7. More Questions Than Answers
Chapter seven
More Questions Than Answers
Edward
“They’re both a healthy weight. Have they eaten?”
“Evelyn took right to it. Harper, not so much.” Chelsea leans back in the bed, an arm draped over her face. I can’t imagine how exhausted she must be. Though with the three strapping men in here to help her out, I’m sure she’s better off than most new mothers.
What’s the situation here, anyway?
“We just need to take down your information for the birth certificates we’ll send in a few weeks.”
Chelsea and the three men suddenly look at each other; two of them are each holding a twin.
“Can we have a moment to discuss things, please?” The eldest of the men speaks; I think he might be the leader of this merry bunch.
“Absolutely. Take as much time as you need.” I leave with a smile and close the door behind me, leaving it slightly ajar.
Okay, there’s definitely a story there.
Huh. I thought Miss Bailey would be back by now. I shake my head, wondering if Drake is putting the moves on her right now. Part of me wants to go searching and stop them in the act before he does something stupid, but my obligations right now are to the people on the other side of that door.
“Why isn’t Maria back yet? It’s been a few hours.” Chelsea sounds concerned. One of the twins starts to make a fuss. Someone hushes them and I see the eldest pass in front of the door to the other side of the bed.
“Something... happened.”
“What do you mean something happened, Morgan?”
“It’s not my story to tell. But there’s a reason she hasn’t come back yet.”
Wow. They must be really close to her, aren’t they? She’s not as alone as I’d originally thought. Still, why wouldn’t she want them to know if they’re her friends?
“Well, how bad is it?” one of the other men asks. I’m guessing from the richness of his tone that he’s the youngest of the three.
“I...” Morgan clams up and shakes his head. “Let’s just say you can ask her about it when she comes over tonight.”
“Comes over? Morgan, you’re starting to worry me.”
“And I’m worried for her being alone at a time like this.”
“How the hell can you be so vague about this?! Would you stop beating around the bush!”
“I would but I swore to not tell anyone. She’ll let you know on her own terms.”
Now, this is starting to sound scandalous. Why wouldn’t she want her friends to know about her? I don’t even know what the deceased’s relationship with her was, but it must have been close if she’s this upset about it.
“I understand you want to protect her privacy, Morgan. I know she told you in confidence. But if Maria needs help, she should get it from all of us. It’s what she deserves,” Chelsea says, sounding extremely concerned. That’s no condition for a new mother to be in.
I need this to stop.
“Okay, I think it’s time we gave Miss Fisher some rest,” I say as I barge back in, pretending as if I hadn’t heard the entire conversation. “I can only ask for one of you to be here and stay with her. So who is it going to be?”
The three men look at each other in question. The one named Morgan turns to look at me.
“I have something to take care of, so I’m going to let these two fight it out.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the other two men and heads out the door. One down, one more to go.
“Clay should stay,” the third guy chimes in, the first time he’s spoken during this entire exchange. “This means a lot to him.”
The man called Clay backhands the other on the shoulder, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.
“Not more than it does to any of you guys!”
“Oh, please, who’s the one with commitment issues all his life?”
“Hey.” Chelsea’s voice is low yet commanding, and the two men snap to attention.
“We don’t wield someone’s personal issues against them, remember?”
They hang their heads in shame. I try my best to hide my amusement.
“I’m fine with staying,” Clay says and gives me a mock salute. “But I’ve gotta piss first.”
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry for him,” the third man apologizes. His gaze shoots daggers into the back of the young man retreating out the door.
“It’s fine,” I try to play it off. “Trust me, that behavior is not the worst I’ve seen in my career. Many new dads don’t even show up to their children being born.”
The two stare at me in disbelief. I’ve said too much, haven’t I?
“Anyway, as I said, I’m going to need names for the birth certificates, preferably before the end of the day.”
“We’ll get that to you as soon as possible, thanks. Norman, could you go grab me a pen and some paper, please?”
“No problem.”
Once he’s out of the room, I breathe a sigh of relief that there’s only one person to talk to now.
“Well, you handled that expertly. Already reading parenting books?”
“I’m a therapist,” she replies. That stops me in my tracks. It definitely explains their responses.
“Ah. That makes sense. Just as a warning, I don’t think newborns are going to be as receptive.”
Chelsea chuckles and leans back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“Thanks for getting them to leave. I needed a break from all their questions, to make sure I’m okay. They act like I’m some delicate Ming vase perched on the edge of a shelf, about to break.”
“Hey, they’re just concerned for your well-being, I wouldn’t hold it against them too much. They obviously all care about you.” I clear my throat. “Speaking of which... which one of them’s the father?”
Chelsea straightens a little. The look in her eyes tells me I’ve overstepped a boundary.
“I’ll get the paperwork to you as soon as possible.” Her tone is cold and standoffish.
Okay, then, a reminder not to ask that question again.
“Right. Get some rest. I’ll have the nurses bring you some dinner when you’re ready... Wasn’t there a little girl in here earlier?”
“Grace? She’s with my friend and my brothers. They probably took her out to dinner.”
“Large family you’ve got there. Which is a good thing once we kick you out of here. Having a support structure’s going to make things a little easier for you.”
“Yeah, I don’t understand how some women think they can go through this without more people helping. It's exhausting.”
“Having more than one extra pair of hands would make things easier, wouldn't it?” I squeeze her shoulder and check over her vitals and charts one last time. “Get some rest. The real work begins once you get home.”
“Would it be too much to rent one of your nurses from you?” she asks with an apologetic smile. I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ll see what I can do.”