Beacon

by Michelle Irwin

  Eleven weeks. Further than her last pregnancy got. It was a relief for me and had to be one for Phoebe too.

  “I also have another piece of news for you, and it may come as something of a surprise considering you weren’t even aware of your pregnancy.”

  “What’s that?” Phoebe’s voice pitched, and her fingers squeezed my hand as she asked the question.

  “You’re expecting twins.”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened and then she turned to me. Her smile stretched wide. “Twins?”

  The look on her face was perfect. I wanted to snap a photo of it so I could look at it over and over. After a moment though, the doubts started to creep in. Would twins have a greater impact on Phoebe’s health?

  Fightin’ to keep the smile on my face, I pretended I was happy with the information. Keepin’ Phoebe calm and happy would be my one priority now because stress would only make things worse.

  “That’s great,” I said.

  “I can’t wait to tell Mum and Dad,” she said. “Can you imagine their surprise that I’m not just having a baby, but that it’s twins?”

  Despite her happy words, I could see the doubt and fear buried in her eyes. She was strugglin’ as much as I was, and was just as frightened about bringin’ it to attention. Doubt filled me again that the twins weren’t gonna be worth the cost.

  “Would you like to hear the heartbeats?”

  I was lost in thought when the question was asked, but Phoebe must have nodded because a second later, a sound filled the air. It was somethin’ I’d heard before—I’d helped Cass with most of her pregnancy appointments—but hearin’ the beat of another person’s child had nothin’ on knowin’ that was my flesh and blood. It was Phoebe and me in there; the life we’d created. Lives. Two of ’em.

  When I glanced up at Phoebe’s face, I didn’t have to force my smile. I didn’t have to pretend I was happy that she was pregnant. If anythin’ I had to fight the excitement racin’ through me.

  “I’d like to do an internal ultrasound to get some more measurements if that’s okay?”

  Phoebe’s eyes squeezed closed, and she clenched her fingers.

  “Ya don’t hafta do anythin’ ya don’t wanna,” I whispered to her.

  “No, I don’t want to risk not checking anything,” she whispered back. She turned to the sonographer. “I just . . . I’ll need a moment.”

  “That’s okay, take all the time you need. Go empty your bladder and remove your knickers, then come back and get settled on the bed.”

  “D’ya need a hand?” I asked Phoebe.

  She nodded, so I helped her off the bed.

  While I helped her to the bathroom, I asked, “You’re gonna get through this for me, ain’t ya?”

  “With your help, I’m pretty sure I can survive an internal.”

  “That ain’t what I’m talkin’ about. Bein’ pregnant is gonna put so much pressure on your body.”

  “Beau, please don’t worry. I’m not doing this lightly. Trust me when I say I’m going to fight like hell for the four of us.”

  I gave her a reassurin’ smile. That was all I needed to know. “And I’ll be fightin’ right there beside ya.”

  I left her in the ladies’ room for a moment before helpin’ her back to the bed when she was done.

  She’d just settled and when the sonographer came back into the room.

  “All set?” she asked.

  Phoebe nodded, but I could see the fear in her eyes. “I was . . . attacked a few years ago. So this isn’t easy for me.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, and you can insert the wand yourself if that will make you more comfortable.”

  I followed Phoebe’s guidance over what she needed as the sonographer worked. After another fifteen minutes, the sonographer said, “Your doctor will get the results, but I can tell you something else. Your twins. They’re monochorionic diamniotic.”

  Phoebe’s eyes widened, and her hand squeezed mine.

  “Oh, don’t be afraid. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a fancy way of saying they share the same placenta. It means they’re identical.”

  When Phoebe looked back at me, my breath stopped. She was so beautiful when she got excited. I grabbed her face and kissed her.

  Declan, Alyssa, and Angel were all waitin’ in Phoebe’s room when we arrived back again. Declan nodded to me in greetin’ before turnin’ to Phoebe. “How are you feeling, baby girl?”

  “Better than I was this morning. You should probably sit though; we’ve got some stuff to talk about.”

  I sat by the head of her bed. Angel sat on the other side. Declan and Alyssa each sat on the foot of Phoebe’s bed waitin’ for her to continue.

  “I have good news and bad news,” Phoebe started. “The bad news is I’m now at stage five. I’m going to be in the hospital for a while, a few days at least, and I’ll be on a rigorous schedule for dialysis.” Before either Declan or Alyssa could say anything, Phoebe continued, “The good news is that I’m pregnant.” She turned her gaze to me and once again, my heart went skiddin’ around my chest as it raced laps through me. “With twins.”

  “What?” Angel was the one who spoke first. She probably hadn’t expected anything Phoebe had to say after the trip to the ultrasound to surprise her.

  “Really?” Alyssa asked a second later.

  “Eleven weeks.” Phoebe laid one hand on her stomach and gave the other to me.

  Declan and Alyssa gave each other looks that seemed to echo the emotions I’d felt before I heard the babies’ heartbeats. The worry for Phoebe’s health, the concern that she was puttin’ the babies first and riskin’ her life, and the fear of losin’ her. I understood them all, but I was puttin’ my faith in a higher power—Phoebe.

  “Isn’t anyone going to say anything?” Phoebe asked, lookin’ between her parents.

  “I guess we’re all just a little lost over what you want us to say,” Alyssa said.

  Phoebe’s jaw dropped. “How about congratulations?”

  I squeezed Phoebe’s hand to warn her that she was bein’ a li’l rude to her parents. Although I could understand why, especially after bein’ greeted by the same reaction from me, but the last thing she needed was to alienate herself from her folks.

  “Why can’t anyone just be fucking happy for me? I want this.” She moved both of her hands onto her stomach. Her voice was thick with tears. “I’ve wanted this ever since I held my dead baby in my hands. For close to five years I’ve wanted this more than almost anything else.”

  “We are happy for you,” Declan said, reaching out to pat Phoebe’s leg.

  “We’re just worried about you,” Alyssa finished. “None of us want to have to say goodbye.”

  “I promised I would fight like hell to survive,” Phoebe said. “That hasn’t changed. It’s just that I want to fight for the lives of these two first.”

  “Of course, sweetie,” Alyssa said, even though she didn’t sound convinced about it. “Congratulations. We can’t wait to meet them.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  Declan patted her leg. “Congratulations, baby girl. Let us know if there’s anything we can do for you. Anything at all.”

  Phoebe relaxed back and gave a small smile. She looked tired—as if everything had struck her at once.

  “I think it might be time to give Phoebe a li’l rest,” I said.

  “I’ve rested—”

  “Please, darlin’, they’ll be here to take ya for your dialysis treatment soon. Ya need to relax.”

  “Because hours on end strapped to a machine won’t give me a single moment to relax,” she muttered.

  Although her petulance made me smile—it was exactly the sorta thing I loved about her—I had to insist. “Everyone can come back in to see ya tomorrow, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere tonight, okay?”

  Angel, Declan, and Alyssa all agreed with my words and said goodbye before gettin’ ready to leave.

  “Beau, can I see you for a moment?” Declan
asked as he left. “I just need to talk about the race that we had to leave,” he reassured a worried lookin’ Phoebe.

  “I’ll be right back, darlin’, I swear,” I promised as I left with Declan.

  CHAPTER FOUR: EXPECTIN’

  ALYSSA AND ANGEL had stayed with Phoebe while they waited for me to speak to Declan. As soon as we were far enough away from Phoebe’s room, Declan’s hands grabbed me and shoved me against the wall.

  “How could you be so goddamned careless?” he snarled at me.

  “What are ya talkin’ about?”

  He pushed away from me and paced in a small circle. “How could you get her pregnant? She was already sick enough without adding fucking babies into the mix.” He threw his hands in the air for emphasis at some of his words, as if I didn’t already know how serious they were.

  My fingers curled into a fist, and I reminded myself that his anger was just because he was worried about Phoebe’s health. “It ain’t like we were tryin’ for a baby. ’Sides, did ya not see how happy she is?”

  His hands clenched at his side. “Is her happiness worth her life though?”

  I flexed my jaw. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that losin’ these babies would kill Phoebe quicker than her kidneys ever could. She ain’t gonna change her mind on this, and I don’t think it’s fair to try to make her.”

  After shaking out his fists, he raked his hands through his hair over and over.

  “You realize she could die?” His voice was tight, and he spoke faster than usual. I wasn’t sure whether his fear was gonna loosen his tears or his anger was gonna cause him to slam me against the wall again.

  I copied his motion, tracing my hand through my hair. “Of course I realize that. I’ve been stressin’ about that ever since I heard she collapsed, but I ain’t gonna make her feel guilty about her choice. I ain’t gonna abandon her or make her think no one is on her side. It’ll only add stress, and that will only make her worse.”

  He took a deep breath that he exhaled in a huff. His expression went from white-hot rage to defeat in an instant. “I know. I’m sorry. It just scares me that we could lose her.”

  “I ain’t gonna let her give up without a fight,” I reassured him, “but I ain’t gonna fight her either.”

  “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

  “I’ll do everythin’ I can. Actually, speakin’ of that, I think we need to talk about next year.”

  He frowned as he glanced down the hallway to the door to Phoebe’s room. “What about next year?”

  “Maybe ya need to get someone else in the ProV8. Even if everythin’ goes perfectly, and Phoebe gets healthy ag’in, she ain’t gonna be healthy enough to be left at home with two babies. I know Angel will jump in and help where she can, but I don’t wanna rely on her. It ain’t fair on her to have to give up her own life because of our choices. ’Sides, Phoebe is my wife and my responsibility.”

  “I don’t know if we can find someone else to drive the car by then. Not anyone I would trust as much as I do you.”

  “If ya can’t find anyone else, I’ll be there. It ain’t my intention to leave you high and dry. I just can’t ignore Phoebe’s needs. What if . . .” I trailed off as I tried to think of the best way to word it.

  Declan frowned at me.

  “Well, what if she gets worse?” I spun back around to look at the entrance to Phoebe’s hospital room. “If she gets so bad that she needs someone to look after her full time?” My voice broke when I continued. “What if it’s so bad that she’s dyin’?”

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re right. I’ll see what I can figure out for the car.”

  “Just don’t tell Phoebe yet, please? I don’t wanna worry her.”

  “Of course. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”

  I held up my hand. It was a time of high stress for all of us. I would take his wrath a thousand times over if it saved Phoebe from even an ounce of it. “No apologies necessary. I get it. I wanna scream and shout at the world too. It ain’t fair.”

  “No. It’s not.” He patted my shoulder. “We’ll get out of your hair though so you can look after your wife. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  For the rest of the night and all of the following day, I did everything Phoebe needed. By the time we were free to leave the hospital, she was all smiles. We had instructions to return to the hospital daily for the dialysis via a catheter in her neck until Phoebe could be booked for surgery to create an arteriovenous fistula. Because of the babies and Phoebe’s GFR count of nine, the doctors wanted Phoebe to have an intensive schedule.

  Although I still hadn’t been able to completely process my own emotions about the babies, I called Cass and the boys at the Lake Retreat. They were over the moon, of course, and demanded to speak to Phoebe. Every congratulation she received seemed to bolster her confidence in her decision.

  Every day, I took Phoebe up to the hospital and sat with her while she had her dialysis. Even I had to admit she looked better and better all the time. She appeared less pale and had more energy between sessions. She even took to sassin’ me over my desire to spend each day I could sittin’ with her while she got her dialysis.

  Within a week, she had her surgery for her fistula. She came home with her arm in a sling and a list of after-care instructions that rivaled the regulation book for the ProV8 races. Around the same time, Angel gave up her apartment to move in with us. The plan was for both Angel and me to learn what we needed to do for Phoebe’s home dialysis and care in general. Havin’ someone to help would mean less stress for me when I had to go away, and Phoebe didn’t want to put her mama out when she had so many other kids to look after.

  Three days after Phoebe’s surgery, I had to head off for the race at Bathurst. I left Angel in charge of the house and Phoebe’s hospital visits. Before I left, Phoebe, Angel, and I had a meetin’ to agree on passin’ information on to me. I wanted to know everythin’ about Phoebe’s health, but I didn’t want her to get upset with Angel if she passed them along. It wasn’t an easy conversation, by gettin’ it all out and agreed upon early, we could avoid any fallout.

  Angel took her role to heart and performed it beautifully. That didn’t stop me from worryin’ every second I was away though. Knowin’ Phoebe was home and gettin’ sicker made it harder than ever to stay away. The track didn’t hold the same appeal with the knowledge Phoebe needed me at home. I worked hard to get as good a result as possible anyway, knowin’ Phoebe would be disappointed if I didn’t do everythin’ in my power to get a win.

  Every time I came off the track, I checked my phone for news and thanked the heavens when there was nothin’. The weeks passed by. Phoebe’s health had peaks and troughs. The good days, she was all smiles and had the pregnancy glow. Durin’ the bad, she would go pale and faint, and most often she’d need a trip to the hospital for fluids.

  The Gold Coast 600 came, signalin’ that the end of the race season loomed nearer. All of the stuff on the track faded into the background though, it wasn’t important. Not like Phoebe was. Not like our babies were. Over that weekend, Declan let me know he’d found a driver to replace me if I still wanted to give up my career to look after Phoebe. Although it broke my heart to do it, I gave him the go-ahead to replace me.

  When I came home from the weekend, Phoebe was bustlin’ with energy. I couldn’t tell her my news, not right away—not without riskin’ her bein’ disappointed in the decision I’d made to leave the team. It would require a li’l more finesse than that. After lettin’ me say hello to Angel, Phoebe dragged me into our bedroom.

  “I felt a flutter.” She practically bounced on her feet. It was almost impossible to believe she was sick in moments like this when she was so full of life.

  “What?”

  “Over the weekend, I felt a flutter. It was like . . . I don’t know, like bubbles.” Her smile was so wide it stopped my breath. It reaffirmed the feelin’ that supportin’ her decision was the right thing. I would do
anythin’ to keep that smile on her face.

  “Did ya wanna go out tonight to celebrate?” I could tell her about the change in my career path over dinner.

  “It’s exciting, but I think having a night out might be a bit of an overkill.”

  “It ain’t just that. I’ve missed ya, darlin’. I don’t wanna spend every minute together worryin’ about ya bein’ sick.”

  Her smile dropped instantly. “I’m sorry that—”

  “No, darlin’, I ain’t sayin’ it’s something you’ve done. It ain’t anythin’ to apologize for; I just wanna have some fun.”

  “Okay. But first . . .” She pulled off her dress. “Feel this. I’ve got a bump.” She grabbed my hand and rested it against her stomach before giving me a smile that lit up her face like a beacon.

  There was a definite bump between her hipbones. I brushed my fingers over her belly and gave her a smile. “Dang, you’re beautiful when ya smile like that.”

  Without giving her a chance to argue, I fell to my knees and pressed a delicate kiss against her defined li’l bump.

  “Howdy, babies,” I whispered before lookin’ up at Phoebe.

  Her seafoam eyes sparkled with amusement as she stared down at me.

  “I gotta tell you two that you have the most wonderful mama. She’s brave and knows exactly what she wants, and I am so proud of her.”

  Her fingers traced through my hair. “And your daddy is the best man in the world. He’s strong and true, and I don’t know anyone who would be a better role model for the two of you.”

  I kissed my way up her body before drawing her lips to mine. “Maybe we should stay in instead.”

  She gave her agreement in the form of her hands tearing at the hem of my shirt moments before she let me carry her to bed. I was careful not to let her put any weight on the arm with her fistula and took care not to hurt her or the babies as we connected.

  After we’d finished, she curled up against my chest.

  “I got somethin’ to tell ya,” I said as I leaned my cheek against her hair, “and I dunno how you’re gonna take it.”