“I took a taxi.”
A taxi. Spencer wanted to scream. But what good would that do now? So he kept the conversation light. “Has the doctor been in?”
“I met his partner. Oh, no. Oh, God. Here comes another one.”
Spencer slammed on his brakes and laid on his horn as a car came to short stop in front of him. “Idiot,” he yelled.
“What?”
“Not you, honey. Bad driver.” He steered around the car, sped up then stopped again, absolutely hating city traffic, even though White Plains traffic was much better than New York City traffic. “A few more minutes.”
The sound of Krissy breathing through the contraction, exactly as he’d demonstrated earlier, came through his car speakers, making him so proud of her. Would this red light ever turn green? When it did he peeled out again, driving up the hill, weaving in and out of traffic. “I can see the hospital.”
“Something’s happening,” Krissy yelled. “I have to push.”
“Don’t push,” Spencer said at the same time a female voice, he assumed the nurse in the room with her, said the same thing. He made a sharp right then sped to the parking garage. “Breathe.” He got his ticket then screeched into the structure to look for a spot. “Hang on, honey. I’m almost there.”
“I’m. Not. Waiting,” she said, her voice strained.
Spencer heard a male voice.
“I have to—” A loud thud cut off Krissy’s words.
“Krissy? Krissy! What happened?”
All he heard were muted sounds.
The next few minutes passed in a blur of stressful, heart pounding activity. Somehow Spencer managed to make it to Krissy’s room before J.J. entered the world, an event he felt obligated to attend, for Krissy as much as for Jarrod.
“That’s it.” A male doctor, mid-fifties or early sixties, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, stood at the foot of the bed, looking down between Krissy’s legs. “Keep pushing. I see the head. Push, push, push, push.”
Spencer’s heart started to pound for a different reason. This was really happening. Krissy was about to give birth to Jarrod’s son, to Spencer’s godson. The magnitude of this moment stopped him in his tracks.
“Come on, Dad,” one of the nurses said. “Wash your hands then come hold her leg.”
Spencer rushed to the sink without taking the time to clarify his role in all this.
He noticed Krissy didn’t correct her either. Considering she was mid-contraction, she no doubt had a lot of other stuff on her mind. An intravenous ran into Krissy’s right arm and an oxygen mask hung loosely around her neck. A nurse blotted sweat from her brow, something Spencer should be doing so he dried his hands, hurried to the bed, and took over for the nurse closest to him.
“Push, push, push, push,” the nurse holding the other leg said.
“Come on, Krissy. You can do this,” Spencer said, noticing a high school picture of him and Jarrod on the rolling table beside the bed. Had that been the item she’d chosen as her focal point?
Krissy strained and pushed.
“The head is out,” the doctor said. “Stop pushing.”
Spencer fought the urge to look, it just didn’t feel right to be looking down there.
“I need to be done,” Krissy said.
“Hey. Eyes on me,” Spencer said. When her eyes met his, he said, “You’re almost done. Breathe like this.” He demonstrated.
She stared at his mouth and followed his lead. So focused. Absolutely amazing.
“Oh, God,” she looked away. “Here comes another one.”
“Give me a good push,” the doctor said. “Hard as you can.”
Krissy looked exhausted, but determined as she pushed harder than he’d ever seen a woman push in his life.
“You’re doing it.” The doctor tilted the baby and his little face came into Spencer’s view, followed by his tiny body.
Unbelievable.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor said, placing little J.J. on paper toweling the nurse had spread on Krissy’s belly.
“It’s a boy,” Krissy repeated, still breathing heavily, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I did it.” She reached out protectively to hold J.J. steady as he cried.
“You did it.” Spencer bent down to kiss her forehead. “Jarrod would have been so proud.” Jarrod. The best friend he’d ever had. Jarrod, who should be here experiencing the birth of his son. This was Jarrod’s dream, not Spencer’s.
But Jarrod was dead.
“Want to cut the cord?” The doctor held out a pair of scissors.
With an uncomfortable hollow feeling in his gut, Spencer did what was expected of him.
An hour later, after giving Krissy privacy to clean up and breastfeed J.J. for the first time, Spencer returned to her room to find the curtain drawn around her bed.
“Oh, Krissy. He’s beautiful.”
He’s handsome, Spencer thought, recognizing Kira’s voice. Men are handsome, women are beautiful.
“I can’t believe he’s finally here,” Krissy said, sounding tired but happy. “Mommy’s going to take such good care of you,” Krissy said in that voice adults used when speaking to babies.
Would she take good care of him? Or would she fall into her old party-girl ways? Time would tell.
“When you get bigger,” Krissy went on. “I’ll sign you up for karate classes and soccer, just like your daddy used to take.”
His daddy, who wasn’t Spencer.
“But only if you want to.” Her grown up voice came back. “I’m not going to force him into anything just because Jarrod liked to do it.” After a brief silence, Krissy said, “What?”
“You’re going to be a great mother, just like Mom was,” Kira said.
“I hope so.”
Spencer hoped so, too.
Through the curtain he heard J.J. start to fuss.
“Look at that face,” Krissy said. “I know it makes no sense, and you’re going to think I’m insane, but J.J. reminds me of Jarrod already. He makes me feel...I don’t know. Having him here is...comforting. It’s like a void within me has somehow been filled.” She sniffled.
“Ah, honey,” Kira said.
If Spencer could see through the curtain he’d bet Krissy and Kira were hugging.
“It makes complete sense,” Kira said. “You and Jarrod were so close. I’m sure you miss him very much.”
“Every day. I’ll see something, hear something, or inhale a certain scent and I think of him.”
Same thing happened to Spencer.
“I’ll make sure Jarrod is never forgotten,” Krissy said. “J.J. will know his daddy, he will always be his father’s son, no matter what.”
Spencer felt like an unnecessary outsider, an intruder, rudely eavesdropping. He should go. But there were a few things he needed to check on first. How was Krissy getting home from the hospital? Did she have everything she needed for the baby, a safe, new car seat? Diapers? Wipes? Clothes?
After something that sounded like a yawn, Krissy said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m going to head to the nursery. Derrick had another newborn to visit. He should be about done. Here, let me take the baby with me. You need to rest.”
Shoot, Derrick was here too? Spencer looked over his shoulder, debated the best course of action to keep from getting caught, briefly considered leaving and coming back in.
But Krissy’s voice stopped him. “Derrick will do the circumcision in the morning?”
Number two on Spencer’s list.
“Yes,” Kira said. “Very early. Before office hours. Do you know when you and J.J. will be released?”
“I’m not sure. Probably sometime tomorrow morning.”
“Call me,” Kira said.
“But—”<
br />
Or she could call Spencer. He’d work it out so he could bring her home.
“Call me,” Kira said again. “When you call, I’ll come. I want to.”
“Thank you. Here.” Something jingled. “Take my keys. The car seat is in a box in the trunk.”
Number one on Spencer’s list, because he hadn’t seen a car seat in her car or her apartment. Yeah, he’d checked. Jarrod would have wanted him to.
“Do you think Derrick will have time to install it tonight?”
Spencer had time.
“Of course,” Kira said. “We’ll go over when we leave the hospital and I’ll drive your car here tomorrow. What else do you need?”
“Pads to put in my bra so my breasts don’t leak all over.”
Spencer tried to scrub that image from his brain.
“Let me write that down,” Kira said.
“You and your lists,” Krissy teased.
What was wrong with lists? Spencer loved lists. Speaking of which, he mentally checked off the things he’d wanted to ask Krissy that she’d already answered.
“You have a diaper pail? A baby bath?”
“No and no.”
“What?” Kira asked, with the same amount of disbelief Spencer would have used had he been the one asking.
“If taking the garbage out every day doesn’t work, I’ll get a diaper pail,” Krissy said calmly. “And for now I plan to bathe J.J. in the sink. If that doesn’t work, I’ll get a baby bathtub. Don’t worry. I got this.”
At least she’d thought it all out.
“You’re good with baby clothes and supplies?” Kira asked.
“Stop,” Krissy said. “A few friends had a little baby shower for me before I left Hawaii. I have what I need for now. As things come up, I’ll run to the store.”
Not how Spencer would have done it, but he was a planner, liked to have everything available just in case. One of the reasons he was so good at his job.
Krissy was more of a ‘deal with it when you have to’ kind of person.
As much as Spencer struggled with the idea of not being prepared for every possible situation, it was Krissy’s life, not his. For now, she seemed to have everything under control. He wasn’t needed. He wasn’t the baby’s father, wasn’t family, or a boyfriend, had no reason to still be there. Krissy needed to rest. So he set the flowers, the “It’s a Boy” balloon, and the package of chocolates he’d picked up for her at the gift shop, down on the floor, and left the room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TWO WEEKS LATER, Krissy stood in the doorway to her kitchen watching Kira go through the bags she’d lugged in and set on the table. She took out a quart of milk and put it in the refrigerator.
“I told you the last time you brought me milk that I don’t drink milk.”
“Breastfeeding women need to drink milk.”
“No. They don’t.”
“Well, at least I know you have it available if you want it.”
She wouldn’t want it. She didn’t like it.
Next Kira put a package of Swiss cheese in the refrigerator.
Krissy preferred American cheese, when she ate cheese, which wasn’t often. “I don’t like you wasting money on food I won’t eat and things I don’t need.”
Kira held up a bag of salad and a bottle of light balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
“Okay. Fine. Yes,” Krissy admitted, even though she didn’t want to do anything to encourage her. “I like salad and that’s my favorite dressing.”
Looking as if she’d triumphed in battle, Kira dug into the next bag. “Look at this adorable pacifier.” She held it up. “It has a baseball on the end.”
“I told you I don’t believe in pacifiers.”
“It helps babies calm themselves down.”
“So does sucking their thumb.” Or in J.J.’s case, his knuckles.
Krissy struggled to generate more patience as Kira pulled out the next item, a plastic bib big enough for a toddler. “Plastic is partially responsible for destroying our environment.” No, she wasn’t an environmental activist to the point she’d use cloth diapers, but she limited her use of plastic when possible.
“It will keep his clothes dry when he starts teething. It was on sale,” Kira said. “I couldn’t resist.” She held up a book on parenting. “When you’re done, I’ll take it.”
Krissy noted the colorful strips of paper sticking out from between the pages where Kira no doubt highlighted whole sections of outdated parenting techniques. “I will raise J.J. the way I think he should be raised, not according to rules in a book that can’t possibly take into consideration the unique needs of each individual child.”
This interference had to stop. The time had come for Krissy to take a stand. For days she’d been trying to figure out how to broach the topic in a way that wouldn’t make her seem ungrateful. They were finally on good terms and Krissy didn’t want to ruin that by starting an argument. But she didn’t have room for all the stuff Kira had been bringing over. She preferred to do her own grocery shopping, hated wasting the food Kira brought for her. And she would raise her son the way she darn well pleased.
“Just give it a quick browse,” Kira said. “At least the chapters on teething, toilet training, and discipline. Maybe you’ll learn something helpful.”
Settling on the straightforward approach, Krissy started an open and honest conversation, hoping for the best. “You want to know why I decided to follow you and make a home for myself in White Plains?” At least for now.
Kira stopped what she was doing and looked up.
“To be more of a help with Mom,” Krissy explained. A responsibility she’d neglected, leaving the burden on Kira for way too many years. “To be close to my only family when I gave birth to J.J. in case something horrible happened and I didn’t survive, so he wouldn’t be all alone. And while I appreciate every single thing you have done for me since I had J.J., I did not come here because I need you to take care of me.”
“Fine.” Kira started collecting the plastic bags strewn on the floor. “I won’t—”
“Stop.”
Kira didn’t stop. “If you don’t want my help,” she balled up the bags and shoved them under the kitchen sink, “then I won’t help.”
Krissy had hurt her sister’s feelings. The very last thing she’d wanted to do. “You’re wonderful,” Krissy told her, because she was.
Kira stopped.
“The most wonderful sister in the world.” If not for Kira’s fierce determination and willingness to go against the recommendations of several social workers, when she’d been only eighteen, Krissy could have been forced into foster care after their mother’s severe brain injury. But Kira had held their little family together. Krissy still didn’t know where she’d found the courage and stamina to do it. “But this is starting to feel like Murray all over again, and I have no intention of giving you J.J.”
“Murray? My cat?”
“My cat,” Krissy clarified. “Or at least that’s how he’d started out.” Krissy sat down at the table and motioned for Kira to do the same. When she did, Krissy went on, “Until you decided he should have canned food instead of dry food and he should be allowed to sleep in a bed even though I didn’t want him sleeping in my bed. Until you decided I didn’t buy him the right kind of toys or scoop his litter often enough or brush him often enough and you took over all of his care. Then, when we’d get into a fight, you’d bring up Murray and accuse me of being irresponsible. Well I’m not irresponsible. I just have my own way of doing things. And just because it’s not the same as your way doesn’t mean it’s the wrong way.”
Kira stared down at the table, looking deep in thought.
“When I was younger? You didn’t like the way I was doing something so you took over and started
doing it yourself? Fine, it was easier to let you do it than fight about it.” She leaned down to catch her sister’s eyes. “But I’m an adult now. It has to stop.”
“I am not trying to take over. I’m only trying to help.”
“By buying me milk I don’t drink and cheese I don’t eat.”
“You’re breastfeeding. You need to eat and drink healthy food. Last time I was here all you had in your refrigerator was ketchup, mayonnaise and yogurt.”
“I’m only one person. I like yogurt. And when I need food I’ll run to the store to get it. Or I’ll order it.”
Kira looked ready to argue so Krissy set her hand on Kira’s forearm. “You work all day then you run to the store then you come here for a visit. Then you run home, make dinner, and spend some quiet time with Derrick before heading downstairs to Mom’s apartment to check in on her. You’re running yourself ragged. I know you’re exhausted and more often than not, queasy. I was just recently pregnant myself, remember? I know how awful the first three months can be. And yet you’re still pushing yourself. My point is, I don’t want you running yourself ragged because of me. I love seeing you, but we don’t have to see each other every day and you don’t always have to come here. I can come to you. You don’t have to make a special trip to the store for me. I’m fine. J.J.’s fine. I won’t let either of us starve. I will always have a clean diaper available.” And if she didn’t, she’d improvise. “And if there is ever a time when we really do need something, I will call you and ask for your help.” She placed her hand over her heart. “I promise.”
Kira let out a weary breath. “I’m sorry. All I ever wanted to do was make your life easier than mine was.”
“You have.” Even if Krissy had never asked her to and she sometimes threw it back in Krissy’s face. “And I love you for it. But you can stop now. I’m all grown up.”
“Yes you are.” Kira leaned in to hug her. “I’m so proud of the independent, competent, and hard-working person you’ve become.”
Those words, coming from Kira, meant so much. “Thank you.” Krissy hugged her back. “When you have your baby, I’m going to be there for you like you’ve been here for me. Every day for the first two weeks. I’m going to cook for you, shop for you, and drive you absolutely crazy with all my suggestions. Because I will finally know more about two things than you do, actual hands on taking care of a newborn and breastfeeding.”
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