We had finally been transferred to a room and while Hope rested on, Lucy beside her sleeping in a recliner, I sat in my own recliner, unable to catch a wink.
It was almost dawn and still no Anthony. Lucy was worried, too. She tried to act like she wasn’t, but her sleep was fitful and I noticed because I hadn’t slept at all. Where was he? I thought for sure he would have contacted me by now, at least to check on Hope. It was so uncharacteristic of him. And I’d called him for what seemed like a million times during the night only to get his voicemail.
Hope was doing better. She was on IV antibiotics and they were controlling her fever with meds. She already seemed more like herself, a little more alert. I’d even managed to get a smile or two.
My eyes drifted closed finally as I leaned my head back. I’d had a hell of a day and a night and I was worn out despite my worries over Doc. I couldn’t fight sleep anymore. I’d wait for the sun to come up and call my momma and let her know we were in the hospital with Hope. She’d want to come up and check on her today. I’d try calling Doc again, maybe have Lucy go check the office and the apartment. Those were my thoughts as I drifted off into a light sleep.
It was the sound of quiet humming that woke me as the very beginnings of dawn came through the window. I creeped my eyes open slowly. I thought I was dreaming, him standing there in front of the big window behind Hope’s hospital crib. That green shirt I’d kissed him goodbye in yesterday morning was untucked and unbuttoned, revealing the white cotton T-shirt beneath it. His hair was a damn mess and I knew why; my Doc loved to tug on those golden locks when he was upset. He was holding our baby to his chest, the beginnings of daylight peering through the window and just barely shining on them. He looked like an angel, a big, strong angel holding my baby. I felt like all I’d done was cry for the last twelve hours and still more tears poured from my eyes. Relief swept through me. I didn’t care where he’d been or why he’d gone, only that he was here now.
“Doc,” I said before I could stop myself. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some dream. I wanted to make sure he was here with us.
His head turned my way, his eyes meeting mine. “Shh,” he said quietly. “You’ll wake her.” He placed Hope in her crib carefully before smiling at his sleeping mom in the chair next to the crib.
He walked over to me and kneeled at the foot of the recliner. “Hey there, shorty.”
I ran a hand through his disarray of hair. “Hey, Doc.” And the tears kept coming. I tried to smile through them.
He laid his head in my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.” He pushed his hands past my seated legs until they gripped me low on my waist, between my lower back and the recliner, pulling me closer.
Pushing my hands through his hair, I said, “It’s okay.”
His head shook back and forth against my legs. “It’s not.”
“I have things I should tell you. My brother. He—”
But I cut him off. I didn’t want him to have to tell me. I didn’t want him to have to relive that right this moment. He could tell me everything when he was ready. “I know. Your mom told me.”
His face rose from my lap and he smiled up at me. “Of course she did.”
I giggled softly.
“I heard that,” came Lucy’s croaky morning voice from across the room.
Anthony laughed low and deep before standing up, stretching, and walking toward his mother, who met him in the middle of the room.
He wrapped her in a deep, heartfelt hug that had me hoping and praying Hope loved me like Anthony Jackson loved his mom. Their relationship was the stuff that dreams were made of.
“Thanks for taking care of my girls,” he said into the top of her head.
She leaned back, smiling up at him. “Hey, they’re my girls too. Stop being so greedy,” she joked.
They hugged again and she stepped out of his embrace before leaning forward and straightening the collar on his shirt. “Did you go see my baby?”
“I did.” His answer was so unashamed, so sweet, Lucy’s eyes shone.
She bit her trembling lip and I wanted to hug her. “And did he help you?”
Doc nodded. “He did, Mom.” His own eyes full of heartache and love all rolled together.
She pulled on Anthony’s collar again. “Well, of course he did. I have the two best boys ever.” She looked over at me and then at Hope. “The two best girls now, also. I’m a lucky old lady.”
She kissed Doc’s cheek. “I love you, honey.” And then she turned toward me and was on me, hugging me tightly. “I love you, too. I should go. I’ll be by later to check on Hope.”
And she was gone, like she hadn’t just broken and then healed my heart in the last five minutes.
“Your mom’s pretty damn amazing, Doc,” I said through my tears.
“I know. You’re pretty amazing, too.”
I stood from the chair and made my way to stand in front of Hope’s crib. My face flushed at his compliment. If I was only half the mother Lucille Jackson was then I was doing pretty damn good.
Doc came up behind me, laying his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there for you guys last night when I should have been.”
“It’s okay.” I’d already told him it was okay. And it was. I understood.
He let out a long breath. “It’s not okay, Kelly. I don’t want you to think I’m like Cash because I’m not. I promise I won’t ever let you down like that ever again. I love you and I love Hope and I’m in it for the long haul. I want to call her daughter and I want her to call me daddy. I want you to call me husband. Do you understand?”
I turned to face him. “I do, honey.” I rubbed the scruff on his chin and he pulled me into his chest where I could smell and feel him, the only man who could comfort me like he somehow did.
“I’m still so scared, Doc. We still have two more surgeries. I don’t know if I can dream for that long. I don’t want to be terrified anymore,” I said into his chest, my eyes leaking all over his shirt.
His palms met my cheeks and I closed my eyes. This. This was what I’d missed last night. His big hands on my face. His thumbs on my chin. His face a breath from mine. His caress sweeping me away for just a mere second, but it was enough. It would always be enough.
“No, baby. We’re not dreaming big anymore. We’re living big. We did it. We’re doing it every day. And we’ll do it tomorrow and the day after that. We’re not dreaming, we’re making memories because at some point your dreams can’t even touch the miracle that is your reality. And look at our miracle.” He turned us to face Hope. “Wake up, Kelly. You’re here. You did it.”
He was right. Looking down at my daughter, I realized all we’d accomplished. She’d made it through one life-threatening surgery. And we’d get through two more together. I wasn’t wishing or dreaming anymore. I was here and fear was keeping me from missing it all, but I hadn’t done it alone.
I grabbed Doc’s hand in mine. “No, we did it.”
His grinning lips met mine. “We did,” he whispered against them.