Chapter 15
“Going to the clinic today?”
Beau looked up from the report he was perusing to see his father standing just inside the doorway of his office.
“No. I called, and Georgie is doing just fine. Her vital signs are stable, and the babies are coming along.”
Blake watched as his son went back to the document in front of him.
“You haven’t been there in a week.”
“That’s not completely true," he murmured easily, without taking his eyes off the page. “I stopped by two days ago.”
“You spent an hour and told Georgie that you had a function to attend. Her sisters, nieces and nephews as well as her friends have been by and have spent time with her, except you, the person she really wants with her.”
Putting aside the report, Beau reluctantly gave his father his full attention.
“Has she been complaining?”
“Not complaining, she knows you have work to do and feels guilty that when she was going through that period, you were there for the duration.” Blake came inside and closed the doors with a decisive snap. “She just mentioned that you are no longer staying overnight.”
“My wife understands or should understand that I have obligations.”
Blake did his best to tamp down his annoyance. He had seen his son’s reaction when his wife was ill, and he thought he was going to lose her. And had a very good idea what was bothering him. Beau was trying to distance himself from what he perceives as being the problem in case something like that happens again.
And in doing so, he was hurting both him and Georgie. He did not decline any invitation and was out and about town as if he did not have a wife on bed rest. One who needed him. It broke his heart each time he went to the clinic and saw the hopeless look on his daughter-in-law’s face when she realized Beau was not coming.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He watched as the annoyance flitted over his son’s face before he rearranged it into a neutral expression.
“I am working or that was the plan before your impromptu visit. And I need to get back to–”
“She is pining over you.”
Beau forced his fingers to remain unclenched. “That’s ridiculous. I keep in touch.”
“Keep in touch!” Blake roared. “She wants her husband. You are right here, not out of the country and she wants to see you, wants to be with you at a time like this.”
“Why?” he asked tautly. “It’s not as if I can do anything for her. What she needs is constant round-the-clock care and the medical personnel at the clinic happens to be providing that care. She is in good hands.”
“I understand why you think you have to stay away.”
“Is that so?” Beau picked up the paperweight and put it back down as if it were a reminder of things or someone he wanted to forget. “I seriously doubt that.”
“Son–”
“No." He shook his head firmly. “I am doing the best I can. I am in dialogue with Lucien every single day and he keeps me informed. I talk to Georgie twice a day and make sure she is supplied with everything she needs. I am doing my part.”
“And that part includes staying away from her.”“Yes," he bit out tersely. “She certainly does not need me there to hold her hand. She wanted this—wanted to have multiples and she has gotten her wish.”
Blake stared at him in sudden enlightenment. “My God. You blame her for everything that’s happened.”
“That would be foolish, wouldn’t it?”
“But it’s what you feel, isn’t it?”
“I have to get this report finished before I leave.” He brought the thick folder toward him, hoping his father would take the hint.
“You are hurting her, you know. And I thought you had moved past being that person.” Beau’s green eyes flashed fire. “I don’t need a lecture.”
“Well, too bad you are getting one. If you had not agreed to her going the IVF way, you should have been man enough to say so. Now you are–”
“I did say it!” he shouted, shoving away from his desk. “I begged her to let us go the normal route, to wait until a few years down the road before we start to think about having children. Did she listen? No." He shook his head.
“She had to have her own way and twice, I almost lost him. Even now, she is not out of the woods.” His anger spent, he sat back down, a calmness settling over his face as he opened the folder. “Please close the doors on your way out.”
Blake rose slowly and stared at his son’s bent head. He was shaken by the explosive words and had no idea that Beau harbored so much anger. But he should have realized that something was wrong.
After the last episode, he had not been himself. After making certain Georgie was over the worst, he left the clinic and went home, just barely stopping by the room to tell her goodbye. And he had been back only once.
He also knew that nothing he said now was not going to make a difference. He hated to see the couple like this. Georgie was suffering from the lack of his presence and pretending she understood, and Beau was so angry, he was not thinking.
But more than that, he was afraid, and he thought that distancing himself from his wife was going to make him feel less about her. How wrong he was.
Giving him one last worried look, he quietly left the office and closed the doors behind him.
The words ran together and after a few minutes of not retaining any damn thing, he pushed the document away from him and marched over to the cabinet to pour himself a drink.
He was delaying, that’s what it boils down to. He did not want to go home. It did not feel the same anymore.
She was not there, and the place felt empty and lonely. He tried his best to get home just in time to go to bed, but sleep eluded him, unless he drank. Staring at the amber liquid in his glass, he dimly acknowledged that he was on his way to becoming an alcoholic.
But what is the alternative? he asked himself bitterly. How could he cope with what was happening inside him?
He had just taken the drink back with him to his desk when he saw the handles of the doors turning. Annoyance colored his expression as he wondered if his dad had returned to further torture him.
But it was not Blake who stepped through the doorway. With a swirl of rust colored light summer jacket, Miriam approached with a dazzling smile and an invitation in her eyes.
His hand froze in the process of taking a sip.
“Miriam. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood.” Pink-painted lips parted as she read the skepticism on his face. “I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I was having an early dinner with a friend at Chloe’s.”
“And you decided to drop by.” He watched as she came forward and draped herself over his desk, one elegantly shod leg swinging. Her perfume was delicate and subtle, and he could see the enticing slice of flesh exposed by the low cut of her blouse.
“I took the chance and when I asked the guard downstairs if you were still here, he said yes.” Leaning forward, she took the full glass from him and took a delicate sip. “He knows me and was quite dazzled by my celebrity status.”
“Remind me to have a conversation with him about letting people in without asking. Again, what are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. Darling, you are not returning my calls.”
“I have been busy.” He took the drink from her and put it down. “My wife is not well.”
She made a move of her lips and pretended to be sympathetic.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Doesn’t what bother me?”
“Her being that way. Isn’t this her second time in the clinic? She is causing you a lot of trouble because she wanted to do this her way.”
His eyes glinted dangerously. “We are not discussing my wife.”
“Of course not.” She fluttered one elegant hand. “I am just so worried about you.”
“Why?”
Her tapered brows lifted. “In case you are not aware, darling I still care.” She started to reach out a hand toward him, but dropped it when he reared back. “I want to be there for you.”
“And how exactly do you want to do that?” he asked mildly.
“You need someone to talk to. You are here in your office at this hour and it’s not like you. And you’re drinking.” She looked pointedly at the glass. “It sounds as if you are having second thoughts about everything. We could have been happy together.”
“Until you left, and for your information, I happen to adore my wife.”
“And yet, you are here, alone and drinking. It makes me wonder.” He was about to tell her what he thought of her motives, when the sound of intense banging on the door sounded.
“Mr. Beau!”
Responding to the frantic note in the man’s voice, he rushed from behind his desk and jerked the doors open.
“Sir!” The man was panting from exertion. “I have been trying the extension and you are not picking up.” his eyes swept over the woman who was uncoiling herself from the desk. “The clinic has been trying to reach you.”
His heart stopped and started up at an uneven pace.
“My wife–”
“They have not told me anything sir, just said you need to get there as soon as possible.”
For a second, he just stood there and could not move.
“Sir!”
The sharpness of the guard’s voice whipped him into frenzied activity and without even looking at Miriam, he grabbed his jacket, making sure he had his key fob and went hurtling through the doorway.
*****
“Why the hell were you not answering your phone?” His father charged him as soon as he rushed into the waiting room.
“Never mind that," he was breathless with exertion and worry. All he had been told was that his wife was in surgery. He had broken several traffic laws on his way here and wondered fleetingly if he was going to be pulled over for speeding. Not that would have stopped him one bit. “What’s going on?”
Blake gave him a hard stare before backing down. “One of the babies is sucking the life out of the other two and Georgie started having contractions.” His face was white with strain. “She is in grave danger and might just lose one of them. They are fighting to save mothers and babies.”
“But?”
Blake sank down into the nearest chair and clasped his hands between his thighs. “It doesn’t look good.”
Beau felt the air left his lungs and for a minute, he was frozen in place. He had wasted time not being here with her because of some petty issue. Because he had been selfish, thinking of his own feelings, of how he had never signed up for this.
“No," he whispered hoarsely. “I cannot accept that.”
“Sit-”
“No!” he cried hoarsely. “I cannot lose her. Oh God! I blamed her for putting us through this and I was punishing her. Now-” He groped for the chair and sank down weakly, his legs unable to hold him up.
“I cannot lose her. I have to tell her how sorry I am.” He passed trembling fingers through his hair. “I have to tell her how much I love her. Dad–” Words failed him. “I cannot lose her.”
“Hopefully, we won’t,” Blake said gruffly, alarmed at the look of hopelessness on his face. “I am praying we don’t.”
*****
It took several hours before they were able to hear anything. Beau let his father deal with the many phone calls from her sisters and friends as he could not bear to speak to anyone.
He had also ignored calls from Miriam, turning off his phone when she persisted. To think he had been with her in his office while his wife was in extreme difficulties. His demons were chasing him and guilt as thick as syrup curdled his insides.
He had left her alone, had shirked his responsibilities as husband and father to those babies. He could never forgive himself for that.
And if he lost her – he did not allow the idea to take form inside his head, because losing her was not an option. Losing her would be like losing himself, he wanted her back. Would do anything to touch her, see her spitting fire from her expressive eyes. Hear her laugh at his jokes and speak to him in that sultry voice of hers.
Have her touch him, in her own inimitable way. He wanted all of that. And he was praying it wasn’t too late."
He had gone to the chapel again to rage and beg God to give him another chance. Then he went back to demand answers, only to hear that she was still in surgery and the doctors will give him an update soon.
He felt as if he was climbing out of his skin.
“It’s been too long," he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head when his father handed him a cup of coffee. He could not get anything past the lump in his throat. “What the hell is taking so long?”
“I don’t–” They both swiveled around when the door was pushed open. Lucien was alone and the look on his face had Beau’s fear blossoming inside his chest. “No! No! No! Don’t you come in here and tell me–”
He stopped when the doctor held up his hand. “She made it.” Lucien felt as if he had been through the wringer. “The babies were delivered. Both boys are doing well, but the girl is tiny and is in the NICU.” He smiled thinly. “She is a fighter like her mother.”
“My wife, Georgie, is alive?” Beau lowered himself into the chair as his legs gave out.
“She is. Tired and spent, but alive and asking for you.”
“She wants to see me?”
“Yes.” Lucien smiled. “She does.
“Beau turned to his father. “Dad?”
“Go ahead son, I will see her later. I think I am going to take a look at my grandchildren.” A broad smile was on his lips. “Go and see your wife.”
*****
Georgie felt as if she was coming out of a long and deep coma. She had heard the good news and the not so good news about her daughter, but she was not going to worry about that. The little girl had fought her way into the world, and she had faith enough to believe she was going to fight to stay.
Her eyelids lifted when the door was pushed open, and she felt her heart slamming inside her chest as she beheld the man standing framed inside the doorway. He was a sight for sore eyes and the resentment that had been fueled by his absence melted away at the look of contrition and happiness on his handsome face.
“I don’t deserve to be in this room.”
“Is that so?
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his tan slacks, he rocked back on his heels. He had detoured and made a stop in the nursery to get a peek at his sons. They had been tagged with the names she had chosen. His little girl, with her creamy complexion and sparse dark brown hair, had held his attention longer.
She was so tiny, looked so helpless, that he wanted to gather her into his arms and shield her from everything that would hurt her. He wanted to rip the tubes stringing from her tiny body. And she was so tiny that he feared that she was going to break.
“I failed you, failed those children we created.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug and looked helplessly at her. “I avoided you–”
“Beau–”
“No.” He shook his head. “Let me finish,” His throat was thick, his body trembling. She was his lifeline and lying propped up on the pillows was the most beautiful woman in the world to him and he almost lost her. He had a lot to make up for.
“I was selfish and I–” he closed his eyes briefly, then continued, “I adore you; you must believe that there can be no one else but you. But I wasn’t here and I-”
“Are you here now?”
Opening his eyes, he stared at the serene face and felt love overpowering love, flowing through his body.
“Always,” he vowed.
“Then I would very much like to have my husband right next to me.”
He made it to her bed in record time, dropping to his knees and reaching for her hand.
“Forgive me.”
“Already done. Unless you have done something unforgivable like sleeping with another woman.”
“Never," he whispered and wondered if he should confess about seeing Miriam. “There is something I need to tell you.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“What is that?”
“She came to see me at the office, just before I received the call—I had my phone on vibrate and– and the intercom was off.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know they were trying to get in touch with me–” He stared at her pleadingly. “I swear to you, that I was not even tempted. I only want you- please believe that it’s just you.”
His hand was tight on hers, his fingers interlocking hers as if he wanted to infuse the truth of what he was saying to her. He wanted to brand it inside her heart.
“I believe you.”
He bowed his head over their clasped hands and breathed a sigh of relief before lifting his eyes to her face. “I thought I was losing you," he admitted hoarsely. “And I panicked. If I had lost you, I would not want to live. You are my life. Baby, you are my everything and our children, they are part of the package.”
“Have you seen them?” she asked softly.
He nodded, expression luminous. “I took a detour when I was on my way here. Our daughter–”
He stopped when she placed a finger over his lips. “We are not going to say anything negative about Bri. She is going to be fine.”
“Bri?”
“Short for Brianna.” Her eyes grew bright with tears. “She has to.”
“She will," he vowed.
*****
They held hands as they stood there looking at their tiny daughter. Georgie had welcomed the wheelchair, because of the soreness of her stomach. She had complained to her husband that she was going to be scarred and he would find her unattractive.
“Not if you cover up the scar," he teased.
“I am serious.”
“I love you, scars and all," he assured her.
Now they were here staring at the tiny creature.
“She looks like she is hurting,” Georgie fretted.
“Is she?” She looked at the nurse who was tending to one of the boys.
“No.” The nurse smiled at them. “Far from it.”
“Are you sure?” This was from the worried father. “All these tubes–”
“Are designed to help her with her breathing. Her lungs are underdeveloped. But she is getting better.”
“She doesn’t look it." His fingers tightened on his.
“Positive thoughts, remember?” Lifting their hands, he kissed hers.
“Yes.” She tried to sound that way, but it came out sounding helpless. “Of course.” She turned to look at her husband. “Of course. She is a fighter. It’s just that she looks so tiny and in pain. But she’s not. She is on the mend. And I am scared, I am so scared. What if she–”
“No. No, I am not going there.” Using her free hand, she touched the cool plastic that housed her baby girl. “Hey Bri, your mama and daddy are right here, and we are rooting for you. Your brothers are also waiting to see you.
There is this nursery that’s all your own. It’s pink and lilac and your daddy does not like the colors, but you will. He wanted cool blues and greens, but we girls rule, and we rock and we have the ability to wrap the men in our lives around our little fingers.”
“True,” her husband agreed and she laughed.
“There. You are missing out a lot and we really want you to join the party. We want to take you home. We really do.”
They stayed there for a few more minutes before heading back to her room.
“You will stay, won’t you?” she asked him huskily when she was settled in bed.
“I am not going anywhere," he promised and slid in next to her.