He stood, glanced at his phone. “Oh, Leigh just texted. She’ll be back with her daughter to visit soon.”
This bothered Gwen—that they’d exchanged numbers, that Leigh wasn’t wholly Gwen’s anymore. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to see Leigh, with her perfectly healthy tits and her nonpoison milk and her nipple-loving baby.
Jeff must have perceived her hesitation, because he said, “I can tell her not to come if you’re not up for it.”
“No, it’s okay.” Maybe Leigh’s company would be nice. Leigh would get it, better than Jeff ever would. Leigh would make her feel sane.
Jeff glanced again at his phone, no doubt checking messages from his firm. In their line of work, nobody cared about medical emergencies.
“Work piling up?” she asked.
He jammed his phone into his pocket and said, “Work is not important right now.”
It was a kind lie.
“All right, I’ll get the pump and some food and then come back?” he said. “Do you want me to leave June with you?”
She nodded. Of course she wanted him to leave June with her. The fact that this medical emergency had presented the possibility of June being away from her was a trauma in itself.
“Okay, I’ll be back with burritos from Lupe’s. Sound good?”
Nothing sounded good, but she nodded.
“Okay, love you,” he said with a hurried kiss on her cheek.
Then he was gone. It was like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Leigh arrived a short time later with Belle strapped to her chest. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, and Gwen felt simultaneously guilty and grateful for the time and energy Leigh had been giving to Gwen. They barely knew each other, really, and yet Leigh felt like someone Gwen loved—or needed. Was there a difference between the two?
“Oh my god, you poor thing,” Leigh said, hurrying to Gwen’s bedside.
Gwen started crying, happy tears this time, in response to Leigh’s care and empathy. That was what she hadn’t felt from Jeff—empathy.
“How are you feeling?” Leigh asked.
“Better physically. Mentally, I’m a wreck. I can’t feed June. They gave her formula,” Gwen said.
Leigh looked appropriately horrified.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“I can’t feed from the right boob. I’m afraid to feed her when I’m on these antibiotics. I don’t know if my supply has totally tanked.”
The tears were coming faster now, sliding down her cheeks in two rivers.
“Okay, deep breaths,” Leigh said.
Leigh took her own long inhale, demonstrating, then exhaled.
Gwen did her best to follow along.
Just then, a nurse came in to change out the IV bag. She either didn’t notice that Gwen had been crying or didn’t care.
“Hi there,” she said with a robotic smile.
She unhooked the bag that was currently on the hook and replaced it with another.
“You’re looking better,” the nurse said.
