Then I furrow my brow. “Well, I guess I do, but not, you know …”
“By me?” she offers.
I’m not sure how to save myself on that one, but luckily, I’m interrupted by my phone ringing. I’m so concerned when I see Loren’s name on the caller ID that I don’t even apologize to Daisy before I answer the call.
“Lo? What’s wrong?”
“Landry,” says a familiar voice on the other side, though it’s not my sister’s. “It’s JD. I’m calling you from Loren’s phone because we’re on the way to the hospital. I thought you’d want to know.”
“What?” I ask dumbly. “Is she … are the babies …”
“Tenley thinks she’s having a placental abruption.”
“I’m on my way.” My breathing quickens, and I turn to Daisy. “Get inside. Now.”
Her eyes widen. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Loren. I’ve gotta go,” I practically yell.
Daisy nods and scrambles out of the passenger seat. “Will you let me know if they’re okay?”
I nod shortly to get her out of the way before I throw my Jeep into reverse and peel out of the driveway, leaving Daisy at the edge of the front porch with her arms wrapped around her middle.
CHAPTER 4
landry
I don’t makeit back to the house until after ten that evening, and I only leave the hospital once my older sister Lilley tells me I’ve overstayed my welcome. Loren and the twins are all stable, even though she’ll need a few days to recover from the surgery and the babies will be spending some time in the NICU.
I sigh and run my fingers through my hair after I pull into the driveway and park beside Daisy’s green Volkswagen Beetle. I guess I was so distracted with unpacking that I missed it this morning.
This morning seems like a lifetime ago. And the problems that seemed so big earlier today feel so petty now.
My eyes sting as I let the events of the last few hours sink in, and my hand flies to my chest as it heaves against my will. It still feels like I’m due to wake up from a horrible dream any second now. Loren was so close to losing her babies, and we were so close to losing her. My sister and I might have our differences, but she’s still one of the most important people in my world. And the worst part about all of this is that I have no control over the situation. I’m a doctor, yet I couldn’t stop it from happening. Hell, having a maternal-fetal specialist on speed dial couldn’t even help this time. And it gets even harder to breathe as I recall the way I tried so hard to prevent all of this in the first place.
Aside from the irony of Loren getting pregnant with a guy like Blake, what are the chances that she’d conceive twins and develop a condition like placenta previa? And after months of begging both of them to take her health more seriously and getting repeatedly told to butt out, my worst fears were all playing out right in front of me. Thankfully, Tenley was around to diagnose Loren’s placental abruption and get Dr. Simms to perform an emergency C-section in time. Still, this could have all been avoided had they just listened to me.
I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more scared or angry in my life.
And that’s why I couldn’t stop myself from marching into the hospital waiting room and calling Blake Bourgeois a selfish bastard. The man was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands and his back against the wall, blood staining his arms and clothes. I knew he was gutted. I knew he’d have done anything to take her place or to go back in time and do things differently. He must have been at a loss as to who or what to hope for, that he was probably waiting for them to come out any second and tell him he’d lost one or both of his daughters or their mother. While I love my sister and have always made it my priority to keep her safe, I can’t claim the same level of devotion a father experiences with his children. I’d like to imagine that must be a different kind of love, something compulsive, involuntary, and biologically ingrained.
Then again, I’ve seen too many cases of child abuse and neglect to believe that’s true for all parents. And if Blake’s attachment is anything like what my father apparently felt for his wife and kids, then my loyalty to Loren is still unrivaled.
And now I’m letting myself get bogged down in all of the negatives again.
I try to shift my thoughts to something else, but I can’t get past the miserable look on Blake’s face when I gave in to the impulse to lash out at him. He kept his eyes down, silently nodding in agreement as another sob wracked his body. I pinned him with the blame, knowing he’d feel too guilty to defend himself, and he simply accepted it. It was his brother who cut a dangerous glare my way and ordered me to either keep my mouth shut or go home. At the time, I couldn’t believe JD had the audacity to threaten me—I mean, Loren ismysister, not his. He may be her friend now, but I’ve been taking care of her for years. I was the one consoling her each time our parents let her down, while the Bourgeois brothers were busy contributing to the problem by stealing our dad’s attention.
But now that I’m taking the time to process all this, I can’t help thinking JD was only trying to defend his sibling as fiercely as I was trying to protect my own. And it turns out that “I told you so” wasn’t as satisfying as my anger promised it would be, and it certainly hadn’t helped Loren or the babies.
In the end, I managed to keep the rest of my uglier remarks to myself in exchange for Blake’s consent to check on the babies in the NICU, and I at least got to look in on my sister in recovery. But my presence only served to make myself feel better, if I’m being honest.
“Shit, Landry,” I mutter to myself and pound my fist against the steering wheel. It takes a few more deliberate inhales and exhales, as well as a reminder that Loren and the twins are, in fact, going to be okay for me to shake the worst of those overwhelming feelings of dread.
I lift my head and glance up at the small shotgun house in front of me. It’s such a strange contradiction to my current mood: quaint, cheerful, cozy. There’s a fresh coat of mint green paint on the front door. The plethora of new plants scattered throughout the flower beds and the pots lining the porch must also be of Daisy’s doing, since I’ve never known Loren to have much of a green thumb. And Daisy would certainly know a thing or two about gardening.
She also seems to understand how to get along with everyone in Camellia better than I expected, given her negligible opportunities for socialization before now. Not to mention she’s only been here a short amount of time. While my last roommate shared the same last name and generically likable traits as Daisy, his people skills hadn’t really rubbed off on me. But Rowan isn’t as talkative or extraverted as his baby sister, so I guess there’s a chance I could benefit from observing her interactions.
Maybe I could learn a little something about focusing on the positives from my new roommate. That is, if her sunshine doesn’t give me a sunburn first.
