Chapter Thirteen #2
The flight from New Orleans to Dallas was supposed to take an hour and a half, but to Spencer the time he was on the plane was three days past eternity.
When he arrived in Dallas, he had an hour layover before the next leg of the journey started.
During that time, he found a quiet place in a corner and looked up Jimmy Smith in Hatch, New Mexico.
No social media, but with a little digging and a few dollars, he found a phone number for James Smith in Hatch.
He punched in the numbers and a woman answered. “Hello. Who is this? If it’s a telemarketer, you can hang up. Jimmy and Linda ain’t interested in none of what you are selling.”
“I’m looking for Monica or Fiona Smith.” He heard a baby fussing in the background.
“I don’t give out personal information about my great-nieces,” the woman said. “Who did you say this is?”
“Spencer Hamilton,” he answered.
“Well, hot damn!” The lady laughed. “Where in the hell are you? You should be at the hospital in El Paso, not calling here. Goodbye.”
Before he could tell her that he was in the DFW Airport, she was gone. Goose bumps popped up on his arms, and it felt like his heart stopped for a minute before it finally took off, beating too fast. Had Monica been in an accident, and if she had, how bad was it?
He heard a man’s voice saying that all first-class folks could board the next flight to El Paso that would be landing at eight o’clock that evening. He hurried over to the counter, showed the lady the code on his phone, and went straight to his seat.
He was a nervous wreck when the plane finally landed. He had only brought a carry-on bag so he didn’t have to go through the baggage claim. He practically ran outside and hailed the first cab on the curb. “I need to go to the hospital,” he said.
“Providence?” the cabby asked.
“I have no idea. Is there more than one?”
“Yep,” he answered.
Spencer called back to the same place where the lady answered. “Why are you calling here again? You need to get your ass to the hospital.”
“Which one?” he asked.
“Providence,” she barked. “Go, young man. Go!”
The screen went dark, and Spencer’s breath caught in his chest. “Yes, Providence,” he managed to get out in gasps, “and hurry, please.”
What if Monica had a fatal disease and she was dying? Could that be the reason she didn’t want to give him her last name? She knew she only had a few months to live, and it would be heartbreaking for him to see her slowly wither away to nothing.
“I can take you a back way that has less traffic lights if you want to pay extra,” the cabbie said.
“Take the fastest way possible,” Spencer said.
“What’s the hurry?”
“The love of my life could be dying,” Spencer said around the lump in his throat.
“I gotcha, man.” The cabbie left several feet of rubber behind when he gunned the taxi and left the airport.
When they arrived at the entrance of the hospital, Spencer added a big tip to what the meter read and bailed out of the cab with his carry-on bag. He went straight to the information desk.
“I’m looking for Monica Smith’s room,” he said.
The elderly lady used one finger to peck out Monica’s name on the keyboard. “Would that be Monica G. Smith or Monica S. Smith?”
“Monica G.” Spencer answered.
“She’s up in the maternity floor.”
“Why …” Spencer started to ask, but as slow as the sweet lady was, it would take her an hour to answer his question.
Still, he wondered the whole way to the elevator, why Monica would be on that particular floor.
Had she gotten married and was having a baby?
What if he had come all this way for nothing?
He reached the right floor, stepped out of the elevator, and went to the nurse’s desk. “I’m here to see Monica Smith.”
A lady in scrubs came out of a room across the hall. “Are you Spencer?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
“Monica has been yelling your name for the past half hour,” she said.
“Can I go in and see her?” he asked.
“Of course,” the nurse said. “The doctor and her sister are in there with her. Or you could stay in the waiting room with her parents.”
A baby’s cries filtered out of the room and into the hallway, and music began to play on a speaker. “What’s that?” he asked.
“A baby has been born, and on Mother’s Day to boot!”
Spencer’s mind felt like a hamster on a roller coaster during a tornado. Monica had a baby, which meant she had found someone else. He latched on to the reality that he was too late, and he turned around to leave when a tall blond came out of the room. It was Fiona.
“Is Monica in that room?” he asked.
“Why would you want to know?”
“I’m Spencer,” he answered.
“Spencer?” Monica’s voice came through the door. “Is that you?”
Spencer opened the door to Monica’s room and stopped just inside the room. Fiona followed him into the room and hurried over to stand beside the bed. Monica appreciated her sister’s love, but she didn’t need protection.
Even though she heard his voice, she still couldn’t believe that he was there.
She blinked several times, but he didn’t disappear.
This wasn’t a delusion. Her Spencer had found her.
Doubts flooded her mind. Had he come to tell her that he had found someone else, and like Stormy Lin’s father, he wanted nothing to do with the child.
Or maybe he would insist on a DNA test to prove that her son belonged to him.
“Spencer, is that really you? Am I dreaming?”
“It’s me, but …” His feet seemed to be glued to the floor.
“Come over here and meet your son,” she whispered.
“Nine pounds, and twenty-one inches long,” Fiona said, and then she and her father slipped out the door. “Y’all need a few minutes alone.”
“Is he …” Spencer wasn’t sure what to do or even say. Of all the scenarios that he had played out in his head, this certainly was not one of them.
“Evidently, I’m in the point one percent of women whose pills fail,” Monica said, “and yes, he is yours. Trust me.”
Spencer bent down and kissed her on the forehead. “What do we do now?”
“Well, you can propose. I can say yes. And we can live happily ever after. Or you can walk away. I’m not asking you for anything,” Monica told him, and then held her breath as she waited for him to answer.
“Honey, I have spent months looking for you. I don’t intend to let you or this baby out of my sight again,” he said. “Monica, will you marry me?”
“Yes, I will,” she answered. “Would you like to be the first one to hold this baby?”
“I would very much.” Spencer took him from her arms. “Hello, buddy. Your mama and I kind of did things backward, but I’m going to love both of you forever.”