I turned a corner to the nursery. “Hey, Dale,” I said to the charge nurse, who was sitting at the desk with his feet up, reading a dark fantasy novel.
Dale happened to be six-foot-five, with little gold hoop earrings, a ponytail, and lots of tattoos. He looked more like abiker dude than a nurse in charge of newborns—but I happened to know that his heart was a giant bowl of melted ice cream. On seeing me, he lowered his feet and set down his book. “It must be ER night in the nursery. Dr. Green just came to love up the baby up a little. You come back for another turn too?”
I hoped he hadn’t told Ani I’d already been by twice today. Only to make sure things were getting done and to look in on the baby, whom they were calling “Baby Smith,” an alias, of course, which made me feel sad. “I’m here this time to talk to Dr. Green.”
And I’d better not screw things up again.
He hiked a thumb behind his head. “We’ve had staff from every floor coming down. Poor little thing.” He shook his head, and I could swear he was getting teary. So I patted him on the back. Which was a little awkward.
But, it turned out, appreciated. “Thanks, Doc.” Dale wiped his eyes under his glasses. “It’s so unfair to get such a crappy start in the world, isn’t it?” He sighed. “You can go on back.”
I was thinking that I’d rather go into a pit of snakes than in a room with a handful of zesty newborns—and Ani Green, but just then, she looked up and saw me in the doorway.
She was sitting in a white wooden rocker, holding the baby. Her bright smile, her wave, the way she lit up—well, that same reaction overtook me that always did when I was near her—a sudden flush, a pounding of my heart, the strike of a match when our gazes met. As if I usually lived in black and white, but when she was near, I saw color.
I, who had responded to countless emergencies by acting quickly, froze. And then she gestured for me to come on in. And suddenly everything felt better. Except for my too-honest text.
Ani wore red lipstick. And a sparkly dress. Her curls were more contained but never fully, thank God. She looked incredible.
I couldn’t look away.
I finally had to as Dale handed me a pale-yellow hospital gown, holding it open for me to slide my arms into. “When you go in, be sure to talk quietly. All the little peeps are asleep, and I want to get through the next chapter before any of them wake up. Once one wakes up, it’s dominoes—a real war zone in there.”
“Thanks, Dale.” I walked into the nursery, where the lights were pleasantly dimmed. A half-dozen bassinets were lined up, each containing a little sausage-shaped bundle swaddled in white flannel and wearing a blue or pink cap. It was a baby dorm, and everyone was tucked in for the night.
It was a happy place, but unsettling for me to be here. Liv had loved babies. We’d both wanted one so desperately. I tried to tell myself that it was a good thing that we weren’t able to have one, because I couldn’t imagine how difficult it would have been for a child to lose her too.
I tried to focus on the positive vibe of the nursery and, of course, seeing Ani. She was all dressed up, with dangly silver earrings with pearls on the ends that matched her sparkly dress. A pair of red heels sat kicked off near her chair. And wow, those legs. No doubt about it. She was a knockout. My attraction to her was never the problem.
Or rather, maybe that was the whole problem.
It had been a long time since I’d noticed a woman like that—ten months, precisely.
As I took a seat beside her in another rocker, Ani gave me a quick nod of acknowledgment then continued beaming at the baby, fast asleep in her arms, her mouth a perfect little O.
“Angel kissed.”
“What did you say?” I realized I was staring at Ani, not the baby, so I quickly changed my focus to the bundle in her arms.
She gestured with her head toward the baby. “She’s angel kissed.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. The baby was a tiny little thing with a shock of dark hair and tiny, elegant fingers splayed out on the blanket as she slept.
I had to look away. I had a hard time dwelling on such sweetness. It reminded me of an innocent time, of the person that I no longer was.
“See her eyelids?” Ani circled her index finger over the baby’s face. Some mildly red marks were embossed over the baby’s eyelids. “They’re simple nevi that fade with time. But we call them angel kisses.”
“You pediatricians.” I shook my head. “Are you here to examine her?”
She laughed. “I kept thinking about her. So I stopped by.” As she lowered her head to watch the baby sleep, I noticed that she had long, pretty eyelashes.
I tried to focus on something other than my growing desire, which felt overpowering. “Judging by the way you’re dressed, there has to be more to that story.”
“Let’s just say that I’d rather be here than at my parents’ fancy party and leave it at that. Did you want a turn to hold her too?” She moved to hand over the baby.
“No, I—” I was starting to sweat a little. “I’m fine watching you hold her.”
“Good, more time for me. I want to hold her all night.” Ani settled in, cradled the baby in her arms, still smiling.
