27. Luke
CHAPTER 27
Luke
I try to keep my composure as a nurse in pink scrubs leads me to Gigi’s room. Passing by more of her colleagues, I don’t miss the stares that are burning holes through my skin. Long ago, back when my family’s deaths were the only thing the townies could talk about, I learned to tune out the whispers and the curious eyes. Right now, it’s hard not to notice, especially when they’re warranted.
I know what they must be thinking, what they’re saying to themselves, what they’ll probably chat about once I’m out of sight.
That must be the husband, the one who missed his children’s birth.
He reeks of alcohol.
You can’t expect much from a guy that young now, can you?
The nurse stops at one of the doors and a doctor comes out, a clipboard clutched in his arm. He takes one look at me and grins. “You must be the father!” I can hear what he’s not saying. What the hell took you so long to get here?
“Luke Palmer.” I shake his hand. “Sorry, I’m late,” I mumble, feeling like an idiot the moment the words slip out of my mouth. I’m not going to class.
“Mother and babies are doing well. We had to perform an emergency C-section. The heart rate of one of the little ones dropped at the eleventh hour and Giuliana was exhausted from pushing and the pain.” That doesn’t sound like they’re doing well.
“How are they now?” Does she look like she might serve me divorce papers anytime soon or cut off my oxygen supply in my sleep?
“Giuliana is resting and your babies are in the NICU.”
“NIC…NICU? Isn’t that like the ICU?”
The doctor gives me a small smile, not worried like I am. “Just a precaution. We often do this with premature babies, especially if they’re twins.”
“So, they’re okay?”
“They are perfectly fine,” he assures me as he nods. “The pediatrician will come in the morning and explain in detail about what to expect.”
After I express my gratitude, the nurse and the doctor leave me to face the music. Something tells me this is the moment that I’m going to start paying for my sins.
I don’t know what I was expecting to see. I’ve read enough forum entries and heard plenty of information from Dr. Patel to know that the mom and baby usually have bonding time after birth. Maybe it’s because Zach took Gigi to the nearest hospital from our apartment and not the one where Dr. Patel works at, but what I’m seeing in front of me is not a scene that I've romanticized in my head for the past few months.
I always imagined Gigi cradling the twins in her arms, breastfeeding them as she looks down at them with a smile on her face. What I get instead is the sight of Gigi in a dimly lit, sterile hospital room staring at the dark parking lot from the window next to her bed.
“I’m so, so sorry, Gi,” is the first thing I say. I grab her hand and kiss the back of her palm. She’s still not turning her head to me. “My phone was dead and I didn’t see the notifications. I’m so stupid. I remember Dr. Patel said twins usually come before the forty-week mark is up. I should’ve known better. I knew better.”
Painfully slow, Gigi finally abandons the view of the parking lot to face me, her shitbag of a husband. Also different than my worst-case scenario of her yelling at me and maybe throwing an item or two my way, she just stares at me with vacant eyes. Her voice, though, tells another story. The sound is filled with sadness. “You missed their birth, Luke.”
“I know, baby,” I whisper. There’s a first time for everything, and the day I become a father is the day I finally have the urge to call someone baby. I’m emotional right now. Besides, today, the day my twins are born, is Valentine’s Day. No better way to start becoming a romantic. Gigi’s not feeling it, though, the two gray eyes still eerily empty. It scares the fucking shit out of me.
“They had to do a C-section.”
I caress her sweaty hair. “I know that, too. I’m so proud of you.”
“Have you seen them?” she asks. Finally, I see something in her eyes. A flicker of excitement, maybe.
“Not yet.” I shake my head before kissing her temple. “I wanted to see how you were doing first.”
“My mom is up there with A and B,” she answers with a weak smile on her face. “They’re so cute.” The smile is quickly replaced with her trembling lips as she continues. “They’re so tiny.”
“It’s going to be fine,” I say, even though I don’t know if that’s the truth or not. I just got here fucking ten minutes ago. The look she gives me tells me she doesn’t believe me, either. “Have you named them yet? We can’t call them A and B forever,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
“I was thinking Ethan?” For Andrew Ethan Palmer.
“I like that,” I answer with a smile. “What about our daughter? You still want to name her Gwendolyn?” I hope the fuck not . I thought I’d have more time to convince her out of this one.
“What about Gwen?” Gigi looks to me, waiting for my approval.
Thank you, lucky stars. “I like that, too. Ethan, Gwen, Gigi, and Luke.”
All my worries about our future, my career, our finances disappear from my mind. I’m picturing something else entirely. I can see the four of us going to the park. I can see Gigi pushing the pram and me carrying one of the twins on my back. I don’t need a master’s degree to do that. We don’t need to be rich to have that.
She rests her head on the crook of my neck, and I continue to say sorry and I love you until her eyes close. Once her body goes limp next to mine, I climb back down from the bed and make my way upstairs to the NICU.
Nothing can prepare me for this moment. Not Dr. Patel, not Reddit, not even my mother-in-law/stepmother telling me that they are the most adorable human beings on Earth. My vision blurs the moment I see them. Sure, the machines they’re hooked up to are more than terrifying, but even they can’t shake the feeling of pure joy that is bouncing off the walls of my chest.
Once my hands are washed and I’m all sanitized, I approach the incubators that they’re sleeping in and speak to my children for the first time. “Hi, Ethan. Hi, Gwen,” I say. “Welcome to the Palmer family, guys. It’s me, your dad. You need lots of love, don’t you?”
With their heads covered in beanies and them sleeping, I have zero clue what color their hair and eye colors are. I don’t care. The little gremlins are fucking beautiful.
My class starts in a few hours, but I can’t be bothered to care. So I spend my time until the sun comes up humming a lullaby to my kids, instead of sleeping, with tears trickling down my cheeks. When a nurse comes in to tell me my time is up, I smile to myself, remembering something Darnell told me.
Screw the money and screw everything else. Your dreams will be different , he said. I get it now.