Chapter 20
Chapter
Twenty
Hunter
Twenty-four weeks pregnant
“ D r. Patricia Gibson. I’m the ship’s doctor. So. You decided you could ignore the line in the waiver about the pregnancy limit and cross your fingers nothing bad happened?” She pinches the skin on Michelle’s hand to watch how long it takes to fall back into place. “This looks like dehydration. Probably didn’t drink enough water when boarding yesterday. With the proneness toward nausea, the choppier surf today sealed your fate.”
She turns her eyes on both Michelle and me in turn. Michelle looks at me too. She didn’t call me on the waiver thing yesterday, but I know it’s my fuck-up to speak up for now. “This probably isn’t much better than disregarding it, but we . . . I didn’t see the clause. I signed for both of us. We only booked a few weeks ago. This is the only time we can get away. Things with work were so busy, and I forgot about the waivers and signed them without looking for anything about pregnancy. My assumption was along the flying timeline too. I’d ...” My voice catches, and Michelle grabs my hand and squeezes it once. It’s a reassurance I don’t deserve. “I’d never knowingly put her in danger. Please, is she going to be okay?” I look searchingly at Dr. Gibson and the PA. The doctor’s face morphs into something slightly more sympathetic. “We’re going to keep her in here until we anchor later this afternoon and keep an eye on her levels. If it’s simply dehydration, like I assume it is, she’s going to be just fine with rest and more fluids.”
The band around my chest loosens another notch. “Thank you.” The rest of what she said replays in my head. “Wait, anchor this afternoon? The first port isn’t until tomorrow morning, right?”
The sympathy leaves Dr. Gibson’s face and is replaced by something more stoic, like you would find on a general who has to give orders to her troops she disagrees with. “The cruise line’s policy is if you’re more than twenty-three weeks pregnant while on board, we have to remove you at the next viable port option. That’s Eleuthera. They have a small clinic and planes come in and out of the airport a few times a week. It’s been a while since I last looked at their schedule, but they usually have a small charter departing on Saturday afternoons. We might make it in time.”
Michelle’s mouth opens in shock. “You just . . . leave us there?”
“I am sorry, Ms. Lewis. It’s for your own safety.”
I want to rage there’s nothing safe about leaving a pregnant woman on an island without a guaranteed way off and a “small clinic.” The urge to upend the neatly organized medical supplies on the shelf along the wall across from me simmers underneath my skin. But I’ve already caused enough trouble. I won’t make this any worse for us.
“We understand,” I say. Michelle whips her head in my direction in shock.
Dr. Gibson presses a button. “Bill, do you want to help Mr. Brandt pack up their cabin? I’ll stay with Ms. Lewis. ”
“Yes, ma’am.” A porter steps through the doorway from who the fuck knows where. I stand up to follow him, dropping Michelle’s hand. I follow Bill out without looking back. The band around my chest is tighter than ever, threatening to cut off my oxygen. Only a handful of hours ago, I woke up, having everything I never knew I wanted in my arms. And now, I’ve risked them. For what? To play the romantic? The guy who woos the girl? That’s not my role.
Hours later, Michelle’s coloring is much better. I force myself to meet her eyes as they get us on a smaller boat to make our way to Eleuthera. All the sparkle, the shimmer that matched the stars we watched last night, has disappeared. I snuffed it out.
I instead watch the people standing on their balconies and against the railing, watching us leave them behind. Michelle leans into my side then, and I tuck her under my arm. Not because I deserve to be her shelter, but because no one should think she did anything to get us this treatment. It’s all on me.
The crew member who brought us over makes sure we flag down a rickshaw pulled by a bike before taking off. The driver straps our luggage in.
“Airport?” he asks. It seems like this isn’t the first time two people have arrived on his island off a large boat like this.
“Yes, please,” Michelle says. He starts pedaling and turns up a radio, the sound carrying on the wind as we move away from the shore.
“Hunter.” She touches my arm. “This isn’t your fault.”
Despite my best intentions, I’m not able to hold back my scoff. “How is this not my fault? First, I didn’t consider hurricane season when I booked, but luck and weather patterns bailed me out of that one. I didn’t tell you there was a waiver. I forged your signature. Fuck, I’m pretty sure you should sue me. Duncan can find you a lawyer.”
Saying Duncan’s name brings forward the thought I’ve been trying to bat away all afternoon. One call to Duncan will solve all this. But I’ll also have to admit to my oldest brother I fucked up and need him to save me. Again .
Michelle sits up straighter, prepared to argue with me. “I could have researched what I needed to know about going on a cruise pregnant. I mean, I did look things up, but not that part. What sunscreen can I wear? Pregnancy sea sickness prevention methods. Remember, it took two of us to board the boat. You’re not alone in this.” She repeats a variation on the words I said to her weeks ago, but they don’t penetrate the buzzing in my head.
A buzzing sound outside my head grows louder, and I watch as a plane takes off from behind the buildings in front of us and into the sky. It grows smaller and smaller as it gains height and distance.
“There must be a chance of weather between here and the mainland,” our driver calls over his shoulder. “Sometimes they run ahead of schedule if they have everything they know they’re waiting on. There’s another plane on Wednesday. I can take you to the airport to check on space and then get you somewhere to stay for a couple days.”
“Wednesday. Shit. There must be Wi-Fi here, right? If they have an airport? I’ll have to email Ray. We scheduled a meeting to talk about the schedule for our fall foliage predictions and coverage when I got back on Wednesday.”
And now I’m affecting her job? Another fault I can add to the list.
We pull up in front of a small airport. Michelle walks toward the door, but I grab the driver’s shoulder. “We, uh, might not need a place to stay the whole way until the next scheduled flight. Private planes can land here?” The driver nods. “Okay, I need to make a call, but hopefully we’ll be out of here tomorrow or the day after. Let me know how much I owe you too. I don’t have a ton of cash, but I can have money wired too.”
There’s something like sympathy in his gaze. “The cruise line provides for these types of situations. It’s handled. I’ll go make sure your woman is all right. You make your call. It’s all going to be all right, son.”
I nod, my throat tight. I don’t know how he can be so sure.
I pull out my phone and am thankful to see a single bar. Saves me from asking for a Wi-Fi password, or worse, asking to use someone else’s phone. I’d rather not be overheard.
“Brandt Investing International, Mr. Brandt’s office. How can I help you?”
I hate when he forwards his cell to his assistant. I clear my throat. “Uh, hi. This is Hunter. Is Duncan around?”
“Mr. Brandt has a very full schedule today.” I roll my eyes. It’s Saturday of a three-day weekend. Get a life, bro. “May I ask what this is in regard to?”
My patience snaps. “No, you may fucking not. Can you please put my brother on the phone?”
My outburst is met with silence before a shaky voice says. “One moment please,” and I’m met with staticky muzak. Fuck, I’m going to hear about that one.
“Hunter. Didn’t expect to hear from you, especially not from an assistant near tears. Making them cry is my job. What’s up?”
I can’t bring myself to say anything.
“Hunter, you there?” Duncan’s voice changes, dropping all the ritz that’s crept in over the years of his success. What’s left is my big brother. “Is everything okay?”
“You knew I’d fuck this up, didn’t you? That’s why you told me to call if I needed something?” My voice cracks, and I hear the tears in my words, matching the ones rolling down my cheeks.
“What? No.” It’s the first time in a long time I’ve heard him sound bewildered. “I say it to all of you whenever you leave the country, just in case. But I guess ...”
“I’ve never left the country before. Barely done fucking anything worth remembering before.”
“Hunter . . .”
“I can’t right now. We’re on Eleuthera. The cruise line has a policy against passengers being over twenty-three weeks pregnant onboard. Michelle got dehydrated and sick, so they found out she’s past their policy limit and dropped us off in the next viable place.” I rush through the words, hoping if I get them out quick, it won’t sound as awful. It doesn’t work.
“Fuck, they just drop you off? That doesn’t sound legal.”
“It is. It’s in the waiver I signed without reading.” It’s a sign Duncan knows how upset I am he doesn’t interject there. “The next plane isn’t until Wednesday. The doctor on the boat says she’s fine after some IVs, but after how sick she was this morning, I want Michelle off this island as soon as possible. Can you . . . can you help?”
“Parker.” I hear Duncan yell for his assistant instead of wasting time answering me. “I need you to get a private plane chartered to Eleuthera. One of our standard pilots, double their fee to dump any existing flights. Tonight, if they can, first thing tomorrow, if not.” I hear Parker agree in the affirmative, not that he has any choice, before Duncan directs his attention back to me.
“I’ve got you, Hunt. Do you want a nurse on the flight too to check Michelle? You know what? Fuck it. We’re doing it. I’m going to work on getting someone myself while Parker gets the flight. I’ll send you the information once we have it.”
I nod, forgetting he can’t see me. But he must sense my agreement.
“I’d do anything for you, Hunt. Please never forget that. Let’s fix it now, and talk it through later, okay? Love you.”
He’s gone before I can respond. “Thanks. Love you too,” I say to the empty line.
I stand in the warm sun, taking a few deep breaths. In other circumstances, I might find this place to be paradise. I’ll never know.
Wiping my face, I head inside to update Michelle and wait for someone else to save my ass. Again.