Young Truths (Young Series) (17 page)

Marcus snorts a laugh, taking his cup, and I glare at both of them.

Claire sits down beside me while Tyler picks a spot on the floor to eat his ice cream and play with his apparently newly acquired coloring book and crayons. “Any news?” she asks quietly.

“No,” I say just as quietly.

“Not to take away from the seriousness of the current situation,” Marcus begins, “but can you tell me again how this Doctor Reilly knew Samantha was in labor?”

I’ve been trying not to think about that, to be honest. “I don’t know,” I answer. “But as suspicious as I am, I’m also relieved he did. Tyler and I were at Young Technologies; I don’t know how long I would have stayed if he hadn’t called me.”

“Hmm.” Marcus leans back in his chair, arms crossed as he considers my words.

Claire looks between us. “You can’t seriously think Mark did something to her,” she says, half-laughing.

Marcus shoots her a glance. “Not necessarily,” he says quietly. “But the timing’s a little odd.”

“Can we discuss this another time, please?” I snap at them. They murmur apologies and we fall into silence again until a knock on the door takes us back to reality.

Mark enters and I’m immediately on my feet. “Good news,” he says before I can even open my mouth. “Samantha and the baby are stabilized. They’re moving her to a different room, then you can go in and see her, Matt.”

I could so easily fall to my knees in relief. Somehow I refrain. “Thank you,” I say sincerely.

He smiles. “Not a problem. Come on, I’ll show you to her room.”

I nod, glancing over to where Tyler is climbing to his feet as well. “I want to go with you,” he tells me.

I sigh. “I know you do,” I reply. “But for now I need you to stay with Aunt Claire, okay?”

“I want to see Mom,” he insists stubbornly. I wouldn’t be surprised to see him stomp is foot any second now.

“You will,” I promise. “Soon. Let me go first, though, and I’ll come back for you.” Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem pleased by my suggestion, but he huffs a sigh and goes to sit by Claire. I smile sadly at him. “I’ll try not to be long...”

Once out of the waiting room, I follow Mark closely down a hallway towards a private suite. “She’s pretty tired,” Mark warns me, “but she’s conscious. They were worried that they might have to induce if they couldn’t get things under control.”

“Did something cause this?” I ask.

Mark shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he answers. “Aside from an impatient little girl wanting to get a jump on life... I know I’m not Samantha’s doctor, but what little I do know about her pregnancy, she’s done everything right. It could have been a simple matter of the baby pressing on something at the wrong angle.”

I nod again, uncertain how to respond as we reach the room.

“I should go call Bonnie,” Mark says as I push the door open. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I say distractedly, walking through the door and immediately finding my wife in bed, her eyes closed. For the moment, we’re alone, but I don’t imagine this will last long. I cross the room to her and gently push her hair off her forehead.

A small smile crosses her lips as her eyes blink open. “About time you got here,” she grumbles.

I chuckle, leaning down to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” I respond. “I tried to force my way in here, but I assumed you’d prefer that I wasn’t in jail right now.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, the corner of her lips twitching up. “You assume correctly.” She sits up a little, wincing at the movement. “Where’s Ty?”

“Waiting room with Claire and Marcus,” I say, sitting down beside her. “More importantly, how are you?”

She yawns. “Exhausted. Sore. Ready for this to be over.”

I press her fingers to my lips, trying not to laugh. “I can imagine,” I say sympathetically. “Can I get you anything?”

She shakes her head, wincing. “Do they know what happened?” she asks after a few moments. “All I remember is being on the phone with Mark and waking up in here with doctors and nurses crowding me and telling me I’m going into labor.”

My eyebrows shoot up at the realization that she apparently doesn’t remember talking to me. “All I know is what Mark told me,” I murmur, holding her fingers against my lips. “Your blood pressure was dangerously low. Apparently you were losing some blood. I’ve been here for,” I check my watch, blinking in surprise, “nearly two hours and this is the first time I’ve been allowed in to see you.” I swallow hard. “You scared the hell out of me.”

She smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” I reply. “I’m just glad I’m here now.”

“Me, too.” We smile briefly at each other before her face contorts in pain and she squeezes my fingers to the point I think she might actually break them. Wisely, I keep quiet, knowing my pain is probably nothing compared to hers. Once her contraction ends, she releases my fingers, breathing deeply. “Should I see if there’s something they can give you for that?”

She grins slightly. “Sorry. I think this is normal.”

It doesn’t escape me that even though this is the second child she’s given birth to, she still has no idea what is considered normal for this situation. With Tyler, she was unconscious almost from the moment Claire and Bonnie called for an ambulance when they noticed she was bleeding to right before my arrival at the hospital. Nothing about Tyler’s birth was normal and though I’m not a religious man, I’m inwardly saying prayers to any deity that might be listening that Olivia’s birth goes more smoothly.

Behind us the door opens and Dr. Miller enters, smiling at us. “And here I thought I wouldn’t see you until next week at the earliest,” she comments, crossing the room to stand on Samantha’s other side. “Always a surprise with you two.”

“If it’s any consolation,” I say dryly, “it’s usually a surprise for us, too.”

Dr. Miller laughs while Samantha playfully smacks me in the arm. “Well, from what I understand, you both had a bit of a scare this afternoon. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get here. My niece is graduating high school and her mother is going through a mid-life crisis.” We smile politely and I’m just thankful for her attempt at keeping Samantha calm. “Anyway, let’s have a look at you, Samantha. How are you feeling?”

I listen with half an ear as Samantha and the doctor talk and I watch as my wife’s vitals are taken. Dr. Miller estimates another couple hours before Samantha will be in full-on labor. In the meantime, she’s told to get some rest. Those words seem to work like magic as Samantha’s eyes begin to close.

Dr. Miller chuckles softly. “At least she’s following orders,” she says wryly to me.

“How is she? Really?” I ask.

“She’s fine,” the doctor says soothingly. “Really. The episode earlier this afternoon did worry me briefly and I’d be much more concerned if the doctors here hadn’t been able to get her stabilized, but I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her in the next several hours, and unless she and the baby show further signs of distress, I see no reason why this delivery won’t be straight forward.”

I nod and sigh in relief. “Thank you,” I say quietly.

She smiles. “You’re welcome.” She glances briefly at Samantha. “I imagine she’ll be out for a little while if you wanted to go update your family.”

I jump slightly, having completely forgotten there are people here waiting on word and probably a very impatient little boy wanting to see his mother. “Right...” I say, standing. “Our son is here and he wants to see Sam. Would that be okay?”

Nodding, Dr, Miller. “I don’t see why not. I would recommend that you keep it brief, though; young children don’t normally react well to seeing their mothers during contractions.”

After placing a kiss on Samantha’s forehead and whispering a promise of my quick return, I head back towards the waiting room. When I open the door, I grin to myself; the number of Samantha’s visitors has grown. Bonnie is sitting with Claire and my mother, and very much to my surprise, my father and Marcus are talking quietly together. Tyler is fast asleep in a chair, cuddling his stuffed penguin Pablo. Everyone looks up when I enter and I give them a quick rundown of events. Samantha and the baby are fine. The doctors expect to begin delivery in a few hours. I kneel down next to my son, removing my jacket and covering him with it.

“He only calmed down when I promised he’d get to see Samantha soon,” Claire tells me. “So you might want to be ready for that.”

I chuckle. “Soon as he wakes up,” I assure her.

“Mom, Bonnie, and I were going to head to the apartment for Sam’s hospital bag. Do you need anything else?”

I shake my head. “No. Though I’m sure Bandit wouldn’t protest to a walk before you come back.”

My mother stands and crosses over to me. “Think nothing of it,” she says, leaning up to kiss my cheek. “We’ll take care of it.”

Once they’re gone, I collapse in a chair beside my father, running my hands across my face. He chuckles and pats my knee. “Nervous father,” he murmurs knowingly. “The one time we men are allowed to feel helpless.”

I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve had enough feeling helpless lately,” I say evenly. “I think I’m going to pretend there’s something I can do now if you don’t mind.”

Marcus snorts a laugh. “Good luck with that one,” he mutters.

“I remember the day you were born, Matt,” my father says. I sit up and look at him curiously. Not only is it not like him to sit around a hospital with anybody, he never just begins reminiscing out of nowhere. “We’d already been through it twice with Holly and Elizabeth, but it was new every time. I don’t know if your mother ever told you, but you were about a month and a half early. Never been so scared in my life and that’s saying something considering the things I’ve seen. But then there you were and the set of lungs you had...” He whistles, impressed, making Marcus and me laugh. “There was no mistaking your arrival. I’d held my daughters in my arms, but it was different with you. You were my boy, my son. And you grabbed onto my finger and you held on like you’d never let go...” He smiles fondly at the memory. “I had all these ideas and notions of what you’d be when you got older and as it turns out, none of them apply to you. But that’s okay. You’re a better man than I ever imagined you’d be. I might not have been there for you as much as I should have when you were growing up, but I always thought about you. It took me so long to realize I couldn’t force you to be someone you weren’t. I’m proud of you, though, son. Very proud. And I’m just glad I’m here to meet your daughter.”

I’m speechless and I vaguely register a sniff from Marcus’s direction. I try repeatedly to clear the lump from my throat—I don’t know whether it’s the stress from the day or the excitement of my daughter soon being born, but my eyes are watery and I fear the moment I open my mouth, I’ll turn into a crying mess in my father’s arms, which would undoubtedly force him to retract his words. At some point, Marcus stands and excuses himself to make a phone call, leaving me alone with my father.

“Anyway, enough with the sentimental crap,” he says, thumping me on my back. “Think we could get away with lighting a few cigars?”

I look at him in amusement. “Apart from my preference to actually be here when my daughter is born rather than in jail, I’m pretty sure I don’t smoke,” I remind him. I bite my lip against the comment that no one in his condition should be smoking either, but aside from the fact that he doesn’t know I know what’s wrong with him, I know his response will be something along the lines of already having cancer so a cigar isn’t going to do anymore damage.

He waves that off. “Later, then.”

We sit in silence for a few moments until the door opens. Mark is back. I immediately get to my feet to make introductions, apparently surprising Reilly. “Dad, this is Doctor Mark Reilly, Bonnie’s nephew,” I inwardly curl my lip, “and Samantha’s friend. Mark, my father Paul Young.”

The two shake hands. “Samantha’s awake,” Mark tells me. “I just popped in to check on her. She’s asking for you.”

I bristle at the fact that he’s taking it upon himself to check on my wife. Doctor or not, he’s definitely starting to cross a line in my book. “Right,” I say tightly. “Thanks.” I kneel down to gently shake Tyler awake. I imagine someone will suggest taking him home if we’re here much longer, so I want him to have the chance to see his mother now. “Hey, bud,” I say quietly when his eyes blink open. “Wanna go see Mom?”

He nods and yawns. “Can we go now?”

I smile. “Of course,” I say, picking him up and standing, before turning towards my father. “We’ll be back shortly.”

Dad nods, smiling. “Take your time,” he says quietly.

Tyler rests his head on my shoulder, clearly still sleepy. “Is Mom okay?” he asks.

“She’ll be fine,” I promise him. “The baby is coming soon.”

This seems to perk him up a bit. “Really?” he says excitedly. “Where is she?”

My steps falter slightly. I’ve already had one incredibly awkward conversation with him about where babies come from; I’m not sure I can handle another, especially right now. “Remember our conversation about the baby being in Mom’s belly?” I ask hopefully.

Tyler pulls away from me and gives me an incredulous look. “She’s
still
in there?” he asks disbelievingly.