Young Truths (Young Series) (18 page)

I laugh as we reach Samantha’s room. “Yes,” I say, sniggering. “She is.”

Tyler shakes his head as we enter and I look over to find Samantha sitting up in bed talking quietly with a nurse. She finds us and smiles widely. “Well, hello,” she says.

“I brought you a visitor,” I say, crossing towards her.

“I see that,” she replies, holding out her arms for Tyler. I gently slide Tyler onto her bed, watching closely for any discomfort. I know she won’t want him to see her in pain of any kind. “Have you been good tonight?”

I sit down at her bedside, listening with half an ear as Tyler tells her what a perfect little angel he’s been. Somehow I doubt the truth of his statement after I left the waiting room. The kid can throw a tantrum with the best of them. Meanwhile, I take the moment to really wrap my head around what’s happening here. Last July, I stood in a hospital room much like this with Samantha having a discussion about whether this baby was mine or not. I was so convinced I was about to say goodbye to her again and that thought was devastating. With only a couple words, she changed everything for me, and for us. She gave me something I never thought I would have with her or anybody ever again—happiness, a future worth looking forward to.

As much as I’ve tried to make things run smoothly for us... Well... It’s not really worth dwelling on at this point. One thing I learned from this entire situation is that what Samantha and I have can survive almost anything as long as we work together. I’m stronger with her than I am without her. We love each other completely, but that can only take us so far. At some point, we have to trust that the other person knows what they’re doing, even when we think they’re being absolutely unreasonable. The time I spent away from Samantha and Tyler in November, while utterly devastating, did a lot in making me appreciate her in a whole new light. I thought I understood how much stronger and smarter she’d become during the five years we’d been apart, but oh, was I wrong. I honestly believe the only reason she didn’t leave the state upon leaving me was because she was afraid of what might happen to Tyler if she was outside my protection. My incredibly shitty protection, as it turned out.

But I can’t think about that right now. What matters is that I was incredibly fortunate to get her back at all and now we’re here, awaiting the arrival of our daughter. Excitement and fear run through me in equal quantities. Despite the doctor’s assurances that everything is going smoothly, I don’t think I’ll believe it until it actually happens. Though looking at Samantha with Tyler curled up into her side, she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. She looks up and sends me a small, soft smile that I can’t help but return.

Tyler remains with us for a little while longer until Samantha begins to show signs that her contractions are going to begin again. She gives him a hug and kiss, and I manage to get him back to the waiting room with Claire before he really understands anything.

The contractions are coming on more closely together now and even I know that means the baby is coming soon. I do whatever I can to be helpful, whether that means lending my hand for Samantha to squeeze the life out of, feeding her ice chips, or just getting the hell out of the way. By midnight she’s completely exhausted, but every time she tries to close her eyes for more than a minute, the contractions begin again. By one in the morning, Dr. Miller has returned wearing scrubs and instructs me to get into my own set as nurses begin to set up a delivery station around Samantha’s bed. I’m trying to keep a smile on my face despite the anxiety that I can see building up on Samantha’s. She’s afraid and I have no idea how to even begin fixing it. All I can do is hold her hand and keep my own anxiety at bay.

“All right, Samantha,” Dr. Miller says brightly from between my wife’s legs. “I think it’s about time we started pushing, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Samantha replies exhaustedly, glancing at me. “Why not.”

I lean down and press a kiss to her lips. “It’s almost over,” I tell her. “Olivia will be here soon.”

That puts a genuine smile on her face. “Yeah...” she says right before a contraction hits her. This one doesn’t stop, though. Dr. Miller is telling Samantha to push and between pushes, to breathe. I follow the doctor’s lead and help her through it. I don’t even mind that she’s almost breaking my fingers with the grip she has on them.

I don’t have any idea how much time has passed. Between my words of encouragement to my wife, her screaming from effort and pain, and the doctor shouting orders to other people, I can barely focus on anything. But all that stops when a cry pierces through the rest of the noise. All I can hear is that cry and it has to be one of the most incredible sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. I look down at Samantha, wide-eyed, to find her looking back the same way. “You did it,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her deeply. The kiss is brief; we’re both a little more interested in seeing our daughter for the first time.

“Samantha and Matthew, meet Olivia.”

I think I could stare at this face for the rest of my life and never do anything else. As it is, I’ve been staring down at the little pink bundle that is my daughter since she was handed to me an hour or so ago. She’s beautiful and perfect and wonderful, and I’m amazed that she came from me.

“She’s got your ears,” Matthew says quietly, sitting on the other side of my bed so he can get a better look. “And your nose and your lips...”

I don’t know if it’s just me, but with every trait that he lists he sounds more disappointed. “But she’s got your hair already,” I point out. “Look at it.” I tug the little pink cap off Olivia’s head to reveal the shock of black hair that sticks up in every conceivable direction. “I can’t think of anything worse for a little girl to have than hair that is completely uncontrollable. And you can’t blame me for that.”

He chuckles softly, looking proud of himself. “There is that,” he murmurs. “I can’t believe she’s here.”

Smiling, I replace her cap. “You haven’t held her yet,” I suddenly remember, looking over at him. “Do you want to?”

His entire face lights up. “Yes,” he whispers eagerly. “Very much.”

Very gently, I hand her off to Matthew who looks like he’s holding the most precious thing he’s ever touched in his life. I watch as he cradles Olivia to his chest and bends his head to brush his lips across her forehead. When he looks up at me again, his eyes are watery, but he’s smiling. “Our daughter,” he whispers in awe.

With those words, I can almost see the future—that little, tiny girl is going to have him wrapped around her pinky finger, and he is going to be completely blind to anything and everything she might ever do wrong. He’s the same way with Tyler, but somehow this will be different. And I can’t even find it in myself to be the slightest bit bothered by that fact. How can I be bothered by anything when my husband is humming under his breath and gently rocking our daughter in his arms?

“Oh my God! She’s adorable!”

I groan in annoyance as voices break me out of the first decent sleep I’ve gotten in weeks. My eyes open to find my sister-in-law crossing the room towards us. “Could you maybe keep it down?” I ask grumpily. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Beside me, Matthew chuckles. “Claire doesn’t know the meaning of keep it down,” he complains. “Besides, I kept her out of here as long as I could.”

“The fact that you abandoned me with our parents all night earns me the right to be the first to see my niece,” she informs us, sitting down beside Matthew. “Aside from you two, of course.” She waves her hand dismissively, leaning over for a better look. “Can I hold her?”

“No,” Matthew says very firmly. Claire and I both look at him in surprise and he has the decency to look slightly apologetic, though he doesn’t seem at all inclined to give Olivia to anyone else.

“Sam, help me out here,” Claire begs.

Biting back my amusement, I shake my head. “Sorry. Can’t. It’s too cute.” Matthew beams at me before turning his attention back to our daughter.

Claire rolls her eyes at me, but she’s smiling as she watches them. “How’re you feeling, Sam?” she asks.

I nod. “Good,” I respond. “Tired, but good. Where’s Tyler?”

“Mom took him to my place for the night. She’ll bring him back after breakfast. We thought we’d give the three of you some time alone before the whole family invades.”

“And yet,” Matthew says dryly, glancing at his sister, “here you are.”

“You know, at some point you’re going to have to give her back to Sam,” Claire reminds him archly. “You just don’t have the parts necessary to give her everything she wants.”

Matthew sighs poutily. “I know,” he says grumpily. “I’m not looking forward to it.”

Now I’m rolling my eyes. “Matt, you can’t hold her forever.”

“Try me,” he challenges. “You had her for nine months. It’s my turn.”

“A little advice for you two,” Claire begins. “Feel free to ignore me if you want, but I feel it’s only fair to warn you. With the twins, when Abby was born, we had to give them a bit more attention than normal. The baby interested them for a little while, but when they realized our time and attention revolved around her, they weren’t happy. Gabe acted out a bit, making sure we knew without a doubt he was in the room. Olly just sort of shut himself off. Took us a while to understand what was going on. My point is Tyler has been the center of your attention all this time. Now there’s a baby involved. That kid is one of the sweetest I’ve ever met, but even sweet kids won’t necessarily react well to a new baby. Keep that in mind.”

Matthew nods. “I thought about that,” he murmurs. “I’m going to take him home this afternoon, spend the day with him.”

“Good plan,” Claire says approvingly. “So now that I’ve helped, can I hold my niece?”

I laugh when Matthew only glares at her. “Give it up, Claire,” I snicker. “Not happening right now.”

We talk quietly for a while until Olivia starts squirming. Matthew tries to calm her, but the more she squirms, the more aware I am of what she wants. “She’s hungry,” Claire informs him as I open my mouth to say just that. “Going to have to give her back to Mommy now.”

Scowling at his sister, Matthew places a sweet, delicate kiss on Olivia’s forehead and hands her back to me, not moving his hands away until he’s certain I’ve got her. He’s already in overprotective mode, which isn’t surprising, but I think I remember how to hold a baby. Still, it’s adorable to see him like this. I hiss slightly as Olivia latches onto my breast and begins her feeding, feeling slightly self-conscious as both Matthew and Claire watch me as though studying my technique. “Do you two mind?” I ask when Matthew actually leans forward to see what Olivia is doing. “I don’t really need the audience.”

Claire snorts a laugh. Matthew blushes slightly, which is such a rarity that I almost want a camera to document the moment. “Sorry,” he murmurs, sitting back down. A moment later, he’s reaching for his cell phone, sighing. “Marcus wants a word.” His tone is apologetic. “I shouldn’t be long.”

“We’ll be fine,” I promise him as he stands, leaning over me once more for a kiss. “Why don’t you get some breakfast while you’re at it? I could eat.”

Very reluctantly, Matthew leaves the room, looking over his shoulder at us every few steps. Once he’s gone, Claire starts laughing. “I’ve never seen him like this. It’s fantastic.”

“It is,” I agree. “But I can see it getting old pretty quickly.” I adjust Olivia slightly. “So when you said your parents are here...”

Claire smirks. “Surprised, are we?” she asks.

“Well, aren’t you?” I counter. “Claire, your father didn’t step one toe in the hospital when Tyler was born or in all the time he spent here. At least not when I was around. Matt was pissed; I was perfectly happy not having to deal with him.”

She sighs. “He’s been acting oddly lately,” she says quietly. “He actually had an hour-long conversation with Danny last week about God knows what. And he seemed to be genuinely enjoying it. My dad has
never
done that. I mean, he likes Danny, but never had much interest in actually talking to him.”

I avert my eyes, looking down at Olivia while Claire continues to babble. Matthew hasn’t said whether he’s brought his sister up to speed about their father’s illness—I don’t know whether he’s even actually talked to his father about it—but considering Claire hasn’t yet said anything to me, I’m assuming she has no idea about her brother’s knowledge. As much as I believe she deserves to know, I can’t be the one to tell her, not right now. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but I don’t want the birth of my daughter overshadowed by this. “I’m glad he’s here,” I say quietly. ‘I know he and I haven’t had the friendliest of relationships, but for Matt’s sake, I’m glad he’s here.”

Claire gives me a small, sad smile. “Me, too,” she whispers.

Olivia finally has her fill and decides it’s naptime again. I look at Claire. “Do you want to hold her?” I ask.

She huffs a quiet laugh. “I’m not sure Matt would approve,” she teases wryly.

I raise an eyebrow. “Matt’s not here,” I remind her.

She grins mischievously. “Well, when you put it like that...” Laughing quietly, I hand over my daughter to Claire watching as yet another person falls in love with her. “She really is beautiful, Sam. You guys done good.”

“Thank you,” I say. “I don’t think we told you her full name.” Claire looks up in question. I smile. “Olivia Claire Young.”

For the first time, I think I’ve actually surprised her into speechlessness. Her mouth is slightly open and she’s watching me in disbelief. “Really?” she asks.

I nod. “You’ve been our biggest advocate through all of this,” I explain. “Taking care of me and of Matthew and our son. Making sure we didn’t do anything stupid. Reminding us over and over about what’s important. I don’t think he and I would be here together if not for you. So I guess this is our way of saying thank you.”

She blinks a few times, possibly trying to hold back tears. “You’re welcome,” she breathes, looking back down at Olivia. After a few minutes of silence, Claire looks back up at me, grinning. “Enough of this gushy, girly shit.” I snort a laugh. “When are we going to start talking baby number three?”

I locate Marcus in the waiting room and he’s already got an apologetic expression on his face that makes me think I should have just ignored his text message.

“Sorry to take you away from your family,” he says, “but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“If it’s bad news, get it out now,” I reply wearily.

He raises an eyebrow, an amused smile on his lips. “Why do you always assume I have bad news for you?” he asks rhetorically. “I just wanted to see how everyone’s doing.”

I smile apologetically. “Everyone’s good. My daughter is gorgeous, my wife is exhausted, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Glad to hear it,” he says sincerely. “So I was talking to my wife last night and we know the room you set up for your daughter in your house is useless right now, and as far as I know, you haven’t had the chance to get a room in the apartment ready for her. We’ve still got all the stuff from when our daughter was born—crib, room decorations, stuff like that... We’d like you and Samantha to have it. At least until you get stuff of your own.”

I stare at him in surprise. “Wow,” I say. “Thank you, Marcus. Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replies gruffly. “I’ll have a couple guys bring everything over later if you want.”

As I begin to reply, a throat clears behind me and I turn to find two men dressed in suits have joined us. “Matthew Young?” the younger of the two asks.

“Who’s asking?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m Detective Sedler,” he replies, “and this is Detective Watts. We wondered if we could have a word with you.”

Beside me, I feel Marcus tense up as the two detectives flash their badges at us; it doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t introduce himself. “May I ask what this is regarding?” I say. As far as I know, all the trouble I’ve landed myself and my family in recently is being handled by federal authorities. Even the fire at the house has been passed on from the locals.

“Mr. Young, are you acquainted with a woman named Lucy Boyd?” asks Detective Watts.

I’m immediately on high alert. Of all the things this could have been about, Lucy didn’t even register on the list. “I am,” I say carefully.

“How are you acquainted with her?”

“What’s this regarding?” Marcus asks suddenly, coldly.

The detectives look at him as though they’re seeing him for the first time. “And you are?” Sedler asks condescendingly.

“Agent Marcus West,” he replies, showing them his badge. “FBI.”

Sedler swallows hard, his expression uncomfortable as his eyes dart to his partner. “No offense, Agent,” Watts says, his own expression unflappable. “But this isn’t your jurisdiction or a federal matter.”

“
He’s
my jurisdiction,” Marcus replies, jerking his head towards me. I swallow a smirk and a laugh. “So if you would kindly state your reason for interrogating Mr. Young, it would be appreciated. He’d like to get back to his family.”

Watts is clearly annoyed. “Yes, I understand your wife just gave birth. Boy or girl?”

“Girl,” I say tightly.

“Congratulations. We’ll make this as quick and painless as we can. We’re investigating a missing person’s case,” Watts says. “Miss Boyd was reported missing three days ago by friends and family. Upon investigation of her phone records, we discovered that you, Mr. Young, were the last call she made as well as the last person to call her. I’m sure you can imagine why we’d like to talk to you.”

Lucy’s missing? You’ve got to be kidding me. As the detective’s words sink in, another question pops into my mind. Lucy’s been missing at least three days. Unless I’ve lost more time than I think, I placed my call to her two days ago right after she called me the last time.

“So how do you know Miss Boyd, Mr. Young?” Sedler asks.

I glance at Marcus who gives me a minute nod, signaling that I should answer the question. “We met in college,” I say quietly. “We dated a few years and broke up. I haven’t had much contact with her over the years, but she works for my father.”