I lay there for several long minutes; wholly aware I wasn’t going to get any rest. Unsettled, I slid out of bed and padded into the hall. Jacqueline looked up from her desk. “Sweetie, what’re you doing up at this hour?”
I turned my head, panning up and down the hall. There wasn’t another person in sight. The lights were dimmed. Except for the beeps of the monitors, the hall was silent. “I’m going t-to the nursery to see the baby.”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“Three A.M.?” It wasn’t possible. Gram couldn’t have left more than a few minutes ago…
“Mattie, are you feeling ok?” Standing, she circled the desk and approached me. Her hand immediately rose to my forehead, checking for a fever.
Feeling ok? No. I was confused. My thoughts swam through my head in a thick fog. “I must’ve f-fallen asleep.”
“Have you been crying?”
Reaching up, I touched my face, still damp with tears.
“Maybe you should go back to bed,” Jacqueline suggested. Placing her hand against my lower back, she guided me back into the room.
At her insistence, I went back to bed. The doctor came, asked a slew of questions. Have you had any headaches? Nausea? Double vision? Slurring of speech? Dizziness? The questions went on. And those freaking pen lights. They were going to cause retinal damage.
“Can I see my son now?” I asked, blinking away the floaters in my vision. My disorientation gave way to annoyance and fatigue.
The doctor looked up from his tablet long enough to dismiss my request. “You should rest. I’ll prescribe something to help you sleep.”
“I can’t t-t-take anything. I’m breastfeeding.”
This time, the doctor paused, resting his tablet on the table. “Matilda, I’m worried that you’re overexerting yourself.”
“Jacqueline can wheel me down.”
Removing his glasses from his face, he rubbed his eyes. “Have you ever heard the analogy of the plane losing altitude? The cabin quickly loses pressure. The air masks drop down from the ceiling. Does the mother place the mask on her child’s face first, or her own?”
“She places the mask over her own f-face f-first,” I replied. I had heard it before. A mother was no good to her child if she was unconscious. She had to take care of herself first.
“Your son needs you healthy.”
“You’re right,” I yawned. Stretching out, I pulled the blankets up under my chin. “Maybe I should skip therapy t-tomorrow, t-t-too. Balancing your checkbook while measuring rice really wears you out.”
“You can go to the nursery,” the doctor permitted. “Just promise that you’ll get some sleep. I’ve been past your room while on rotation. It’s never empty.”
“The downside of having an extended family.”
“How about today we put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?”
“Deal.”
“After therapy.”
“Stickler.” Tossing back the covers, I shimmied to the edge of the bed. The doctor placed his hand on my shoulder, just as I was about to stand.
“Do me one more favor and wait for the wheelchair.”
“I’m f-fine. Swear.” Nonetheless, I waited. Though Jacqueline swore that Gram hadn’t been to see me, I knew adamantly she had been in the room. I wasn’t crazy. I could still smell her perfume for Christ’s sake. She’d worn the brand for as long as I could remember.
Ambivalently, Haris popped into mind. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t.
It was a matter of guilt and exhaustion.
When I wasn’t in therapy, I was with the baby, receiving visitors, or having my vitals read by one of the various nurses at some odd hour. I was tired, so fucking tired it wasn’t funny.
I wasn’t crazy.
“Mattie?” said Jacqueline, softly. “Sweetie?”
I stood. The motion was automatic. There was no thought involved. I stood. I shuffled to the wheelchair. And I dropped into the leather seat. Jacqueline dropped the foot rests down, and we were off.
The walk was silent. She didn’t press for conversation. For that, I was grateful. I couldn’t take another minute. Too many thoughts were already spinning around my head. I didn’t need any more fodder to fuel the crazy. God knows, I was struggling enough as it was.
When we finally reached the nursery, I found Monica inside, swaying back and forth to comfort the crying baby in her arms. It didn’t seem to care for her gesture of consolation. It’s tiny wails of distress echoed through the plate glass window and plucked at my heart strings.
Peering through the window, I found Iain’s bassinet empty. I realized with a mixture of shock and dismay that the crying baby was Iain. Rapping lightly on the glass, I waved. Monica glanced up, relief brightening her wide, brown eyes. She immediately began weeding her way through the room, heading for the entrance door, which was secured.
As she pushed open the door, I was hit with the full force of Iain’s wails. His tiny chin was quivering, his mouth gaping with displeasure. “He found his lungs,” Monica observed. “And he’s letting it be known.”
“Holy crow” was all I could manage. I was taken aback and a tad nervous. I’d seen plenty of crying infants during my internships, but this one was mine.
“Do you want to try feeding him?” Monica suggested.
“Sorry. Wow. Yeah.” As I reached for him, Monica placed him gently into my arms.
“There’s a glider over there.” She pointed to a wooden rocker across the room. It was pine with a blue cushion. It could’ve been made of swords and nails for what I cared. As long as I could stop Iain’s wailing.
Adjusting him in my arms, I headed for the chair. His tiny body was rigid with fury, his feet jetting straight out. His hands curled into fists. As I sat down, I loosened my gown and maneuvered him toward my breast. He immediately latched on and began feeding. He hadn’t the best angle, but I didn’t dare interrupt him.
“Like most men,” Monica voiced. “Totally impatient when it comes to food.”
“If he’s anything like his dad,” I agreed. Carter could put some serious calories down. And he had no preference of food. Sweet, salty, it didn’t matter. He was like a goat. He’d make a meal out of a tin can.
“He looks like him.”
I smiled in agreement. “He has his nose.” It was slender, and perked up at the end. I think he inherited it from his mother’s side, from what I’d heard Jess say once.
“His chin, too. It’s not quite a cleft.”
“He hates that cleft. Though, it’s barely noticeable.”
“But it’s so sexy!” Monica gushed, and quickly backtracked. “Not that I stared at it any length. In person. This decade. This was back when I was seventeen-ish, and single.”
“I’ve stared longer. I have it memorized.” I think I naturally gravitated toward Carter over the others because he was the only one that was nice to me. I used to think it was because he liked me, but now that I was older, I realized that it was likely because he was the only one with a sister. He was seasoned on interacting with girls. It had nothing to do with me.
“Well, I’ll let you have some privacy. When you’re ready to go back to your room, I’ll wheel you back. Jacqueline had to get back to her floor.”
“Thank you,” for both the hospitality and the privacy. I think it was the first time I’d been alone and uninterrupted for any length of time. It would be wonderful to have five minutes to gather my thoughts and try to make sense of the mess my life had become.
As I traced the curve of Iain’s head, I knew one thing. I was still madly in love with his father. But then that was never in question. Gram was right, as always. I was letting pride and guilt rule my decisions. I wasn’t allowing myself to see things clearly. I needed to take a step back and look at things in a different light. Start over.
Maybe I needed to provide Carter the same opportunity I gave Haris. It was only fair. God knows, judging him for sleeping with those girls was hypocritical. I had Haris, after all. I hadn’t slept with him, but I was contemplating a commitment with him. A relationship. Possibly marriage. How did that look through Carter’s eyes, taking his kid and running off with another man? Not to mention I hadn’t given him a chance to explain himself.
This was all assuming that Carter really wanted me. He hadn’t visited in days. Maybe he’d finally taken the hint and fucked off. I wouldn’t blame him. I’d played too many games.
Maybe I was right from the beginning. He was acting out of a sense of responsibility. Maybe he’d only ever wanted to be part of Iain’s life. As Iain released my breast, his mouth slack in repose, I feared I might never know. Maybe he said fuck it all and went back to Pennsylvania with his sister Jess. The rest of the band hadn’t seen him or his family since the day we argued. Maybe he’d tucked tail and ran again.
“You should rest.”
Glancing up, I found Monica heading in my direction. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“You were in lala land.” Sliding her hands under Iain, she lifted him from my arms and placed him in the bassinet. “You need to learn to cat nap when he sleeps, that way you’re in time with his feedings.”
“Easier said than done when I’m roomed halfway across the hospital. By the t-time I get back t-to my room, I’m wide awake.” In truth, I was at the farthest end of the hospital. The latter was accurate.
“Maybe we can find you something closer to the nursery. Come on. I’ll wheel you back.”
“Can’t I just stay here?” The glider wasn’t bad. It was decently comfortable. Nobody bothered you in the nursery at this time in the morning.
“I know a better place.” She beckoned me, giving the wheelchair a pat. “Come on. I’ll do the driving.”
Reluctantly, I rose from the glider and climbed into the wheelchair. Monica leaned her hip into the handles and began pushing me down the hall. “So, what’s it like to hang out with…the um…the guys…the band?”
“Like having f-f-four big brothers, and you’re the f-f-fifth wheel.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah.”
We walked for a stretch of silence, leaving me to my thoughts.
“Maybe it’s different now. They all have girlfriends, you know. The vehicle no longer calls for four wheels, but eight.”
“Maybe.”
“Only one way to find out.” Making a sharp left turn, Monica steered me into room one thirty-six. We were in the wrong room, in the wrong hall, and on wrong floor completely. I was just about to tell her so when I noticed the patient in the bed. The room was dim, but I’d know him anywhere. I was acutely aware of his presence. Carter. The devil himself.
Fuck me.
Upon our entrance, he lifted his head. “Angel?”
My lips crimped. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that. This is my room.”
“You’re a patient?”
“You’d think the last place you’d get an infection was in a hospital.”
Until then, the IV had escaped my notice. His legs were under the blanket, but I remembered that his prosthetic had been bothering him. “Your leg.”
“It abscessed.”
“You should’ve stayed off it.”
“When have I ever been one to take advice?”
“T-t-true.” Rising from the wheelchair, I ambled to the edge of the bed. “How bad is it?”
“I won’t be walking on it for a few weeks.” Lifting his hand, he glared at the IV with loathing. “They’re pumping me full of antibiotics.”
“You don’t like needles.”
“No, just afraid it’ll dilute my charming personality.”
Despite my concern, my lips twitched upward. “You don’t have t-t-to worry about that. I think that bug up your ass is safe.”
“Smart mouth.” Scooting to the side, he made room beside him on the bed. “Take a load off. You look exhausted.”
“I am.” Hesitantly, I slid into bed beside him, and rested my head along the hollow of his shoulder.
“Baby keeping you up?”
“No. Couldn’t sleep.” It was a lie by omission, but I didn’t want to worry him. He’d raise a stink just like the nurses and doctors. “I’m sorry about the other day.”
“So am I. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”
“Nothing’s changed—”
“I didn’t sleep with those girls, Matilda.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Nothing’s changed the way I f-f-feel about you, Carter. I love you. Label me a f-f-fool. I don’t care.”
“You don’t care if I slept with them.” His tone was full of doubt. Understandably. I’d blown my cool the last time the subject came up. I’d ostracized him. Why should he believe me now?
“I made my share of mistakes. Who am I t-t-to judge?”
“I slept in the tub,” he insisted.
“You did not.”
“I swear on my mother’s grave.”
Fighting a smile, I rolled to my side, staring up at him. “Why am I the f-first one to hear about this?” It would’ve prevented a lot of heartache if he would’ve admitted as much to his friends earlier.
“Because I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks,” Carter exclaimed. “When have you known me to give a damn?”
“F-For real. Why?” I knew he was lying, as far as caring was concerned. I was proof of that. If he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, especially Jake, he wouldn’t have pushed me away.
“I was pissed off.” Turning his head away, he stared up at the ceiling, and scrubbed his jaw with his fingertips. “I wanted something real, something solid, long before any of those idiots. Tate and Shane didn’t think a serious relationship was possible, their parents being divorced and all. Jake didn’t think he’d find anyone right for him—”
“I didn’t realize my brother was so p-picky.”
Carter snorted. “Angel, you’ve got a lot to learn about your brother, but he’s the last person I want to discuss right now.”
“Understandable,” I agreed. “So…” I motioned for him to continue.
“I was pissed off. I finally found someone who got me, and she was completely untouchable! What kind of bullshit is that?”
I ignored the part where he found me. I had in fact found him, but that was beside the point. Waiting for further explanation, I stared silently. I wanted to hear him say it.
“I picked up the first thing I saw. They were young and blonde. Jake couldn’t say a word about it. No one could.”
Still, I said nothing. He’d picked them up because he could, and no one could say anything. I was barely a quantity in the equation. I didn’t know if that made it better or worse.
Turning his head, Carter blinked. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”
“Would it have been so much worse t-t-to say f-f-fuck the band?” I inquired. Not that I wanted to break up the band. It was the last thing I wanted to do.
Staring, his mouth twisted downward. “Where did you hear that?”
“I didn’t need t-to hear it,” I lied. “It’s common knowledge. Jake was never subtle with his opinions, or what he thought I should wear, or how I should act around you all.”
“I could give a shit about the band, and I could care even less about what Jake thinks.”
“That’s why you let him goad you into taking those girls back to your room.”
“I didn’t sleep with them.”
“Right—you slept in the t-tub.”
“Behind a locked door,” Carter added. “After I got them trashed enough to pass out.”
I huffed, my mouth popping open, aghast.
“It was the only way to keep them off me!”
“You’re not building my confidence here!” My lips pinched to a white line, I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling.
“I couldn’t do it! Ok? I couldn’t do it! I was so fucking close! I’m not going to lie to you, Angel! They were fucking hot!” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head. “And so fucking entirely stupid. Not an ounce of brains between them. Don’t get me wrong—that would never have stopped me before, but—”
“That was before me, right?” I snorted. “Please don’t debase yourself with being so cliché. You’re sharper than that.”
“Whatever. It’s true.” Still shaking his head, he closed his eyes. The first indication of obvious discomfort. “You’ve thrown me for a loop. For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss over what I’m supposed to do.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“What kinda question is that?”
“I don’t want you t-to feel obligated, Carter. I’d rather live amicably as f-friends than t-together f-for the wrong reason.”
“See what I mean? You’re smart. Too smart for your own good.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“You’re doing it right now—overthinking things. Your biggest asset becomes a fault.”
“Are you sure you’re t-talking about me?”
Taking a deep breath, he sighed. “I’m not in it just for the baby. Jesus, I’m not asking for blind trust. Just a chance. I’m not in a rush here. I need to wrap my mind around all of this myself. You’ve been Jake’s little sister to me forever. Despite everything that’s happened between us, I can’t rebuild my way of thinking in a day.”
My frown deepened. He loved me like a little sister.
“There you go again,” he chided. “I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to you. I’m not blind or obtuse, Angel. It’s more like I get this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame every time I look at or touch you. Christ, I feel like I’ve defiled the Virgin Mary.”
Lifting his arm, he rolled me back against his chest. I returned my head to the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone.”
“It’s just as much my fault. I should’ve driven down to see you,” Carter dismissed. “But I needed time to think, and I figured you needed space, too. I thought I’d see you at Christmas when you came home.”
But I hadn’t come home. It was then that Haris proposed his plan to play the father of my child in order to keep my secret. I hadn’t fully agreed, but I hadn’t declined either. He just assumed the lead, taking advantage of my indecision to ease his way into my life. The rest was history.
“When I overheard Jake telling Tate that you met someone, and that it was serious, I assumed you’d moved on. Serves me right. I fucked up. Bad.”
“Haris was a friend. A really good friend.”
Carter snorted in contempt.
“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. You can afford me the same measure.”
“It’s different. I saw you kissing him.”
He had that much on me. He’d seen me with his own eyes. I had kissed Haris. It wasn’t the other way around. “What were you doing in my yard at three in the morning, anyhow?”
“Coming to see you.”
“At three in the morning…?”
“Well, I sat outside debating for a few hours. I was going to climb in through the window in Jake’s room.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I thought we already ascertained that.”
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”
“I’ve done it a million times when we were kids. My leg never stopped me before. It’s only about a ten-foot fall.”
“No, it’s about a three-foot f-fall f-from your ass t-to the ground. Haris was using Jake’s room. He would’ve beat the living crap out of you. He was a boxer, you know.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“How did you get away?”
“I know your neighborhood like the back of my hand.” He shrugged, blithely. “I ducked behind the rose bushes.”
“You hid?” I almost laughed, but Carter’s next words stopped me short, and left the bitter taste of shame lingering in my mouth.
“One, I think I was still in shock. I wasn’t expecting to find you pregnant. I never thought you’d lie to me about something like that. Two, I didn’t know you were bringing Raging Bull home with you. I wasn’t really in the frame of mind to fight anyone.”
Our bickering came to a halt. I could see the hurt in his eyes. I wasn’t the only one affected by that morning in the airport. My actions had far reaching consequences. Haris was dead. I’d almost lost the baby. And all over misplaced pride. Now, it all seemed so petty.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. I get why you lied. I hate it, but I get it.”
Lifting my hand, I rubbed the sting of regret from my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. I had nothing left in me. I was exhausted, utterly exhausted. I had never felt so mentally weary.
Grasping my arm, Carter beckoned me toward him. “Lie down and get some sleep, Angel. It’s the ass crack of dawn and the kid’s going to be hungry again soon. We can talk later.”
Sliding back into his arms, I draped my leg over his thigh, careful of his bandaged stump. “He eats like you,” I yawned. For once, I was thankful for my fatigue. It dampened the yearning touching him engendered.
“He’s not a complete Whalen, then. I was beginning to wonder if he had any Strickland in him at all.”
“Oh, he’s got your lungs too.”
“He cried? Like, out loud?” I could understand his surprise. Until tonight, Iain had only made faint grunts, while kicking his legs to show his displeasure.
“Yeah, and I can quiet him the same way I quiet you.”
“Really?” Carter said, his tone wry. I wasn’t hard to read. My chest was already shaking with laughter. “And how’s that?”
“I shove my boob in his mouth.”