4. Landry
CHAPTER 4
landry
I don’t make it back to the house until after ten that evening, and I only leave the hospital once my older sister Lilley tells me I’ve overstayed my welcome. Loren and the twins are all stable, even though she’ll need a few days to recover from the surgery and the babies will be spending some time in the NICU.
I sigh and run my fingers through my hair after I pull into the driveway and park beside Daisy’s green Volkswagen Beetle. I guess I was so distracted with unpacking that I missed it this morning.
This morning seems like a lifetime ago. And the problems that seemed so big earlier today feel so petty now.
My eyes sting as I let the events of the last few hours sink in, and my hand flies to my chest as it heaves against my will. It still feels like I’m due to wake up from a horrible dream any second now. Loren was so close to losing her babies, and we were so close to losing her. My sister and I might have our differences, but she’s still one of the most important people in my world. And the worst part about all of this is that I have no control over the situation. I’m a doctor, yet I couldn’t stop it from happening. Hell, having a maternal-fetal specialist on speed dial couldn’t even help this time. And it gets even harder to breathe as I recall the way I tried so hard to prevent all of this in the first place.
Aside from the irony of Loren getting pregnant with a guy like Blake, what are the chances that she’d conceive twins and develop a condition like placenta previa? And after months of begging both of them to take her health more seriously and getting repeatedly told to butt out, my worst fears were all playing out right in front of me. Thankfully, Tenley was around to diagnose Loren’s placental abruption and get Dr. Simms to perform an emergency C-section in time. Still, this could have all been avoided had they just listened to me.
I don’t know that I’ve ever felt more scared or angry in my life.
And that’s why I couldn’t stop myself from marching into the hospital waiting room and calling Blake Bourgeois a selfish bastard. The man was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands and his back against the wall, blood staining his arms and clothes. I knew he was gutted. I knew he’d have done anything to take her place or to go back in time and do things differently. He must have been at a loss as to who or what to hope for, that he was probably waiting for them to come out any second and tell him he’d lost one or both of his daughters or their mother. While I love my sister and have always made it my priority to keep her safe, I can’t claim the same level of devotion a father experiences with his children. I’d like to imagine that must be a different kind of love, something compulsive, involuntary, and biologically ingrained.
Then again, I’ve seen too many cases of child abuse and neglect to believe that’s true for all parents. And if Blake’s attachment is anything like what my father apparently felt for his wife and kids, then my loyalty to Loren is still unrivaled.
And now I’m letting myself get bogged down in all of the negatives again.
I try to shift my thoughts to something else, but I can’t get past the miserable look on Blake’s face when I gave in to the impulse to lash out at him. He kept his eyes down, silently nodding in agreement as another sob wracked his body. I pinned him with the blame, knowing he’d feel too guilty to defend himself, and he simply accepted it. It was his brother who cut a dangerous glare my way and ordered me to either keep my mouth shut or go home. At the time, I couldn’t believe JD had the audacity to threaten me—I mean, Loren is my sister, not his. He may be her friend now, but I’ve been taking care of her for years. I was the one consoling her each time our parents let her down, while the Bourgeois brothers were busy contributing to the problem by stealing our dad’s attention.
But now that I’m taking the time to process all this, I can’t help thinking JD was only trying to defend his sibling as fiercely as I was trying to protect my own. And it turns out that “I told you so” wasn’t as satisfying as my anger promised it would be, and it certainly hadn’t helped Loren or the babies.
In the end, I managed to keep the rest of my uglier remarks to myself in exchange for Blake’s consent to check on the babies in the NICU, and I at least got to look in on my sister in recovery. But my presence only served to make myself feel better, if I’m being honest.
“Shit, Landry,” I mutter to myself and pound my fist against the steering wheel. It takes a few more deliberate inhales and exhales, as well as a reminder that Loren and the twins are, in fact, going to be okay for me to shake the worst of those overwhelming feelings of dread.
I lift my head and glance up at the small shotgun house in front of me. It’s such a strange contradiction to my current mood: quaint, cheerful, cozy. There’s a fresh coat of mint green paint on the front door. The plethora of new plants scattered throughout the flower beds and the pots lining the porch must also be of Daisy’s doing, since I’ve never known Loren to have much of a green thumb. And Daisy would certainly know a thing or two about gardening.
She also seems to understand how to get along with everyone in Camellia better than I expected, given her negligible opportunities for socialization before now. Not to mention she’s only been here a short amount of time. While my last roommate shared the same last name and generically likable traits as Daisy, his people skills hadn’t really rubbed off on me. But Rowan isn’t as talkative or extraverted as his baby sister, so I guess there’s a chance I could benefit from observing her interactions.
Maybe I could learn a little something about focusing on the positives from my new roommate. That is, if her sunshine doesn’t give me a sunburn first.
I grab the rest of my bags and walk up to the door, hesitating with the key. Am I supposed to knock now? We might have formed an informal verbal roommate agreement, but Daisy had also made it clear she didn’t appreciate the way I’d surprised her this morning.
I swap my keys out for my phone, intending to text Rowan for Daisy’s contact, when I see a string of messages from an unknown number.
Unknown
Hey Landry, it’s Daisy. Hope you don’t mind that I got your number from my brother. I just wanted to see if there were any updates on Loren and the babies.
I’ll keep praying until I hear back from you.
Any news?
Hi. I hate to bother you rn but i ve started feelingg off and worried abt having an eppisode
landry im sry but im going to hav a seizur
The last message came through about twenty minutes ago. I curse under my breath before I drop my bags and scramble to get the key into the lock. I push my way into the house to find Daisy lying on her side on the couch, her long hair curtaining her face.
“Daisy? Are you okay?” I call out as I dart over to her, immediately brushing her hair aside to check her breathing and pulse.
She doesn’t respond, but she does seem to be okay, to my relief. Judging from her current position, she managed to avoid a fall and keep her airway clear, though I can’t tell the extent of her episode. And since I’ve never seen Daisy have an episode before, I don’t know what to expect.
I settle on the floor beside her as I continue my inspection. Her muscles still seem tensed, and I observe a few residual spasms in her legs. I spend the next few minutes softly stroking her hair and reminding her that I’m here, mostly because I don’t want her to panic when she regains consciousness to find a stranger in the house. Eventually she whimpers and cracks her eyes open slightly.
She takes a deep inhale when she recognizes me. “Hi,” she rasps. “Sorry about this.”
“No, I’m sorry,” I correct her and swallow down the lump of guilt lodged in my throat. “I should have checked my phone sooner.”
“How’s Lo?” she asks, slowly stretching her limbs.
“She’s doing well, considering.”
“The babies?”
I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s more concerned with them than herself.
“They’re good. Tiny but strong, like their mama.” I smile, even though it’s hard to get the words out. “They’ll be in the NICU for a while.”
“Thank God,” she whispers, relief washing over her face.
I realize I’m still running a hand over her hair, and I clear my throat as I put some space between us. She pushes herself up to a seated position, a string of rosary beads still clutched in her palm. It reminds me of the rosary I saw dangling from JD’s hands at the hospital earlier.
“Thank you for praying for them,” I say, surprising myself.
“Of course,” she replies, rising to a seated position. “I’m so glad they’re okay. How are you?”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “I’m more worried about you. Did you fall or hurt anything before you made it to the couch?”
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m fine. Just feeling a little groggy, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”
I frown. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”
“Water would be nice. Thanks.”
I nod and go into the kitchen, relieved to open a cabinet and find most of Loren’s old furnishings. I bring her a glass of water before I retrieve the backpack and duffel bag I’d left on the porch, which are now covered with bugs. Because we’re in Louisiana.
“You never answered me,” Daisy points out after a while.
“Because I’m not the patient,” I say as I return to the living room and sit beside her, our shoulders bumping. I make a mental note to get another chair, since we only have the one small sofa right now.
“But I imagine you’ve had a rough afternoon. How are you feeling about everything?”
“I’m fine,” I spit out automatically.
She takes a sip of water and eyes me skeptically. “Landry, it’s okay to admit you were scared. I was scared for you.”
“Is that why you had a seizure?” I ask quickly.
“I doubt it,” she replies. “More likely the stress of the move in general. And I don’t think this was a particularly bad episode, since I’m not feeling as terrible as I could right now.”
I nod. “That’s good.”
“Did you see it at all?” she ventures.
“Not really. I only made it back a few minutes before you woke up.”
She smiles ruefully. “Thank you for coming to take care of me. I’m sorry this happened within hours of you agreeing to move in, especially when you were busy with your family?—”
“Daisy, please stop apologizing for something you have no control over. If anything, I’m impressed by the way you alerted me when you felt it coming on. And I’m glad you were able to get to a safe position.”
“So I haven’t scared you off already?” she poses, batting her lashes over her big, green eyes.
I laugh shortly. “Takes a lot more than that to scare me off.”
“You mean you’d rather live with an epileptic than an optimistic extrovert?”
“You’re not an epileptic. You’re a person who just happens to have epilepsy,” I correct her.
She smirks at me and lifts her chin proudly. “I am.”
“And you also talk a lot ,” I add, smiling.
“Yeah, well, you cuss too much,” she retorts.
“Damn, you’re right.”
She nudges me, and I laugh again. But then her smile falters when her gaze lands on the pile of crates in the middle of the room. “I guess we should start unpacking. You’ll probably want the bigger bedroom.”
“I’m not kicking you out. I’ll be fine in the smaller room.”
She bites her lip. “There isn’t even a bed in there yet. I bought an air mattress in case Rowan or anyone else came to visit me, but that’s all I have for now.”
I groan inwardly. At my age, one night on an air mattress is enough to trigger at least a week’s worth of back pain. I could go to my dad’s place tonight, but it’s late. It’s been a long-ass day, and I can’t just leave Daisy here alone after that episode.
“I’ll take the air mattress tonight,” I tell her after giving the couch a good once over and deciding it’s too small. “I have a storage unit in Baton Rouge with a bed. Tomorrow I’ll borrow my dad’s truck and swap out some of this other stuff for the mattress, at least.”
She furrows her brow. “You’re not getting a very big mattress in there. Not if you want a dresser, anyway.”
“Okay then,” I say on a sigh. “Looks like I’m going shopping in the morning.”
“Oh, mind if I come along?” she asks cheerfully.
“Why the hell not?” I mutter, and she grins.
“Great. Let’s get you to bed, roomie.” She bounces up onto her feet and practically skips out of the room. I have a sinking feeling that things will never be the same after today, in more ways than one.