Chapter 24
24
Harrison
“Harry, I need your help,” my sister says. It sounds like she’s crying, though, which isn’t like her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Sobs fill the line. “Madison?”
“The hospital. I need you.”
The freeway under my tires is too loud to catch everything over my Bluetooth. “Madison, where are you? You’re at the hospital? Cedars?”
There’s a long pause that has me panicking more than I am already. “Yes, Harry. Hurry . . .”
“I’m on my way, Maddie.”
The phone goes dead, and I call my eldest brother, glad Nick caught a ride with Cookie. “Dawson?” I say as soon as the connection is made, trying not to drive like a demon on a mission, though I am.
“Hey, are you back in town?” His tone is too casual for an emergency. I don’t want to break the news to my entire family, but she called me first, so the job falls on my shoulders.
“Madison just called me. She’s headed to the hospital.”
“Why? What happened?”
I change lanes to pass this fucking slow car driving in the fast lane. “We didn’t get that far, but I’d assume it’s for the baby.”
“Cedars?”
“Yes. I just got off the ferry. I’m going straight there.”
“Why are you the first to tell me if you’re just getting into LA?” Dawson is the most competitive of my brothers, if you take me out of the equation.
“I don’t know. Call Mom and Dad. I’m calling Jameson.”
“Okay. Hey, Harrison?”
I lay on my horn when some idiot cuts me off. “What?”
“Don’t speed. You getting in an accident won’t help the situation.”
“Point taken.”
Following the Decker phone tree protocol, my younger brother, Jameson, doesn’t answer. He might be sleeping in since it’s Sunday. I leave him a message and then try to call Madison back, but she doesn’t answer.
Dread settles into my bones.
We’ve been through hell the past few months, my sister most of all, only to have that fucker turn his back on her when she needed him most. While my parents sat in disbelief and disappointment, she had three brothers who not only could take care of the situation with him but would rally around her.
My mom worried about Madison only being nineteen and that a baby would derail her daughter’s dream of being an entertainment lawyer. I get it. At the time, Maddie was enrolled in college and a straight-A student.
I worried she wouldn’t live to see twenty.
Why’d she pick a bad boy? I mean, I know why girls fall for them, but a weed dealer who dabbled in nighttime street racing for bets probably doesn’t share the same long-term goals as my sister.
As predicted, he was out of the picture as soon as she told him. Things got worse for him when he tossed a few bills in her face and told her to handle it. She decided she would have the baby on her own.
I run into the ER and head for the nurses’ station. “Harrison?”
Turning to the side, my mom runs into my arms. I used to be the one rushing into hers. “What happened?”
“Dodson came around and wanted to talk to Maddie. I knew it was a bad idea.”
The name of that loser gets me angry. I almost killed him the first time he laid a hand on Madison. If my brother Dawson hadn’t been there . . . I probably wouldn’t be standing here.
I don’t know what he tells her, but I do know my sister. She’s not weak like the prey he treats her. I highly doubt anything comes with a please when he tells her how it’s going down.
My mom takes me to the corner of the waiting room and whispers, “I don’t have the details from Madison. All I heard from the nurse is that she was in a car accident and can’t tell me more.”
“Fuck,” I exhale, looking toward the nurses’ station.
“I’m glad you’re home,” she says, hugging me.
Hugging her back, I ask, “Where’s Dad?”
“Santa Barbara. It will take him hours to get here.” Annoyance colors her tone.
Mat walks in and looks around. Seeing us, he heads our way. “If you tell me that fucker had anything to do with this . . .”
“Please put your energy into Maddie’s recovery.” My mom goes quiet, and then adds, “And this sweet baby she’s carrying.” Tears roll down her cheeks, and she sniffles. “I can’t handle thinking about that horrible man. He won’t leave her alone.”
“Mrs. Decker?” We turn to see a doctor standing nearby looking for my mom.
“I’m here,” she says, rushing toward him. “How is my daughter?”
Mat and I stand behind her like two bodyguards flanking her, and my gut twists with concern.
“Madison’s doing well, but we’re concerned about the baby.”
Present Day
Sitting in waiting rooms is the worst. Doesn’t matter if nothing’s wrong, the fear still creeps in, implanting the what-ifs.
I toss the magazine from 2017 back on the pile and decide pacing will serve me better.
A corner door opens, and a nurse stands there staring at a chart. When she looks up, she calls, “Mr. Devreux.”
Tatum’s got a good sense of humor this morning. I hope she can keep it after whatever news we’re given. The name doesn’t bother me. Today, it attaches me to her as more than just the guy who knocked her up. “That’s me.”
I walk toward her and follow her down the hall. I’m shown to a room to wait by myself. Before I have time to read all about the Heimlich from the poster, a knock draws my attention, and then the door opens. Tatum smiles the second she sees me and hurries into my open arms.
She says, “We’re pregnant.”
My arms don’t leave her, and I don’t look down. I stay still in the moment, closing my eyes and releasing a breath that feels long-held.
Gentle sobs rock her body as she clings to me. I can’t decipher between sadness or happiness from the sound, but I steal a second to savor those two words. I’m not sure what’s going to happen between us, but at this moment, we’re united as one.
When she releases me, she grabs a tissue from the box on the counter. Wiping under her eyes, she looks at me. “What do you think, Harrison? I need to know what you’re thinking.”
Yesterday, I had determined she needed to lead. Today, she needs me. “Have you made a decision you haven’t shared with me?” I ask cautiously.
She plops down on the hard, plastic chair and shakes her head. “I don’t think I should keep anything from you. This baby is yours as well as mine, but it’s growing inside me, so I appreciate you asking.” Her eyes find the anatomical makeup poster of a pregnant woman. Although I think parts of this scare her, I’m not sure what she’ll decide.
Getting up again, she comes to me and leans her head on my chest. “It wasn’t real yesterday. It was shock factor and reaction. I was trying my best not to believe it because what if those tests were wrong.”
I realize we all process things differently, even on different timelines. When I was freaking out last night, she was waiting to have confirmation. I’m not sure that either is right or wrong, but I know that I did a disservice to her last night. What will I do this time?
Looking up at me, she continues, “I’m going to have this baby.”
I reach out for the wall beside me, needing the support. I’m not sure what I expected, but that doesn’t seem to be it. But I can wholeheartedly attest that’s the answer I was hoping for.
It’s strange how life comes at you. It wasn’t but a few weeks ago that she hated me. I couldn’t even get Tatum to make eye contact. If she did, it was full of a rage I couldn’t extinguish. Time has given me a second chance. Life has changed for her and for me. I can only hope for the better for both of us.
I’ve stood too quiet because she asks, “What do you want to do?”
We don’t have any details worked out. There’s not one plan in place. How could there be? All of this is unexpected, but the direction of our lives has changed, and I’ll change with it. I am nothing like him. Unlike Madison, Tate will not be left to raise this baby alone. “I want this baby, Tate.”
Again, she embraces me, not waiting, not seeking my permission, just full-on hugs me. It’s not something I’m used to in general with girlfriends. But like I’ve always known, Tatum is special.
“What happens now?” she asks.
“Not sure. There’s a lot to think about and plan. But now that we know?—”
“And half of Manhattan because of the surprise party last night.”
I give her that, tipping my head. “I think we take a few days to just enjoy this. You want this baby. I want this baby. There’s a lot to celebrate with this new life.”
The nurse comes in and says, “Okay, you’re all ready to go, Ms. Devreux. We’ve set your next appointment.” She hands her an appointment card. “And we look forward to seeing you then. Congratulations to you both.”
“Thanks,” I say, letting the news sink in.
We hold hands as we leave. I’m not Mr. Devreux, and she’s not Mrs. Decker, but we’re together, happy, and bringing a new life into the world. It might not be a perfect bow to some, but life feels pretty damn grand to me right now.
Just as we push through the exit doors, I ask, “Hungry?”
“Starving. I’m craving French toast. Want to go get breakfast? I know a great diner up ahead.”
I’m pretty sure cravings don’t start this early. I also never expected to hear Tatum request diner food since she’s more the Michelin-starred restaurant type. I’m happy to oblige her every whim if it means spending time with her and enjoying this next stage together.
As we walked down the street, I ask, “When can we tell our families?”
She stops and pulls her phone from her bag. Reading a text message on the screen, she then holds it so I can see it. Her parents will be in Manhattan for one night.
This Friday.
The night after her birthday.
“I guess on my birthday. No time like the present to tell your parents you’re pregnant,” she replies.
Remembering how her mom acted at the anniversary party, I say, “Well, this should be interesting.”