Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Kace
Another week in the hospital passes in a blur of pain, PT to practice getting into and out of the wheelchair and using crutches, endless doctors and blood draws, and all things medical.
The highlight is always getting to see my girl—girls—at the end of the day. Sometimes Pierce brings them. Or Gabe.
But Lindsey pitches in, too.
Mads says Lindsey volunteers to bring them so that Bronwyn can stay at the bookstore and Pierce, an EMT buddy who works part time at the station as well as waitresses, can catch up on sleep.
All I know is that I'm grateful for the help and know my girls are in good hands.
That's a huge relief and one I can't take for granted.
Lindsey tends to make herself scarce after she walks the girls to the door. And she doesn't typically linger beyond small talk when she returns to take them home. Obviously my questions about her situation struck a nerve, so she makes a point of keeping things on a surface level.
I respect that. Because God knows there are a lot of questions she could be asking me about my situation with my girls, but she hasn't.
That said, it doesn't take a lot of probing to get a daily scoop from Dani about what she's overheard at the bookstore or fire station. I barely have to ask a question before my precocious daughter repeats every word she's heard that day.
I shouldn't encourage gossip, but since Lindsey is pitching in with my girls, I also want to know who they're around. What kind of person she is. That type of thing.
At least that's what I tell myself as I hint around for more and more info.
Madi isn't as forthcoming as Dani, but Mads does offer up a comment or two whenever Dani repeats something she doesn't quite understand or gets something confused.
Madi clears the air like a knowing Italian nonna before going back to her sullen self.
Mads and I are watching a replay of Friends in silence while Dani uses glitter markers to color on my cast. The guys are going to have a field day when they see all the pink—including flowers and a freaking unicorn—but I'll wear Dani's sweetness with pride. I am a girl dad, after all.
A soft knock sounds at the door, and all three of us turn to face the newcomer.
My heart tugs when I spy her. Lindsey looks worse than she did a week ago.
Thinner and paler and maybe even more green around the gills.
I frown at the sight of her, wondering if she's eating enough.
Resting enough. Obviously not, given her condition and appearance.
"Hey, come on in. You're missing the party. "
"Sorry. I don't mean to intrude, but—Madi didn't answer the text I sent."
"Sorry. My phone died, and I don't have a charger," Mads says.
"No problem. I—I don't want to rush you, but I thought you girls might be ready to go?"
Lindsey is dead on her feet, I realize, remembering when Dani's mom was pregnant and how that first trimester left her a zombie.
She'd fall asleep in the weirdest places, physically unable to keep her eyes open.
"Visiting hours aren't over yet. Why don't you grab a seat on the couch and watch the show with us? "
I can't say I want her driving with my girls right now. Behind the wheel? Navigating traffic? No.
"Oh, um—"
"Please, Lindsey? I'm not done," Dani says, smiling at Lindsey with her adorable grin. "I can't leave now. I have to finish my princess carriage."
I watch as Lindsey's gaze shifts to my cast and love how her eyes twinkle with amusement when she gets a good look at the array of colors. Despite her visible fatigue, her mouth drops in an O that turns into a grin that softens her beautiful face.
"I suppose I can't interrupt an artist at work," she murmurs, her gaze landing on mine and sparkling a bit more.
I reach a hand behind me and snag one of the pillows propping me up and toss it to the loveseat, ignoring the pain in my back from the healing burns. "Get comfortable. She could be a while."
I watch as Lindsey sinks her teeth into her lower lip and hesitantly steps deeper into the room.
Pure exhaustion drags at her slumped shoulders and guilt gnaws at me for noticing more than the fact she looks one step from collapsing in exhaustion.
She needs rest, and the couch is as close to comforting her as I can offer.
She needs it far more than my salacious thoughts.
Dani continues with her masterpiece, swapping pink for silver, and Mads and I go back to watching the show in silence.
Lindsey makes it all of four minutes before she nods off the first time.
She shifts on the couch, sits up and surreptitiously glances my way to see if I noticed.
I lock my gaze on Jennifer Aniston and pretend I didn't.
It takes a minute before Lindsey relaxes back into the cushions. Another before she squirms to get more comfortable. And one or two more before she nods off again. Mads opens her mouth as though she's about to say something, but I catch her gaze and shake my head, tilting it toward Lindsey.
My niece follows my cue and then smirks before going back to her favorite show.
Lindsey shifts again, her head propped on her hand, but this time, her lashes lower and stay down as she drifts off to sleep.
The Friends marathon continues for the next hour. Dani pipes up a time or two before I hush her with a head tilt, but Lindsey is so exhausted; she doesn't so much as flicker an eyelash at the noise.
A while later, Mads takes Dani to the snack machine and to see a fish tank somewhere in a waiting area, and I find myself watching Lindsey sleep. She's stirred a few times like she's coming out of her nap, but she hasn't woken yet, and I like being able to observe her without her guard up.
I noticed Lindsey the first moment I set eyes on her, but out of respect for Gabe and the fact I've got my hands full with a kid plus one, I kept my interest to myself. Especially since Lindsey was only visiting.
Then to find out she's pregnant? That just makes her more off-limits and takes a bad idea up a few notches. I honestly thought she'd have headed back to California by now. The bookstore is open, a week has passed. But no one has mentioned anything about Lindsey's plans.
My gaze is drawn back to her dark hair, and I picture her greenish eyes sparkling the way they had at the sight of my cast. The pretty color makes me think of pine trees with a dusting of ice or snow sparkling in the sun.
Like her eyes, she's winter pale despite the fact it's the middle of summer. I know she hasn't been in town long, but hasn't she gone to the beach once? Caught some rays on Bronwyn's balcony? Or has she felt so bad from morning sickness that she hasn't even considered it?
I'm still watching her and pondering my questions when she blinks a time or two and then shoves upright with a gasp.
"You're okay," I rush to tell her in a soft tone. "You just took a much-needed nap."
Lindsey looks dazed when she glances my way before shifting her attention to the rest of the room.
I clear my throat and try again. "Madi took Dani to see the fish tank and get a snack so you could sleep off the fatigue."
"I can't believe I did that. I am so sorry."
"Don't be. You needed the rest, and I'd prefer you do it here rather than fall asleep behind the wheel. You didn't snore, if that's what you're worried about."
She runs a hand over her face before shoving her dark hair back with an embarrassed laugh.
"Would you tell me if I did?"
"Oh, yeah. Make a video and everything," I tease.
Her cheeks go rosy pink, and she fusses with her shirt to straighten it.
"It's embarrassing. Earlier today, I fell asleep while on hold with my roommate in California," she mutters, covering a yawn with her hand. "And then I went downstairs to help Win…Bronwyn—I'm still getting used to the name change. Anyway, I fell asleep at the desk."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"It wasn't—until two customers came to check out and stood there because they didn't want to wake me."
I chuckle at the image. "The first trimester is rough. Dani's mom could sleep twenty hours a day, and it wasn't enough."
She shakes her head. "Well, I have to do better. I have too much to do to be falling asleep all the time."
I get having stuff to do but— "Your body needs rest, Lindsey. It's creating a tiny human. That's no small thing."
"I know, but—I've decided to move here, and I have to find a job and a place to live, get ready for"—she waves her hands in the air above her belly—"the tiny human. I don't have time to sleep."
I frown at that, hating that she's going through this alone. "I know this is none of my business, but the dad's not in the picture at all?"
She shakes her head. "No. And he never will be."
Okay then. Answers that question.
Sort of. I wonder about the circumstances, but given our near-stranger status, I can't ask—yet. Another visit or two and I'll cite family via the firehouse and Gabe through his relationship with Bronwyn just to get some details. Until then…
One of my docs walks in, and I watch when the man pauses to take a long, appreciative look at Lindsey.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Benjamin. Are you Mrs. McCallum?"
"No, I—I'm just a friend. Visiting and helping out with the girls. I'm Lindsey."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Lindsey."
"Doc?" I growl, making no bones about my tone. Lindsey and I might only be friends, but I've heard the good doc hit on every female under the age of eighty in the last week or so. He isn't for Lindsey.
The man's gaze shoots back to me, but he looks completely unbothered by my glare.
"Mr. McCallum, I have good news. Your labs all came back within range, and PT says you're managing the wheelchair well enough to go home—with conditions, of course. Otherwise, it's off to our hospital's rehab for you."
"I'm going home," I tell the man.
"If certain conditions are met then—"
"What kind of conditions?" I ask, cutting him off so he'd get to the point.
"That you have home care, mainly," the man says.
"What do you mean? A nurse? Doc, I wanna get out of here, but I don't need a nurse."
"No, you don't," he agrees. "But you will need help.
You have to stay off that leg other than for short trips to the bathroom.
and you can't use crutches because of the burns.
You'll need twenty-four-hour care at first. Someone to stay with you and help you with food, getting you to the bathroom, assist with bathing, drive you to your appointments and PT. That sort of thing."
"I can do it," Madi says from the doorway.
As much as I want to glom onto her offer, I can't. "You can't drive, sweetheart. And I'd say this person has to be of age."
"They do," the doc confirms.
"I appreciate the offer, Mads." To the doc I say, "I'll figure it out. How soon can I leave? Now?"
The little jerk chuckles at my readiness and shakes his head. "Tomorrow morning—if care is in place, and our care team can confirm who will be staying with you. They'll need to be here in person to get you."
"What about me?" Lindsey asks abruptly.
My head swings in her direction, and she looks as shocked by the words as I feel by the idea.
"I mean, um, I could do it. I've decided to move here and could stay with you and pitch in with appointments and stuff in exchange for room and board. Until you're well enough to be on your own, that is. It'd give me time to find a place to live while getting out of Bronwyn and Gabe's way."
"Can she, Daddy? Can Lindsey live with us?"