Chapter 30 Extra Miles
THIRTY
Extra Miles
St. David’s Hospital—About two years later
“It’s official.” I stretch my legs as far as they’ll go in an attempt to make a bed out of the most uncomfortable chair I’ve ever had the misery of sitting in. “This is the longest day of my life.”
Connor gives my leg an impatient pat and sighs. I can’t count how many times he’s sighed at me today. He stopped trying to reassure me with words hours ago.
“How long since we’ve had an update?” I ask.
“About an hour,” he says.
“It feels like it was yesterday.”
“Technically it was.”
I glance again at the clock on the wall. Midnight has managed to slip by without my notice. “Jesus.”
“You could always go home. I can text you when anything happens.”
The idea of that is just as bad as the idea of waiting another eight hours. It was stupid to think this kind of thing happened in ten minutes like it does in movies.
“Hey.”
I raise my head at the flat sound of West’s voice. I don’t bother to sit up.
He takes a seat next to me, rubbing his hands over his face. “Where’s Tristan?”
“He went to get his laptop to study. He’ll be back in a few minutes,” I tell him. “I think. I can’t really remember what time he left. How are you holding up?”
He yawns. “I’m bored out of my damn mind.”
“How’s Joey?”
“Asleep. Once she got the epidural, it was lights out. I would have come out then, but I crashed. Sorry, brother.”
“At least someone’s sleeping.”
“Wanna trade places?” he asks. “I can hang out here, you can sleep on the sofa bed in the room.”
“I’m sure Joey would love that. She wakes up and sees you sent in a pinch hitter.”
His laugh is silent because he probably doesn’t have the energy required to give it sound.
“Can I go sit with her?” Connor asks. “I won’t wake her up.”
“Sure,” West says then slaps my thigh. “Get up. Your turn to buy the coffee.”
It’s always my turn to buy the coffee.
“I have my phone,” he shouts after Connor as he leaves the waiting room. My brother raises a hand to acknowledge that he heard him. It would have been impossible not to.
Under protest, I get up and stretch to prepare for the walk to the hospital cafeteria. I text Tristan.
Caffeine run with W. C’s in J’s room.
Tristan
K
I grin.
“Nervous?” I ask West, rubbing his shoulders as we start our walk.
“Nervous isn’t the word, brother.”
We turn left down a long hall, the smell of coffee in the air. It’s a faint scent that gets stronger as we get closer.
“What’s the update?” I ask.
“Seven centimeters.”
“What’s the goal? Ten?”
“Ten,” he says.
“And then what? The baby comes out?” I ask, unashamed of my complete ignorance of the process.
“Evidently,” he says, his voice heavy with dread and impending doom.
Maybe I’m just tired, or suffering from waiting room psychosis, but the way he says it has me laughing my ass off. I almost can’t keep walking.
“This could still happen to you, you know? I get it won’t be Tristan you’re worried about, but maybe one day you’ll understand.”
“Tristan and I won’t have to be there, though.”
He chuckles. “Okay. We’ll see…”
West’s text tone goes off, and he stops in his tracks to dig his phone out of his pocket. My heart is beating as fast as his must be. “It’s Mom,” he says, relief moving like a ripple over his body. “The girls can’t sleep. They’re coming up.”
“They don’t have to go to school tomorrow, do they? They’ll be exhausted.”
“Nah,” he says. “I figure they’ll be here most of the day. You know. ‘Helping.’”
“I can take them after work,” I offer.
“I’ll let you know.”
I get a text next. It’s Tristan. He’s with Connor in Joey’s room.
He sends me a picture of the three of them with all their fingers held up, splayed open like jazz hands.
Joey is clearly not asleep anymore, though her hair is in a wild mess of a bun on top of her head.
She’s swollen and exhausted, but she’s grinning from ear to ear.
West gets the same photo on his phone. “Shit,” he says. “She’s at ten.”
I look at the photo again. The message could not be more obvious.
West’s next text as we’re booking it back to labor and delivery is from Connor.
Little Bro
Get your ass back here.
His text to me says Get West back here!
We pick up our pace. Fortunately, we haven’t gotten far.
Leaving me in the waiting room, West keeps going. A minute later, Tristan and Connor come in. “Did he make it?” I ask.
“Yeah. He’s good.” Tristan gets close to me. His hand on my arm slows my heart and keeps me from pacing. He runs his other hand through my messy hair, his thumb dragging lightly across my unshaven jawline. “You okay?”
“He’s a wreck,” Connor answers for me, going to sit back down.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m just…you know…nervous for West.”
“Come here.” Tristan’s arms enclose me, holding me tight.
I breathe in the scent of his hair, all sea and spring.
“All right, kids—final wagers. After this, all bets are closed.”
Helen’s words distract me. She’s dressed like she’s been dragged out of bed by force in pink sweatpants and a gray flannel shirt.
Kate, in her favorite unicorn pajamas, buzzes around her like she’s high on sugar.
Eliza is two feet behind them, sullen and tired dressed in jeans and a striped sweater like she’s on her way to school.
“Boy. I still say boy,” Connor says from his corner.
“I really really really really really want a baby brother!” Kate says as she hops up and down.
“Cut it out, Kate!” Eliza’s sharp reprimand cuts through Kate’s excitement.
Tristan pulls away from me but keeps an arm around my waist. Eliza sends a deliberate glare his way.
Tristan’s smile tightens and so does his arm around me.
It’s both possessive and also entreating.
Obeying his silent demand, I put my arm around him, too.
He and Eliza have not grown on each other.
Yet. I still feel like there’s a chance.
“It’s a girl,” Eliza states as though there’s never been a question of it.
“My money’s on boy,” Helen says, making herself comfortable in the chair next to my brother. “Archer?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh, come on.” Tristan taps my stomach with his free hand. “The world won’t come to an end if you guess wrong.”
“You have no way of knowing that.”
“Girl,” Tristan says, agreeing with Eliza for once.
The eleven-year old makes a noise of annoyance and sits down on the opposite side of the waiting room.
Tristan gives me a look of equal irritation, but his face changes when he gets a glimpse of mine. “What’s wrong? You look scared to death.”
Not even West can read me as fast as Tristan can. “I just want this over. I want everybody to be okay, and…” I pause for a deep breath. “I’m just ready for it to be done.”
“Everybody’s fine.” His engagement ring catches the light, gleaming as his hand runs up and down my chest. It’s the right ring on his long fingers. From the moment I slid it on, I knew it belonged there.
In the next fifteen seconds, all of our cell phones get pinged with texts. Even Kate’s.
Connor is the first to shout with excitement.
Helen’s whispered, “Thank you, Jesus,” is the next sound.
“A brother!” Eliza squeals, leaping from her chair. “We have a baby brother!”
Kate shrieks, and then they both go crazy.
Tristan and I look at the texts on my phone together.
West
IT’S A BOY!
Ezra Bryan Miles
May 11th 1:09 a.m.
8lbs 1oz
“Ezra,” Tristan says, nearly incoherent as he gulps back the shock of the middle name. “I love that.”
I blow out a few breaths, trying to manage the grief and the joy. Connor is crying quietly, but he’s smiling, too. “Doesn’t really go with Elizabeth and Kate,” I note, trying to get all of us back into the spirit of the thing.
My effort works. Tristan snorts. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m just saying, it’s gonna make the E’s confusing in the chat.”
“He can be Z then. Babe, will you finally relax? Jesus.”
I take a deep breath, managing an entire lungful of air for the first time in hours.
West comes for the girls first, taking them and Helen to meet the baby. Joey’s parents are still en route from Chicago. He gives me a nod before he leads his family out of the waiting room.
Connor sits between me and Tristan in our crappy chairs discussing with Tristan what the baby must look like. Does he have Joey’s dimples? Is his hair curly or straight? Does he have any tattoos?
It’s late. They’re punch-drunk and laughing.
I don’t know what I am.
Quiet.
Happy.
Beside myself.
Helen stops by the waiting room again, ready to head back to the house with Kate and Eliza. We congratulate her on her new grandchild, and with tears in her eyes she tells us he’s “just beautiful.”
I give Kate a hug and ask her if she got a chance to hold the baby. “Not yet. West said I have to wait ‘till tomorrow because he isn’t ready to let go of him.”
“I was lucky he gave me thirty seconds before he snatched him back,” Helen tells me.
“How’s Joey?” Connor asks. The two of them have gotten close, especially over the last year.
Not too close because Tristan would never allow that, but they’re good friends, and Connor has several new tattoos to show for it.
Not to mention the baby’s middle name—Bryan.
I doubt it’s a coincidence, no matter how good it sounds with Ezra.
“She’s doing fine. Blessed and happy.”
A firm tug moves my hand, and I look down at Eliza. “Congratulations,” I say to her with a smile.
She doesn’t smile back. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod.
“Not here.” She pulls at my shirt and takes me to Connor’s former corner of the waiting room. She sits and waits for me to do the same.
“What’s up?” I ask, concerned by the serious look on her face.
She puts her hands on her knees, drawing her back straight with a deep breath. “When did you first know you loved Connor?”
Eliza’s never been much for small talk. I give her a sincere look. “The first time I saw him.”
“When he was a baby?” she asks.
“Yeah.”