35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jane
T hree weeks after Meg gave birth, Bob and I were sitting in my TV room scrolling through all the pictures of Zachary that Mike had shared with the grandparents via Google photos.
“Look at this, it’s a video of him yawning,” said Bob, completely rapt, Maya curled up on his lap and snoring.
“Oh, that’s too precious.” I marveled at how tiny Zachary was in comparison to his father who was holding him—how my grandson had been no bigger than Meg’s three-and-a-half-pound Chihuahua.
To everyone’s joy, the baby was exceeding all his benchmarks. They had sent his cord blood to the genetics lab and Mike called with the news that Zacary tested negative for vEDS. Thank God!
Meg had some issues with expelling her placenta, but that had been taken care of. Now that she had been discharged, she was still staying at the hospital to take care of Zach.
“When will he be able to come home?” Bob asked. “I want to give the little guy cuddles.”
“I’ll be first in line.” I hated that the hospital regulations had become so strict that grandparents weren’t allowed in, but I understood it, too. Premature babies were so incredibly fragile. “Meg said the doctors won’t let him go home until he can eat on his own.” I pointed to the feeding tube taped to his cheek. “And they’re not even allowing her to breast feed him yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because at his age, he hasn’t developed the ability to suckle. They’re tube-feeding him with her breast milk. Meg says he will be able to go home at the end of July at the earliest but a lot of preemie babies born at twenty-eight weeks aren’t released until their due date.”
Bob cocked his head. “August twenty-third?”
“Yes, it could be that long. ”
“Those poor kids.”
“I don’t know about that.” I swiped through the pictures, smiling at the multitude of images of Zachary sound asleep. “Three weeks ago the unthinkable could have happened and now I have a daughter and a grandson. In my book, a few miserable months taking care of a preemie in the NICU is little price to pay.”
Bob scratched Maya behind the ears. “At least you got off easy—taking care of Meg’s princess.”
“I’ve offered to spend a few days at the hospital to let her go home and get some sleep, but she won’t leave Zachary’s side.” Mike was still spending as much time as he could at the hospital, but they’d both agreed for him to delay his paternity leave until the baby came home.
“Good for her.” Bob kissed my cheek. “You know, we make a pretty good team you and I.”
“We sure do.”
He twirled some of my fly-aways around his finger. “Well, I was thinking…”
“Hmm?”
“Why don’t we get hitched?”
Good Lord, of all the things Bob might have said, the idea of marriage hadn’t even made a blip on my radar. I laughed out loud, then covered my mouth when I caught a glance of the hurt filling Bob’s eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just I’ve been single so long, the thought of getting married again has never occurred to me.”
“No? Well, I hadn’t really thought much about it either until I met you.” Bob set Maya down and turned toward me, hitching up one knee on the couch. “Don’t you think it would be nice to live under one roof, especially since the new exterior paint is nearly as picturesque as your garden? We have dinner together almost every night, lunch, too. Why not add breakfasts?”
I sat stunned for a moment. We did have a number of breakfasts together because of all the sleepovers we’d been having. But that’s not what he meant. I liked him a lot. He was smart and funny and loyal. He was helpful, and thoughtful, and… wonderful .
Maybe I loved him.
And if I really thought about it, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Not now.
Goodness, I do love him .
“Breakfasts?” I asked, my fingers brushing his hair.
He nuzzled into my neck and nibbled my ear. “Yes, well, it’s all your fault because you introduced me to lattes.”
I chuckled, warmth spreading through me like sunshine. “I knew it was the lattes. It’s always the lattes.”
Bob took both of my hands between his powerful palms. “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but I want you to think about it.”
My breath hitched as I stared into those beautiful green eyes—green like a forest or a meadow—the color of luck, of hope, of stability. But could I burden him with FMD and vEDS? How could I expect anyone to want to be with me knowing of the aneurysms inside me like ticking time bombs, waiting for the opportunity to rupture?
I gulped. We couldn’t sidestep the inevitable. “You know I’m damaged.”
Bob’s forehead creased. “What?”
I pulled out the comb from my little bun and showed him my scalp. “For starters, I’m losing my hair.”
He rubbed his bald head. “If you haven’t noticed, mine has already disappeared.”
“Yes, but that’s different.”
“How so?”
“I’m a woman. Women aren’t supposed to lose their hair. It’s humiliating.”
He tucked a lock behind my ear. “I can hardly notice, and honestly, I think you’re too beautiful to let a little bit of thinning hair bother you.”
“Thank you,” I said, though it was hard to believe my scalp didn’t repulse him as much as it did me.
“Hey.” Bob kissed my cheek. “If it embarrasses you, why not get a wig—not for every day, but when you want to go out?”
“A wig?” I asked, not convinced.
“Sure. I know a hairdresser who can help.”
“Who don’t you know in this town? Every decent contractor that’s come to this house has been recommended by you.”
“It started with years of wearing the white coat and chatting with patients. I made a lot of connections then. Now, too, I guess.” Bob took my hand and brushed his lips over my knuckles. “So, now that we have that cleared up, what do you say? ”
Sighing, I ran my fingers down my neck. “I’ve already had a dissected carotid artery that nearly killed me. Are you sure you want to get involved with someone with health issues?”
“Involved—we’re already majorly involved. I want to marry you, Jane. We all have things. I have high cholesterol and my father died from a heart attack when he was only fifty-seven. Don’t think you are the only one who has drawn a short stick. You said yourself your gene mutation is the best of two baddies. I looked it up. A lot of people with your mutation only ever find out about it if they have an event like a dissection. You could live till you’re a hundred whereas I might die tomorrow.”
I stared at him, completely at a loss for argument. “You are amazing.”
“No, you are—you’re smart, and caring, and you have the cutest ass I’ve ever seen. Besides, you take fabulous care of yourself.”
I didn’t need to think about it any further. At long last, I had met my soulmate and I wanted to share whatever time I had left with him, be it two years or thirty. “Tell you what. Let’s be trendy and move in together. Who needs a ceremony? Let’s just be us. Do what we want.”
Bob waggled his eyebrows. “Whenever we want?”
I kissed his cheek. “Absolutely.”
He kissed my lips. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“Know what?” I asked after a deliciously long kiss.
Bob rested his forehead against mine. “Hmm?”
“I love you.”