27. — hold it. #4
“I better never know that you exist after today. You’re not welcome in New York.
We will not do business with Chicago anymore.
And our protection for your dealings is officially withdrawn.
Be grateful I didn’t kill you. I still want to.
The only reason I won’t is because I made a promise to my wife.
Between us, it no longer matters. But you and me?
Carmine, we’ve got problems for life. Take your leave. Now.”
Carmine’s chair screeched as he stood. Someone came to stand in the doorway at the same time. Sissy.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her gaze taking in the scene but settling on Salvatore quickly enough, “I know the rules for today.”
Which meant nothing good if she broke them.
“What is it?” Salvatore asked.
“It’s your wife. Larkin contacted me. Carina is in labor.”
···
Nico had never been to Vermont.
He hadn’t ever seen the inside of Rutland Medical Center where he currently scoured for any sign of Frankie, even though he knew they weren’t on the same floor.
Yet, it felt like he did.
From the moment the helicopter pilot said they’d crossed into the state of Vermont, Nico swore he could feel her.
The closer they got, landing on the hospital’s helipad after a call was put through to request permission, the stronger that feeling became until it was her heart he felt.
The beats coming straight through the tile.
Larkin met them on the roof and easily directed them into the building and through the hallways until they had to stand at an elevator. Only then did the man talk.
“She did great, but she’s not awake,” he told Salvatore.
The wedding band on Salvatore’s hand took the brunt of whatever he didn’t say.
“And the baby?” he asked lowly.
Behind them, Nico tried to stay out of the way.
He just needed to see Frankie. After everything, it’s all he wanted.
“What about the baby?” Salvatore asked again, stronger the second time.
“It’s all good, boss man.”
“Thirty-five weeks—”
“Sal...” Larkin’s hand found the man’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “They’re both doing great.”
Nico wouldn’t fully realize the slip in Larkin’s words until later, as he stood on the other side of a pane of glass to view the two babies laying side by side in a large incubator. One wore a pink hat, the other, blue.
They’re both doing great.
On the other side of the glass, a nurse opened the side where the larger of the two babies, the boy, could be easily reached. As she carefully took him out, mindful of the tubes and wires that helped his underdeveloped lungs and monitored his vitals, Frankie smiled up at Nico.
So brightly, it ached. He hugged her tighter to his side. She hadn’t left it yet.
“There were two?” he asked her.
“All along, I guess.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re not hiding another one, right?”
“Hell no.”
Back in the nursery, Salvatore held his son for the first time gowned and gloved to keep weak immune systems safe. Nico read the baby stat placards on the incubator as the smaller of the two, the girl, made soft sounds in her bed without her brother.
Something like crying. She just couldn’t yet.
GALLO, the placards read, written in black Sharpie. The babies’ middle names had been written first, then their given ones. Except the boy had no middle name.
SJ, 5lbs, 1oz.
Darling, Dove, 3lbs, 1oz.
He was older—by one minute.
Frankie’s head found Nico’s body, and he pulled her against his chest, realizing then that she wore one of his hoodies. He had so many black ones, he probably didn’t even notice one missing. Between them, their son moved from the jostling.
“Can I come back home now?” she asked him softly.
“You didn’t ask Larkin?”
“I’m really sick of being told no.”
He laughed before leaning in to kiss those pouting lips of hers. Yeah, he bet that had been a hard thing for her.
“Yeah, you’re coming home now,” Nico promised, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “And then maybe I can finally sleep.”
Her eyes met his, searching. He let her find it. That hollow spot; scary and dark. She shone through it, his brightest light.
“Are you okay?” she asked him, the longer he stayed quiet.
Nico smiled. “Better.”
Love was not a good enough word to express how he felt for this woman.
That’s what she’d become, after all, as she stepped into adulthood, womanhood, and motherhood all at the same time.
He’d had a hand in helping along two of those, but she did all the hard work.
He couldn’t begin to imagine who Frankie would be ten or twenty years down the line, and how amazing that would undoubtedly look, and he couldn’t wait to find out.
To still be hers while it happened? That was the real gift.
No, love wasn’t a good enough word. But it would have to do.
“I love you, babe.”
“I love you, too.”
Frankie pushed up on her tiptoes in white sneakers to kiss him hard and fast before spinning back around to watch her father calm the unsettled baby girl with a pinky finger. Dove held her daddy, and her daddy held her brother.
“I’m glad, you know.”
“About what?” he asked.
“That they’ll know a happier version of him. A better one.”
“He was happy with you, too.”
He felt her nod against him.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “he never let me see it, the truth, but that hurt him a lot, too.”