His voice fills the otherwise disconcertingly quiet hospital wing. Not with an angry or irritated tone, but there’s a definite rasp of concern that he’s managed to hide from me all morning. “Hey, we’ve been here for the past hour, and my wife’s been having…”
Whatever he says may as well be white noise with how easily my ears block it out after hearing the wordwife. There’s a knocking in my chest. An insistent smile quirking at my lips. A tremor that has nothing to do with my contractions. Perfect contentment washing over me, like the peace you feel the moment you’re falling asleep. And then I do.
32
Red
Itake the stairs two at a time down to the hospital main floor. The elevator seemed too much of a gamble—if it got stuck, I wouldn’t be able to get back to Cassidy. The nurse told me someone would be in to see Cass within fifteen minutes. Honestly, her words sounded like bullshit to me, considering how long we’ve been waiting. But I need to be who Cass deserves. Not a hot head. Not an asshole. So I thanked her politely and walked away.
The main floor of the hospital is busy thanks to the overcrowded emergency department. Ignoring the knotted feeling in my chest, I weave through the sea of people without taking my eye off a row of vending machines near the exit. I’m so determined, I don’t even notice somebody trying to get my attention until they’re grabbing hold of my arm roughly, yanking to stop me in my tracks. I spin around, ready to throw down, only to come face to face with Dave.
“Oh, hey.” I drop my free arm with a relieved breath.
“Where is she? Is she okay?”Fuck. Maybe Cass was right and we should’ve held off on telling him we were coming here. There’s worry painted across the grooves in his forehead, and this might be the first time in history when his gaze isn’t full of contempt when he looks at me.
“She’s good, as far as I can tell. Nobody’s checked on her since shortly after we first got admitted, so Cass sent me for snacks.” I point at the vending machine bank.
“You’ve been here for two hours and nobody has bothered to keep an eye on her? What the fuck do our taxes pay for then?” His face is turning red and, by the last sentence, he’s yelling. At least I’m not the only person who thinks this is absolutely bullshit.
“Don’t get me fucking started. I’m trying to keep my cool for Cassidy.” Plunking change into the vending machine, I buy her Flaming Hot Cheetos, ketchup chips, and an Aero chocolate bar.
Dave taps the window on the front of the machine. “Coffee Crisp is her favourite.”
“Usually, yeah. But she hasn’t touched a Coffee Crisp since she ate two in a row and threw up a couple months ago. She still can’t even think about them without getting nauseous.”
Resigned, his hand drops to his side. “Right. Okay.”
I would take the stairs again, but with Dave on my heels, I veer left toward the elevators. When the door shuts behind us, I clear my throat. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for what happened at the bar. What you said stuck with me. The last thing I want is to put Cass through even half of what my dad put Mom through. I know there are people—yourself included—who think I don’t deserve her. And you’re right. But loving your daughter is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. And I’m willing—no, not just willing. I’m fuckingeagerto bust my ass to be a man she’s proud to be with. Because I need this to work more than I need air.”
He tilts his head to look at me. “It takes a real man to admit that.”
“That’s what I’m trying to be. I’m not drinking. And no offense, but I’m not stepping foot anywhere near your bar again. I’m trying to be better.”
Questioning eyes scan my face, seeking a thread to pull. Doing his best to unravel what I’m sure he thinks is bullshit. “Cassie deserves the best.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” I step off the elevator after him and point down the hallway toward the maternity ward. “She’s right down there.”
A mixture of relief and dread sloshes in my stomach at the sight of a doctor talking to Cass. Both women turn toward us as we walk in, and I toss the snacks down at the foot of the bed, needing them out of my clammy hands before they end up scattered across the floor.
“You must be dad.” The doctor gives me a nod hello. I open my mouth to correct her—clarify that I’m the boyfriend and Dave is her dad—when I realize we’re talking about Little Spud. And,shit, I’m a dad. Based on Cass’s smirk, my face must be contorted in a way that makes it seem like this is the first I’m hearing of a baby.
“Oh, yeah.”Why is my mouth suddenly so dry?
“Perfect. So, I was explaining to Cassidy that we’d like baby to stay in until thirty-seven weeks. She’s dilated, but contractions have stopped, so I feel comfortable sending her home. That said, for the next couple weeks she needs to rest and stay hydrated. No long walks, limited stairs, no heavy lifting—and pelvic rest, too. So nothing inserted vaginally andno orgasms.”
Either somebody’s cranked up the thermostat or I’ve developed a fever randomly because I’m burning up. I can feel the flush from my stomach right up to the top of my head, which honestly might have steam coming from it. And there’s no way I can move to stand by the open window because Dave’s there, listening to all of this.
“Okay,” I croak.
“Perfect. So you’re all good to go home. Hopefully we don’t see you back here for a few more weeks.” She gives Cass a squeeze on the arm before ducking around the curtain.
“Hey, Dad. I told you that you didn’t need to come all this way.”
“You thought I’d sit at the bar waiting to hear if it was an emergency and then drive the hour to get here?”
“Well it’s silly that you drove all the way here for nothing.” Legs dangling off the side of the bed, Cass tries to reach for her shoes. Dave and I move simultaneously, nearly headbutting in an effort to be the first tohelp her. Slipping her winter boots on and tying the laces tight, I glance up to find her loving every second of this treatment. I know she’s going to get a kick out of pushing me around for the next couple weeks, not understanding that the harder she makes me work for it, the deeper in love I fall.
“Hey, Dave,” I say, still crouched with my hands on the black boot laces. “Why don’t you follow us to Cass’s house for dinner? I’ll cook.”
