Chapter 6 #2
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to find all this shit, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do you want me to bring you anything to eat?”
I shake my head. That would only delay him longer.
“No, that’s enough.”
“Mommy!” Raiden cheers as he runs past Biggie who holds the door open with one hand, and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He bends down, handing the flowers to Legend, who takes them but makes no move to fully enter the hospital room.
“Easy, buddy,” Shotgun says, as he catches him by the waist and throws him over his shoulder, effectively halting him from body slamming himself on top of the bed.
“Mommy’s belly is still sore from where they took Killian out.
” He tickles his sides, causing a fleet of giggles to burst free.
The sound so sweet. “How’s it feel to be a big brother? ”
My gaze cuts back to where Legend stands. “I’m so happy to see you boys.” I hold out my hand, silently encouraging him to come closer. “I missed you both so much.”
Shotgun gently deposits Raiden on the foot of my bed before walking over to Legend.
“She’s okay, Legend. I promise.” He holds up his pinky, and I watch as my son slowly lifts his and winds it around Shotgun’s.
Then his eyes come to mine, and he drops his hand to his side.
I wink at him, and a tear falls from the corner of my eye.
He comes to the side of the bed and pushes the flowers toward me.
“We got these for you.”
Thumbing away the stray tear, I smile widely.
“They’re beautiful, but you know what I could really use right now?
” He sets the flowers on the rolling table next to my bed before leaning over the railing to press a kiss to my cheek.
I wrap my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“I’m so sorry I scared you, but I’m proud of you for calling Uncle Shotty for help.
That was brave, and your dad would be so proud too. ”
“Me too!” Raiden says. “You proud of me too!”
I laugh. The sound foreign to my own ears. “Yes, of course. Come here and give me some sugar. Just be gentle, okay? Uncle Shotty was right when he said Mommy’s belly is still healing.”
“When are you able to come home?” Legend asks as he settles into my side, giving his brother room to hug me.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly, but as I say those words another reality hits me—one I haven’t allowed myself to entertain. There is a strong possibility I will be discharged without Killian. I don’t know how I’m going to manage that.
“Can we see the baby?” Raiden asks.
Still worrying about how I’m going to take care of two kids at home and a preemie in the hospital, I don’t answer right away.
“Because your brother couldn’t wait to meet you and came a little early, he needs a little T.L.C.
so they have him in a special unit in the hospital, but when he’s strong enough you’ll be able to see him.
He’s already the coolest baby in the hospital, rocking a pair of shades like it’s nobody’s business,” Shotgun tells him.
“I took a picture.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “Is it okay if I show them?”
I nod and he moves closer, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. When he finds the picture, he shows it to the boys.
“He really has sunglasses,” Raiden exclaims. “I want a pair of sunglasses.”
“You can have mine, little man,” Biggie says. Kicking off the wall he’s leaning on, he pulls the glasses out from the neckline of his shirt and props them on his nose. They’re way too big for his little face, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Why does he have so many wires connected to him?”
“They’re just monitoring him to make sure he continues to do well,” I say, finally finding my voice. I smooth a lock of his hair away from his forehead. “He’s already doing a lot better than when he was first born.”
“Hey, why don’t you guys get a little closer to your mom so I can take a picture of the three of you,” Shotgun suggests. My eyes find his and he points to the shirts the boys are wearing. “Isn’t that why you sent me on a wild goose chase for those t-shirts?”
“Let’s try this again, baby,” I murmur as I guide Killian to my breast. He nuzzles close but shows no feeding cues. The nurse suggests trying to get him to latch onto my other nipple, but that doesn’t work either.
“It could be a number of things that’s preventing him from latching. We can try again in a couple of hours. In the meantime, I think you should pump, and we can try bottle feeding.”
I furiously wipe at my cheeks. “I don’t have a pump.”
I’m the world’s most unprepared mother.
“Mrs. Callahan we have everything you need here. Please don’t get upset. Fed is best no matter how it’s done.”
I know that, but my brain isn’t working right. My world imploded three weeks ago, and I think it’s finally fully hitting me. “Can you take him?”
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll get you a pump so that you can start pumping in the privacy of your own room. When you’re done, we can try bottle feeding.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“We have other options.”
I snuggle him closer, pressing my lips to the top of his head before I hand him back to the nurse. Then I turn back to Shotgun. “Can you take me back to my room?”
Without saying a word he does just that, and once we’re inside, he moves to help me back to bed.
I try to push him away, but when I straighten up, the pain in my abdomen returns.
So reluctantly, I lean on him, and when he props the pillow under my head, I murmur my thanks.
He’s been patient, and kind. A lifesaver really, but I think I need a break.
Maybe if I have myself a good cry then I’ll snap out of whatever funk this is.
However, before I can properly express that, Shotgun speaks up.
“Jade, we need to talk.”
“I’m not really in the mood to talk, Shotgun.”
“I understand that, so I’ll make it quick before I get out of your hair for a little while.”
Sighing, I meet his gaze. “What is it?”
“I ran into your doctor when I walked Biggie and the boys out. He’s discharging you tomorrow morning.”
I don’t know what I did wrong to have so many things go against me, but man, I sure as hell must’ve pissed someone off.
“The last I spoke with the pediatrician in the NICU, he indicated that Killian would have to stay longer,” he continues. “His breathing is starting to improve, but now with the jaundice situation, that set him back a little.”
“Despite how much I’m failing, this isn’t my first rodeo, Shotgun. I didn’t think they’d discharge him with all the wires connected to him, and with him not eating, that’s going to only cause more issues.”
The reality is it could be weeks before he comes home.
“Okay, so we need a plan. You can’t be in two places at once. I respect that you don’t want to stay at the clubhouse, but my apartment isn’t equipped for kids.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
“The side apartment you and Irish planned to have Irene move into…it’s still vacant, yeah?”
My brows pinch together as I try to figure out where he’s going with this.
“Yes, we never finished the work renovating it.”
“It got working plumbing?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m suggesting that I crash there until you get on your feet.”
I scoff. “Absolutely not.”
I don’t know if he didn’t hear my response or if he’s choosing to blatantly ignore me, but he continues to ramble on like as though I didn’t say a fucking word.
“I’ll help get the kids off to school in the mornings, and you can come spend time with Killian. I don’t know how feedings and all that shit works, but I think babies eat every couple of hours and depending how you decide to do that—whether by breast or bottle—you’re going to need to be here.”
He isn’t wrong about that. If it turns out that I do have to bottle feed, I’ll likely have to pump and drop off my milk for the nurses to feed him when I’m not able to. How he’s aware of any of this is beyond me, though.
“How do you even know that?”
An exasperated breath leaves his lips, and he scratches at the scruff lining his jaw. “When I was with the baby, I saw another NICU mom come and drop off her milk.”
“How observant of you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jade. Why is it so hard for you to accept my help?
” He combs his fingers roughly through his hair, tugging at the ends.
My eyes widen at his tone, but I remain quiet.
I guess I finally poked hard enough. He releases his hair, dropping his hands to his sides, and balls his fists.
“I’m going for a walk. Try to be fucking reasonable when I get back. ”
Shotgun returned a half hour later with a turkey sandwich from the cafeteria, and a bottle of orange juice. He angrily tossed them on the table next to my bed.
“Eat,” he said gruffly before he took a seat in the corner of the room. He hasn’t said a word since, and neither have I. I did eat the sandwich, though. Not because he ordered me to, but because I was starving. I even drank the orange juice, and I hate orange juice.
A knock sounds on the door, and we both lift our heads as it opens.
“Good afternoon, I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Shotgun mutters, crossing his arms against his chest.
“Are you one of the lactation specialists?”
“No, I’m Lisa Crowl. I’m one of the social workers here at the hospital. I was told you wanted to make some changes to your healthcare proxy.” She taps her fingers against the folder she’s holding. “Is now a good time?”
I stare at her blankly. “I think you may be confusing me with someone else.”
“You’re Mrs. Callahan, are you not?”
“I am but—”
Shotgun cuts me off. “Thank you. You can leave the papers on the table. If we have any questions, we’ll be sure to reach out.”
Ms. Crowl’s gaze cuts to him, and she smiles. “Very well. My card is stapled to the inside of the folder.” Her gaze darts to me. “Congratulations on the new edition.”