CHAPTER ONE
Rubi Walsh hurried through the Emery University Midtown Hospital doors, catching a frightening look at herself in the reflective surface. The midnight phone call and the redeye flight from California to Georgia made her blond hair look like she’d slept with squirrels, and the dark circles under her eyes were vampire-worthy. No wonder she’d had a hard time getting a taxi.
The doors whooshed closed behind her, but the humidity sucked to her skin like a heavy, welcome-home hug, a hug she desperately needed after learning about Jelly Bean.
She pushed the elevator button once, twice, a third time. Her baby sister, CarolAnn, was in the women’s center on the eighth floor. The hospital was hushed by the early hour, making Rubi’s impatient movements echo in the stillness. Dawn was at least an hour away, maybe more.
Rubi eyed the stairs, wondering if she had enough adrenaline left to take on eight flights. Just as she was ready to charge ahead and find her sister, the bell dinged and the elevator doors slid open.
She was the only person in the large lift, and she took the time to compose herself. Carolyn had choked out the wordsmiscarriageandalone,and Rubi found herself at the computer making hurried travel arrangements before they’d hung up.
Once on the eigth floor, she checked in at the nurses’ station. “Hello, I’m here to see my sister.”
The nurse, elbow deep in chart work, didn’t look up as she informed her, “Visiting hours are from eight to ten.”
Rubi checked the time. 4:31 a.m. There was no way she could wait. “Thank you for pointing that out, but I’m afraid I have to see her now.” She looked at her phone, debating calling Carolyn to get her room number and opted against waking her.
The nurse checked two boxes and then looked up. His oblong face instantly brought to mind a Mr. Potato Head toy. He had the cheeks to go with it and a set of wire-rimmed glasses. Recognition dawned, causing his eyebrows to leap towards his bald head. “You’re are you Rubi Walsh?”
Rubi put on her cover photo smile. If a fan connection would get the information she needed, then she’d be more than happy to oblige. “I am. And you are?”
“I’m Tyson. I can’t believe this.” He smacked his forehead. “School dayswas my favorite show growing up. I was so mad when Camron dumped you. He was an idiot.”
She laughed lightly, a technique she’d perfected in acting classes when she was eight. “Thanks! I always thought so.”
“Would you mind?” He held up his cell phone for a selfie.
She let her smile slip. “I’m here to see my sister and I don’t want it to get out that she’s in the hospital. How about an autograph?”
He smacked his head again. “Right! Sorry. Here.” He shoved a paper and pen across the counter before spinning to face his computer. “I’ll look her up. What’s her name?”
“Carolyn Hill.” Rubi wrote a quick note, thanking Tyson for his help and signed with a flourish.
“Room 824.” He turned back and grabbed for the autograph. “Thanks! My wife is gonna freak out. She’s a huge fan.”
Rubi moved away from the counter, happy that he had a Mrs. waiting at home. Mr. Potato Head was never complete until he had his Mrs.
“That’s so sweet. Tell her I said hello.” She gave a small wave.
“I will!” he about stood out of his chair in his excitement.
The hospital corridor was like a tunnel where every sound magnified, in contrast to the soft beeps, coos, and lullabies like echoes of what could have been. The floor tiles were white with a mauve border, all freshly buffed and gleaming. The mauve wainscoting was topped with a dark pine handrail. Above the rail were images of expectant mothers standing in sunflower fields, the wind blowing their hair and white dresses behind them. They looked like angels, which was probably the point.
Rubi’s eyes stung thinking of Carolyn passing through this hallway to leave the hospital without baby Jelly Bean in her tummy or her arms. Most of the patient doors were open to faint cooing sounds and snoring. However, the door to room 824 was almost shut. There was a laminated picture of a leaf with a water droplet, like one large tier, falling into a pond taped to the door. A pond of sorrow. The other doors had babies behind them, not laminated cards on the door.
She pushed it open to find a checkered curtain pulled around the bed. The lights were off, except for a lamp in the corner that shed a golden glow. Rubi moved slowly towards the curtain, not wanting to wake Carolyn.
She peeked around the curtain and saw her twenty-two-year-old baby sister curled into a ball, her arms hugging her stomach, and giant tears soaking the pillow. “Sis.” Rubi dropped her purse and fell into the bed. Carolyn turned in to her with a sob and hung on as if Rubi were there to pull her from a dark and lonely hole. She sputtered and stammered, gasping for breath.
“You go right on and cry.” Rubi rocked the two of them as best she could while Carolyn shook. “You cry all you want.” She choked on her own tears before finally giving way to the grief.
At three months premature, Jelly Bean, as they’d called her, was the most anticipated baby on the planet. Rubi’s heart crunched as she remembered threatening to snatch her away if Carolyn actually named the girl Jelly Bean. How could she have ever joked about something like taking away her sister’s baby?
They lay there for hours, crying, sharing moments about the pregnancy, hopes colored in pinks and creams. When Carolyn’s breakfast tray arrived, Rubi took a moment to wash her face and pull her hair back in the small bathroom.
Carolyn’s short, dark hair lay flat against her scalp and her dark eyes were as dull as the pancakes on her plate. She picked at her food.
“Sweetie.” Rubi patted her hand. “Where’s Trent?” Carolyn’s husband was loud and backwoods-crass. He’d grabbed Carolyn’s behind during their you-may-kiss-the-bride moment and let out the rebel yell as they’d walked down the aisle as man and wife. Rubi had her reservations about the guy before that, but for the sake of her relationship with her sister, she’d kept her mouth shut.
