“Seriously. You’re too important to drive now?” Gabe asks as we climb in. “You’ve gotta be kidding, bro.”
“I love to drive,” I argue, and I wistfully think of my beloved ’69 Charger sitting in my garage at home, covered with a tarp. “My grandfather just liked the idea of being driven. He thought it was a good image for the employees to see.”
“Well, guess what?” Gabe tells me as Brand fires up his truck. “You’re the boss now.”
“That’s very true.” I don’t tell them that at the moment, I don’t think my right knee would be able to take the workings of the pedals.
I start to text Mila, to let her know I’ll be out of the office for a few hours, but my phone is dead.
“Shit. I really have to be home on time.”
Gabe rolls his eyes. “Dude, we’re having a drink. Not kidnapping you to Tijuana.”
I know I should just go home. But the idea of dulling the pain a little is appealing. And seriously… what could happen? I’m with Gabe and Brand. I don’t know why I’m hesitant.
When I climb out of the truck at the pub, my knee almost gives out. Brand grabs my arm, catching me from collapsing onto the pavement.
“Dude, this isn’t good.” He’s concerned. “I don’t think you should be bearing weight on that.”
I shouldn’t be. The doctor told me as much.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
After I limp inside and get situated in a booth, I prop my foot on a nearby chair. I don’t intend on leaving this spot.
I signal for the waitress, and order a whiskey. Gabe and Brand get one too, and when the girl is gone, Gabe glances at me.
“You know, I guess I should’ve asked… is this ok? You haven’t been out drinking in a long time. I don’t want it to cause you a problem. You know, after…”
“After what?” I stare him in the eyes and make him say it.
“After a few years ago. When you had… your issues.”
“My issues were never being an alcoholic,” I remind him. “Did I use it to lose myself? Yeah, I guess I did. But that was a choice I made. When you’re an alcoholic, it’s a need. I didn’t need to. I wanted to. I’m fine.”
He doesn’t look completely convinced, but doesn’t say anything more.
Our drinks are delivered, and I drink mine quickly.
Within a minute, my chest is warm, and within another five, the pain has dulled. I signal for another. If one is good, two is better.
10
Chapter Nine
Mila
There is something wet between my legs.
I realize that as I watch Zuzu play in the back gardens, and I am sitting in the shade of the house, curled up a chair.
I’m bleeding.
I call for Natasha. She comes out, casually at first, then she sees my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks in alarm.
“I need to go to the doctor, I tell her. “Please watch Zuzu.”
I am out the door, leaving her staring after me in confusion.
I try to call Pax from the car, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I call his office.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate,” Sasha tells me. “He left for the day over an hour ago.”
“Are you sure?” I ask her. Because he hasn’t come home.
“Quite sure,” she assures me.
“Ok,” I answer, hanging up. I call Maddy next.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” she responds, after I explain.
She actually beats me there, and when I arrive, she is pacing in front of the ER doors.
“Where’s Pax?” she asks, glancing around me.
“I don’t know.”
We head to the admittance desk, and within thirty minutes, I’m in an exam room, with my gown tied in the back.
“If you could like flat,” the doctor tells me, “We’ll have a look-see.”
He’s got a sonogram wand in his hand, and the gel is warm on my belly. I hold my breath as he searches for a heartbeat and Maddy clutches my hand.
Then,
Then,
There it is.
A strong whirring noise, fast and loud, like a hummingbird’s wings.
“There it is,” the doctor says triumphantly. “It sounds good.”
He pushes and prods, and examines the sonogram screen.
“I don’t see any visible signs of distress,” he tells me. “Sometimes, vaginal bleeding can occur for unexplained reasons. Let’s put you on bed-rest this week, and you can follow up with your doctor on Monday.”
I nod, and I’m so relieved. Maddy hugs me.
“It’s ok,” she tells me. “It’s ok.”
I feel weak and relieved, and Maddy slips out so I can wipe the goop off and get dressed. I try to call Pax again.
No answer.
What the hell?
I feel shaky with my relief, and Maddy wants to drive me home.
I shake my head. “No. Then we’ll just have to come back for my car. It’s easier this way.”
Maddy stares at me. “You can send someone for your car. You have that luxury now.”
I forgot. “You’re right.”
I leave my car and climb into Maddy’s. She makes only one stop, and that is in the drive-through of a hamburger joint to get food and milkshakes.
“You have to keep your strength up,” she justifies, as she shoves fries in her mouth.
“What about you?”
“Sister solidarity.”
“Valid,” I nod, sipping on my chocolate shake. I keep one hand on my belly protectively, as though it will help.
“You’re ok,” Maddy reminds me at a stoplight. “All is well.”
I nod. “Ok.”
“Quit worrying. That only makes things worse.”
She calls Gabe through her Bluetooth.
“Hey, babe!” he answers on the speaker, and it’s loud in the background. “What’s up?”
“I’m just driving Mila home from the hospital,” she tells him. “I might be a little late coming home.”
“The hospital?” Gabe is surprised, and I hear him talking in the background with someone. Then Pax is on the phone.
“Maddy, why was Mila in the hospital? Is she all right?”
The sound of his familiar voice makes me relax into the seat, immediately comfortable.
My Pax.
“I’m fine, babe,” I tell him. “Just a little blood. I freaked out and went to the ER. I couldn’t get ahold of you…”
“My damned phone was dead,” he tells me quickly. “Gabe and Brand took me for a drink, and I planned to be home on time. I still will be. In fact, we’ll leave right now. I’ll meet you at home.”
“You’re at a bar?” I ask him, confused. This isn’t like him.
“Yeah. It’s no big deal, babe. I’m so sorry you couldn’t reach me. That will never happen again. My phone will always be charged.”
“Ok,” I answer, but I’m still a bit bewildered. Pax hasn’t touched much alcohol at all in years. I’m not concerned, just… startled, I guess. This is twice in a week.
Maybe he’s decided, after all this time, that he’s ok with it.
That’s probably a good sign. Maybe? I don’t know.
“Mila, I love you,” he tells me. “I’ll see you soon.”
He hangs up, and Maddy looks at me. “See? He’s fine. You’re fine. All is well.”
She drives for a minute or two longer, then gives me side-eye.
“Should he be at a bar?”
“Pax knows his limitations,” I say firmly, and I believe that. “He chose to give up alcohol. If he thinks he can handle it now, then he can. I trust him.”
“Of course!” Maddy answers. “I trust him too.”
But we’re quiet, and I think we’re both wondering the same thing. Does Pax know what is best?
“His grandfather did just die,” Maddy says a bit later. “And you’ve had to move. And his leg is hurting him. I can tell. That’s a lot o
f change. And he’s worried about you, too.”
“I know,” I tell her. “Trust me. But Pax would say something if he felt overwhelmed. He doesn’t keep things from me. Not anymore.”
“That’s true,” Maddy admits, and she sounds relieved. “That’s very true.”
“So stop worrying,” I tell her. “All is well.”
“Don’t use my own words against me,” she demands indignantly. “That’s a very wise line, and I’m the one who uses it.”
I roll my eyes. “Ok. You own the line.”
“Damn straight.”
I nibble at my hamburger for the rest of the trip, and when we get to my home, Maddy shuffles me out and into the house. She hovers like a mother hen, and makes sure I go straight to the couch.
“You’re supposed to be on bed-rest this week,” she reminds me. “No walking around. Just to the bathroom.”
“Yes, mother.”
She glares. “Don’t take this lightly.”
I roll my eyes again. “Do you really think I’ll take it lightly?”
“No. I suppose not.”
She’s in the kitchen getting me a drink of water when Pax rushes through the door. He’s limping, of course, but he’s moving fast. Gabe and Brand are on his heels.
“Are you ok?” he asks, and he sits next to me, shoving my hair out of my eye. “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” I assure him. “I’m fine. I swear to God.”
He swallows. “And the baby is…”
“Okay, too. I’m supposed to be on bed-rest this week, and then follow up with Dr. Sturgeon on Monday. It’s ok. All is well.”
Maddy clears her throat as she comes back in, and I stare at her. “It is,” I insist.
“I know,” she says, setting my tray down. “I coined the phrase.”
“You did not,” Gabe guffaws. “Brand taught you that.”
“Oh, did he?” I ask, my eyebrows raised, and Maddy has the grace to look sheepish. Brand grins.
“It’s something my grandma used to say,” he tells us. “Are you feeling ok, Mila?”
I nod. “Yeah. Thank you for bringing Pax.” I turn to my husband. “My car is at the hospital. We’ll have to go get it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures me. “It’ll be taken care of.”
Maddy covers my legs with a blanket. “Are you ok now? Do you need anything else?”
“If she does, I’ll get it for her,” Pax tells her. “Don’t worry, Mad.”
“As if,” I say under my breath, and Gabe hears. He grins.
“You know her too well. You’d better silence your phone tonight. She might try to call you at midnight to check on you.”
“Good idea.”
“Very funny,” Maddy announces. “You guys think you know me so well.”
“We do,” Gabe tells her. “Now let’s go and let your sister rest.”
She kisses me. “If you need anything, you call me. I mean it.”
“Thanks, Mad.”
They leave, and Brand goes with them. Pax and I are left alone.
“What’s happening?” I ask him quietly. “Why do I feel so nervous?”
But Pax holds my hand and everything is fine, because it always is when he’s with me.
“All is well,” he says, and he smiles and it is like the sun.
11
Chapter Ten
Pax
I just lied to my wife.
I feel it in my gut.
All is not well. Not with me.
But I refuse to trouble Mila with it. I’m even more convinced of that now.
So I hold her hand, and stroke her hair, and ignore the pain in my leg, and I ignore the feeling of slipping down a hillside. I’m slipping, and I don’t know how or why. I just know that I am.
I walk with her to our bedroom, and she stops to kiss Zuzu’s forehead. Our daughter is sleeping peacefully, with her lamp on that makes stars dance on the ceiling. I turn it off.
“See? She’s fine,” I tell her. Mila smiles.
“She looks so much like Maddy.”
I agree with that.
“I want this one to look like you,” she adds. I shake my head.
“No way. Don’t do that to the poor kid. It needs to look like you.”
“You’re beautiful and you know it,” she argues. I tug her into the bedroom, and pull her shirt off.
“Let’s get you into pajamas,” I tell her. “Your favorite ones.”
“Quit spoiling me. I’m fine.”
I fold the blankets back, and she climbs in.
I get in beside her, pulling her close. Even after being at the hospital, she smells like sunshine.
“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” I tell her honestly.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide and clear. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not for a long, long time.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you called,” I tell her. “It won’t happen again.”
“Babe, it’s ok,” she says and she closes her eyes, resting in my arms. “It’s ok. Truly.”