’d just gotten back to my room after dinner and had reached for my phone to text Willow as had become our habit. I didn’t go over to Coach’s house every night; if I had, it would have been a problem that my TAC officer couldn’t have overlooked. But because I was continuing to do well in my classes, and in all other areas of West Point life, Major Thomas seemed willing to look the other way when I visited the football coach’s house two or three nights a week, as long as I was back in the barracks before taps.
I hadn’t planned to go over that night though, since I’d hung out with Willow the day before and intended to see her again the next day, which was a Friday. I had more freedom on weekend nights; we could usually fit in a movie together on Friday or Saturday evenings without having to end it early.
But when I picked up the phone, I saw that I had three missed calls from an unknown number, followed by a text from that same number.
The text simply read:
Dean this is Patty Casey.
CALL ME!
I’d been dizzy for a crazy moment, thinking of all of the reasons that Coach’s wife would be trying to get in touch with me. Had she figured it out? Had Willow confessed that I was her baby’s father and Coach was on his way to rip me limb from limb? Or – and suddenly my hands were shaking as I punched the call back key – could it be something even more frightening than the possibility of someone else knowing the truth?
The phone only rang twice on the other end, but it felt like I stood there for an infinity, waiting for Mrs. Casey to pick it up.
“Dean?” Her voice was terse.
“Mrs. Casey, ma’am, is everything all—"
She interrupted me before I could finish my sentence. “We’re at the hospital. At Keller. Can you get here as fast as you can? Willow—” Her voice broke, and I seriously thought I was going to pass out. “Willow wants you to be here. Something’s going on, and we don’t know exactly – we’re in the emergency room, waiting to hear from the doctors. They took her back, but we don’t know anything yet.”
