My Gift To You

by Tracie Delaney

  “Oh God.” Her voice choked as Dr. Wilson held up a tiny, honest-to-goodness person with a mop of dark hair and a hell of a set of lungs.

  “Congratulations, Livvy, Gabe. You have a perfectly healthy little girl. We’ll get her cleaned up, and then you can hold her.”

  Livvy burst into tears.

  Gabe leaned over her and buried his head in her neck. His arms curved around her as he hugged her tightly. When he pulled back, his eyes were glistening. “She’s perfect. Just like you.”

  Livvy clung to him as words failed her. She’d done it. Finally. After so much heartache, she’d finally brought a life into the world. At times, she’d believed that she was cursed, but no longer. Gabe had rescued her, and now he’d given her what she’d always craved—a baby.

  “Thank you,” she managed to croak.

  Gabe kissed the top of her head. “No, thank you. I love you, Liv. So very much.”

  A few minutes later, Dr. Wilson appeared around the screen with their daughter wrapped in a green sheet, her head covered. “Here she is. Ten fingers and ten toes. Six pounds, one ounce. I’ll leave you three to get acquainted while we stitch you up. You can nurse her if you feel up to it.” And without a moment of further delay, Dr. Wilson placed the tiny baby on Livvy’s chest.

  Her arms automatically closed around her daughter, and she placed a soft kiss on her forehead. As an intense peace settled over her, and she stiffened her resolve to fight the cancer with everything she had.

  “How do you feel?” she asked as her gaze settled on Gabe’s mesmerized expression.

  “Ecstatic.” He bent to plant his own kiss on his daughter’s soft cheek as Livvy steeled herself to say what she knew had to be said. He wasn’t going to like it.

  “If anything happens to me—”

  “No, Livvy.” Gabe’s tone brooked no argument. He even held his palm up for added emphasis.

  “Listen.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Listen to me.”

  He shook his head. “We’re not doing this. Not now. Not ever. You’ve just given birth to our daughter.”

  “Gabe, please.”

  A tear spilled down his cheek, and he shook his head again, this time violently. “I can’t, Liv.” His voice cracked. “Please don’t ask me to. Not now.”

  An intense pain speared through her chest, stealing her breath. To feel her own fear was one thing, but to see his, so raw and honest, was quite another. The conversation would have to be had, because if things didn’t go well, plans would need to be made. But for now at least, she would push aside the upcoming horror and simply let the happiness soak into her bones.

  “Okay,” she said softly. Gabe rewarded her with a soft brush of his lips against hers.

  After the doctor stitched her wound, an orderly took her up to her room, and a nurse brought the baby along in an incubator. Even though she’d given birth four weeks early, her daughter needed no medical intervention. The steroids the doctor had administered to speed up the forming of her baby’s lungs had worked as they should.

  As she and Gabe arrived back at her room, Heather and Ches greeted them, their faces wide with smiles.

  “Well?” Heather asked as Livvy was pushed inside on a gurney.

  “A girl.” The pride in Gabe’s voice couldn’t be missed.

  Heather clasped her hand to her chest, and Ches let out a whoop, but as they both crowded over the incubator, Livvy could swear Gabe growled. She gave him a sympathetic glance and squeezed his hand.

  “Oh, Liv. She’s gorgeous,” Ches said. And then as she looked between Livvy and Gabe, she chuckled. “Although, look at the gene pool she comes from. The kid had to be a stunner.”

  Gabe chuckled. “That’s all Livvy,” he said as he threw an arm around his mother’s shoulders and kissed her temple as tears streamed down her face.

  “And how are you, sweet pea?” Heather choked out through her tears as her gaze fell on Livvy.

  “I’m fine.” Livvy beckoned her mother-in-law over and patted the bed. “Want to hold her, Grandma?”

  Heather nodded vigorously. Gabe lifted their baby girl in his arms and—Livvy could tell—reluctantly handed her over. She repressed a giggle. Clearly, her husband was going to have a problem letting anyone touch their daughter.

  “So, what are you going to call her?” Ches asked. “I can see her tag says Baby Mitchell, but you can’t leave her like that for long.”

  Livvy glanced at Gabe, and he nodded at her, happy for her to introduce their daughter.

  “Meet Sophia Annabel Heather Mitchell. I know it’s a mouthful, but we wanted to get my mum’s name in there too.”

  Gabe’s mum sucked in a sharp breath, and more tears fell. “Your sister would be so happy.”

  “It was Livvy’s idea.”

  Heather clasped Livvy’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you with all my heart.”

  Livvy smiled and allowed her head to fall back against the pillow. Exhausted, she closed her eyes while listening to Gabe, Heather, and Ches talk excitedly. Not for the first time, relief that Gabe and Ches got on so well swept over her. If anything happened to her, Gabe would need Ches and she would need him.

  “We should let Livvy get some rest.” Gabe’s voice reached her through her sleep-deprived haze.

  “No,” Livvy mumbled. “I like hearing your voices. Please stay, all of you.”

  “Okay, darlin’.”

  Gabe’s voice was the last she heard before sleep claimed her.

  Livvy woke the following morning and, for the briefest of moments, couldn’t remember where she was. Then her memory came rushing back. She went to sit up, but a sharp pain across her stomach reminded her of the operation. The pain meds must have worn off.

  With a struggle, she managed to ease into a half-sitting position. Her eyes scanned the room. Gabe was sleeping in what looked like a very uncomfortable chair, his head resting on the palm of his hand. Ches and Heather were nowhere to be seen. He must have sent them home after she crashed.

  Her eyes fell on her daughter, fast asleep in the crib, her chest going up and down at quite a rate. Her plump cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut. A rush of love raced through her, so intense that Livvy found it difficult to catch her breath. Then horror clutched at her chest. She hadn’t fed her baby since the previous day.

  “Gabe,” Livvy said urgently. “Wake up.”

  He woke with a start, his eyes wide with concern. “Liv, what is it? Is everything okay?”

  “I haven’t fed the baby since yesterday,” she said, panic leaching into her tone. “I’m a terrible mother. She must be starving. Why isn’t she crying?”

  A smile crept across his face, and he eased out of the chair. “Calm down, Livvy. I wanted you to rest so I hired a nurse to help. Sophia has had all of her regular feeds.”

  She clamped her lips into a thin line. She accepted that her baby wouldn’t be able to be breast fed all the time, especially with Livvy’s upcoming treatment, but she wanted to administer the feeds, whatever form they took. “I don’t want a nurse feeding my baby. I’m her mother.”

  Gabe sat on the edge of her bed and took her hands in his. “Liv, we’ll need the help when you…” His voice faded, and a flash of pain crossed his face before he put his mask back in place.

  As her baby stirred, she nodded at the crib. “Can you bring her to me? I can’t get out of bed,” she said, ignoring his comment.

  Gabe nodded and crept over to the crib. Sophia grumbled as he lifted her into his arms. He cradled her close to his chest, his eyes full of love and wonderment. Livvy’s heart constricted as she watched them together. Thank God for Gabe. At least Sophia wouldn’t be short on love when Livvy couldn’t give her as much attention in the coming weeks and months.

  As he placed Sophia in Livvy’s arms, a rush of love almost overwhelmed her. Tears welled in her eyes as Sophia woke up, her mouth opening into a wide yawn. Whatever happened to Livvy, no one would ever convince her that she’d made the wrong de
cision by choosing this precious life over her own.

  No one.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Gabe, talk to me.”

  Livvy set firm eyes on her husband, who refused to meet her gaze. The day of her mastectomy operation had finally arrived. As it had crept ever closer, Gabe had become more and more withdrawn, refusing to discuss his thoughts and feelings. She could feel him pulling away from her, which she could understand—to a point. In his shoes, she may have created some distance so that if the worst happened, it might make things easier. But what worried her more was that he was also pulling away from Sophia. He was still doing everything a doting father should—feeding her, changing her, playing with her—but he acted almost like he’d been with Livvy before the birth. Everything felt too clinical. The closeness was missing.

  “What about?” he asked in a too-bright tone. “Here, give her to me while you check that you’ve got everything you need.” He held his arms out for the baby, and with a resigned sigh, Livvy handed Sophia to him.

  She watched from the corner of her eye as he cradled their four-week-old daughter in his arms. He hummed softly under his breath and held out his pinky, which Sophia dutifully sucked into her mouth. To the outside world, they must have looked like the perfect family, but in reality, that was not the case. Livvy might as well have been fighting two battles: one with the cancer quietly stealing through her body, and the other with a husband who was gradually slipping away.

  Livvy closed her bag and clipped the locks in place. She picked it up, shaking her head at Gabe’s offer of help, and quietly left their bedroom.

  She dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs, wandered into the kitchen, and slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar. She couldn’t stop herself from expelling a heavy sigh.

  “You okay, darlin’?” Heather asked as she heated up a bottle of expressed milk for Sophia—the last breast milk Livvy would ever be able to provide for her daughter. Sorrow swept through her, and she clutched a hand to her chest while giving Heather a warm smile. Her mother-in-law didn’t need to witness Livvy’s sadness right at that moment.

  “Keen to get it over with now.”

  Heather nodded sagely. She placed the bottle of milk on the counter and sat down beside Livvy. “She’s in safe hands with me,” Heather said, squeezing Livvy’s hand.

  “It’s not Sophia that I’m worried about.”

  Heather frowned, but before she could say anything more, Gabe came into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.” He smiled at his mother in a way that he didn’t smile at Livvy these days.

  “Darlin’.” His mom held out her arms and hugged him tightly. “Where’s my grandbaby?”

  Gabe jerked his head towards the stairs. “Asleep in our room.”

  “That’s good. Now, you two, remember you don’t have to worry about a thing.” She turned to Livvy, pulled her into a warm hug, and whispered in her ear. “Get through the next couple of days, and then we’ll talk.” Then louder, for Gabe’s benefit, she said, “Sophia will be just fine here with me.”

  Livvy nodded as her face became tight and her vision clouded. “I know she will.” Her voice was thick with emotion.

  Gabe picked up Livvy’s bag and took hold of her hand. He squeezed, although the affectionate touch didn’t soothe her ravaged heart.

  “Call me later,” Heather said.

  Gabe nodded and silently guided Livvy outside and towards her fate. There was no going back.

  “I’m going to give Ches a call,” Livvy said once she was settled into bed in her private hospital room. “I promised I’d call her before the operation. She’s still feeling bad about having to go back to work, and I want to reassure her.”

  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” Gabe said, wondering where his reassurance was.

  Livvy gave him a warm smile. “Why don’t you go and grab me a glass of water?” The message that she wanted to be alone was clear, especially as she wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything before her surgery.

  Gabe tried to ignore the crushing pain in his chest, but it was becoming harder and harder. He felt as though he were losing Livvy, and the closeness they’d shared in the couple of days following Sophia’s birth had disappeared. He knew he was the one creating the distance, but somehow, his terror of losing her had manifested in him retreating into himself—and withdrawing from Sophia and Livvy in the process.

  He wandered down the hall and found himself in the hospital cafeteria without remembering the journey there. He grabbed an extra-shot coffee and sat down by the window. California was having a rare downpour, and as the rain lashed against the panes of glass, Gabe couldn’t help but wonder if the bad weather was an equally bad omen.

  “Hello, Gabe. Mind if I join you?”

  His head snapped up to find Dr. Wilson pulling out the chair opposite.

  “Dr. Wilson. Of course not. What are you doing here?”

  With a weary sigh, she flopped into the chair and dropped her paper coffee cup on the table. “Visiting my father-in-law. He’s had triple-bypass surgery.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I hope he’s going to be okay.”

  She shrugged. “Me too. So how are you holding up?”

  Gabe rubbed a hand across his face. “I’ve had better days.”

  She nodded in understanding. “I heard that today was Livvy’s operation. How’s she doing?”

  He shrugged. “Better than me.”

  Dr. Wilson frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He sighed. “I’m so scared.” He wondered why it was easy to say those words to a doctor but not to his wife.

  Dr. Wilson sat back in her chair and wiped a napkin over her lips. “Those are normal feelings, Gabe.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and winced. Too bitter. He shouldn’t have had the extra shot. He put the cup on the table and pushed it away. “Doesn’t make it any easier to cope with.”

  The doctor patted his hand. “Hang in there. If you need to talk, I can recommend someone.”

  “I’m my father’s son,” he said. “We Mitchells have never found it easy to share our feelings with strangers.”

  “Well, if you find your inner Californian, give me a call.”

  His answering laugh sounded strange to his ears. He certainly hadn’t had much to laugh about recently. He left Dr. Wilson to finish her coffee and went back to Livvy’s room. She’d finished her phone call and was lying back, her head propped up against the pillows.

  As she spotted him, she gave him a bright smile. “Where’s my water?”

  Gabe forced a smile. “You could have told me to go, that you wanted to talk to Ches in private.”

  “Busted.” She laughed, and despite his inner turmoil, Gabe joined in, his spirits momentarily lifted.

  “How is she?”

  “Worried about me and, as I suspected, feeling guilty because she can’t be here. Honestly, between her and John, they’re like a pair of mother hens. I told her I was fine. I’ve got you—right?”

  He sat down on the side of her bed and swept a lock of hair away from her forehead. “You do.”

  She captured his fingers and pressed his palm against her cheek. Gabe reveled in the rare moment of intimacy even though it was his fault they didn’t have more loving moments. He leaned forward until his lips were close to hers. She raised herself up and kissed him, lovingly rather than passionately, but considering she was about to go in for major surgery, it was hardly surprising. Even so, his stomach clenched, and his breathing quickened.

  As they broke apart, the door opened, and an orderly pushed in a gurney. Dr. Anderson followed a moment later.

  “Ready, Livvy?” the doctor asked.

  Livvy set her jaw and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Livvy? Can you hear me? Open your eyes now. Come on.”

  “Go away,” Livvy mumbled. “Need sleep.”

  “You can sleep as soon as you’ve opened your eyes for me. Come on, sweetie. You’re in recove
ry, and it’s all over. Now open your eyes, hon.”

  All over? What’s all over? The baby? No, she’d had the baby. Precious Sophia. Where was she?

  “Baby, where’s baby?” On some level, she knew she wasn’t making any sense but couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences. What was wrong with her? Briefly, her eyes flickered open to find a nurse peering at her.

  “Your baby’s fine, Livvy. You’ve had your operation. All went well.”

  “Want to sleep,” she muttered.

  “That’s fine. You’ll wake up in bed soon, sweetie.”

  Livvy’s last thought was that she wished the nurse wouldn’t call her sweetie. It sounded too much like “sweet pea,” and only Heather was allowed to give her that endearment.

  “Liv?”

  Her eyes flickered again, but this time, her surroundings were different. The walls were a pale pink instead of stark white. She groaned and closed her eyes again. Everything hurt, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

  “Are you in pain?”

  She tried to focus on the voice that was concerned, loving. Familiar.

  Despite the weights, which must have been glued to her eyelashes, Livvy forced her lids open. She licked her lips, and as a straw pressed against them, she sucked greedily. The water soothed her sore throat.

  Her head fell back against the soft pillows, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

  “Is she okay?” The voice was sharper now, demanding and dominant. Gabe. Her fuzzy brain began to clear in parts. She tried to speak, to tell him she was fine, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

  “Yes, Mr. Mitchell. She just needs time to wake up from the anesthetic.”

  “Can I speak with Dr. Anderson?”

  “Of course. She’ll be here shortly.”

  Livvy swallowed and tried again. “Gabe.” Her voice sounded weird, scratchy, and quite deep, very unlike her. But it had the desired effect because Gabe’s face swam into her sightline.

  “You okay, darlin’? What do you need?”