by Selena Kitt
"Please, just call me Tony. I'm sorry, I know you've been through an ordeal. It's just… I'm afraid I don't even know if it was right for me to come. I mean, I thought about calling but that just didn't seem right either." He paused and, I was almost certain, he was studying me intently before going on. I tried to remain stoic.
"And?" My voice was squeaky again. I didn't know why, but waves of discomfort rolled through me. Cramps. I couldn't help but hug myself, hoping I would not be sick in front of the soldier or even while he was still there. All the more reason to rush him along. "And?" I felt the surge of warmth at the same time he must have noticed.
"And—there is something wrong with you. You have a sheen of sweat across your forehead and lip and—shit! You're bleeding!" He dropped to his knees on the floor in front of me as I followed his line of vision and looked down at my white Capri shorts—and the peach colored floral seat cushion with the growing circle of blood spreading out from around my posterior.
"Oh, my God." I gripped my stomach, knowing it was the baby. I started to stand but he pressed me back into my chair.
"Don't move. I'm calling an ambulance." He already had his phone in his hand, punching the three numbers, nine-one-one, into the number pad.
I'd never been good with the sight of blood, but this was worse. "Please, save my baby…" I watched him through blurry eyes as the room started to fade away.
"Mrs. Blair, Mrs. Blair, Frankie… stay with me. You are going to be okay." His voice changed, faded, and then it was another man leaning over me. A paramedic. I could see them, but it was as though they couldn't hear what I was saying. It was like I was underwater. Drugged, they'd drugged me.
"Please, no drugs. My baby. Save my baby…"
I drifted in and out. They were wheeling me into an ambulance. The lights were really bright inside. I tried to lift my arm but it was weighed down and icy cold. I looked for the cause and found a strap holding my arm to the gurney.
"We're just starting an IV for you, Mrs. Blair. Try to relax. We'll be at the hospital soon." The face was floating in front of me and when it retreated, another appeared. The soldier again. His eyes were kind, reassuring even. Something about his presence was very comforting. I closed my eyes to ward off the dizziness and drifted off under the warm layer of heavy blankets.
Chapter Two
Tony
"Jerard, stay with us. We're going to get you looked at. The blood on you, it isn't yours. You're going to be all right. Hang in there." A face. Light shining into my eyes.
"BP is dropping. Sixty-four over twenty-eight."
"Frankie…" Moaning. "Frankie, Frankie. God, Frankie. I'm so sorry."
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeep…
"He's bleeding out. Get him to the OR." Movement, lights, rushing.
"Move. Move. Let's go!"
I awoke to feel the warm hand of one of the nurses on my arm. A glance at her tag told me her name was Jackie. The same as my mother. It was odd; my mother was a nurse, as well. The strange coincidence made me smile to myself.
"Sergeant Jerard—"
"Tony, please."
"I'm sorry to wake you, Tony. Your wife is resting peacefully now. We have her settled in a room. You can come back and sit with her." She was pretty, and her voice was kind. As I followed the plump, older nurse down the long hall, I debated whether or not I should have told her that Frankie wasn't my wife. Although I knew it was wrong, I didn't say anything. I wanted to be there for Frankie. Wasn't that why I'd come? If they knew, they might not let me stay.
I scooted the chair close to the side of the bed and sat down. Minutes passed slowly as I waited for her to wake. Would she be mad that I was still there? The room was quiet except for the steady drip of the IV and the occasional filling of the blood pressure cuff. I watched her chest softly rise and fall as she slept. The monitor flashed and beeped with its repetitive arcs that were surely Frankie's heartbeat.
My gaze dropped to her flat stomach. I'd been shocked when they'd come out earlier during her procedure and told me she'd lost the baby. I didn't have to pretend to be shocked. She'd talked about her baby in the ambulance, but it hadn't sunk in until the doctor came out to tell me about the loss. Her pregnancy was the last thing I had expected with Damien dying six months before. How far along had she been? I'd never have even guessed she was pregnant. She was tiny, not just her stomach, but her slight frame and tiny features. Frankie seemed fragile. Maybe she was too small to have a baby. She was much smaller than my sisters by far. And Danni was seven months pregnant and healthy as an ox, as my mother liked to say.
Frankie sighed, drawing my thoughts back to her. She reminded me of an angel lying there, with her blonde, almost white hair, and smooth, pale skin. I thought of her wide blue eyes as they had filled with tears and she'd clung to my hand, not wanting me to let go when I went to open the door for the paramedics. It completely crippled me to think of her alone during this time. Where were her friends, parents? Someone had to fucking care. I'd searched her purse but there was nothing of great help. Most likely her phone would have more information, but it wasn't in her purse when I'd grabbed it on the way out of the apartment.
I was deluding myself. I wanted to be here with her; I wanted to take care of her. But part of me hated her. I stood up and paced the room. Thirteen weeks. That was what they'd said; thirteen weeks pregnant. That was barely three months. How could it be? Damien had been dead six months and had been deployed for months even before that. How the fuck could she cuckold him like that? I didn't care who he was. I imagined for a second that he must've been a shithead—but then my sense of honor was back. Army wives know that they need to honor their men, no matter the circumstances. They were fighting for their lives overseas. Personal problems on the home front were distracting and could cost them their life as well as the lives of their fellow soldiers. Maybe she was the reason Blair had been hit. Maybe he'd found out about the pregnancy and was upset. He didn't have his mind on his job and could have walked right into a dangerous position. Anger seared all the tender thoughts I'd had while she was rushed into the hospital.
She'd already been involved with someone this soon? Involved enough to get knocked up? And where the hell was the man now? What the hell was I even doing here? A heated sigh escaped me. This wasn't my problem. I didn't need to be involved in this mess. If I was smart, I'd forget the reason why I had come and get back to Oahu.
And then she whimpered.
I hurried back to her side and sat down again. Her lips moved like she was trying to say something. Her eyes were still shut. A nightmare? The poor thing. And just like that, all my anger disappeared. God, how I wanted to scoop her up and cradle her in my arms. I'd tell her that it was okay… everything would be okay.
Her eyelids fluttered. Red-rimmed baby blues peered out at me as tears overflowed and trickled down her cheeks. She knew. She knew the baby was gone. She didn't even look at me, she looked through me. She wasn't there but in her own world of loss instead. First her husband, now her baby. When her eyes finally locked on mine, I took her hand and every ounce of bitterness toward her was gone.
"My baby?" I couldn't hear her words, her voice was so soft, but I could read her lips. Before I could even shake my head from side to side, she'd pulled her hand free from mine and clutched at her tummy. She rolled away from me to the other side of the bed even as I said, "I'm so sorry."
Her shoulders shook with her sobbing, very effectively breaking my heart. It didn't matter what I'd thought of her minutes ago, I hated for her to be hurting so. Again I resisted the desire to lift her onto my lap so I could hold her tight and comfort her. I couldn't stop myself from moving closer and rubbing her back, but I couldn't tell her she would be all right. I couldn't even imagine the loss she was experiencing.
"I'm here for you, Frankie. I'm so sorry." I felt so far away, even though I was touching her. I couldn't do anything for her and it nearly killed me. I was a fix-it guy. If there was a problem, I wanted to fix it, but there was no way I coul
d fix this. All I could do was be there for her until her family came.
I moved to the chair on the other side of the bed. When I sat down and leaned forward, I could look at her face again. I didn't know why, but this was better. I rubbed her arm and her hair and finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, I scooped her up. I was gentle and it was work to make sure I didn't tangle her IV or the cables to the monitors but I was able to wrap her in the blankets and bring her to my lap. I hugged her close to my chest and she didn't resist. She burrowed into my shoulder and cried her eyes out.
"I'm sorry, Frankie. God. I'm so sorry," I heard myself saying, and a moment of déjà vu passed over me.
* * *
Frankie
I didn't know who he was or where he had come from. I didn't know why Sergeant Jerard—Tony—was there at all, or how long he would stay, but for now, he was mine, and I clung to his strength. Where previously, seeing the army uniform had left a bad taste in my mouth, I now found comfort in it. There was something about living on base and the safety it had provided, but now I was alone in a big scary world.
I've never been so alone before, and believe me, I'd been alone before. I had no brothers or sisters, and my parents traveled the world regularly, so I was raised by a nanny—well, nannies. People generally think I mean a lifelong nanny like you would see on one of those TV shows, but think again. Forever only happened in fairy tales. In real life, a nanny was just a paid position and I had learned young how to be by myself quite well.
For this reason, I often wondered why I'd chosen Damien. I'd known him since I was very young. I think I always knew he wouldn't be permanent. He'd planned to be a soldier for as long as I can remember, so I knew he wouldn't stay home. But he was my best friend, maybe my only true friend. He understood me like no one else. When my parents were gone, which was always, he'd come over to hang out. He liked my digs better than his own. His mother was a maid for one of our neighbors, so she and Damien lived in a guest house on their property. Damien liked to come to my house to watch movies or play video games. I didn't like to play them, but I would if it drew him over. In fact, I think I asked for the Xbox for him. Anything was better than being by myself day in and day out in our monstrous mansion. I could also lure him with food. Roberta, our cook during the later years, made us whatever I wanted. I could also talk Hannah, the nanny, into ordering pizza or whatever we had a hankering for. Food was the way to Damien's heart.
It could not, however, keep him home. But at least I wasn't totally alone. The only benefit to life on post was that there were always other lonely wives to keep company with. I'd never been a social butterfly, but I did have some friends at Fort Stewart. None of this helped me now. There wasn't a friend that I could call. And my parents were in Europe the last I'd heard.
So, maybe it was fickle of me to cling to this sexy soldier even though I knew he was a temporary fixture, but none of that mattered to me then. The only thing that mattered was that he was strong and wrapped his strength around me, rubbing my back and kissing my forehead. Nothing else mattered.
* * *
"Hey, baby. How are you feeling?" I ignored the endearment he'd called me, even though it flooded me with warmth and made me feel loved again for the first time in a long time. His voice was soft and smooth and I could almost still feel it against my ear, as it had been when he'd held me tightly sometime during the night. It was morning now and I was back in the bed. Not my bed at home, but the stiff plastic hospital bed, with its starched sheets and crinkly plastic pillow. I hadn't even realized he was still there when I first opened my eyes. He looked rough. Not that 'rough' looked bad on him. In fact, it may have enhanced his dark, brooding features.
"Did you sleep in that chair?" It was small talk, although, to me, the fact that he had slept there was huge.
He rubbed his hands over the day's worth of growth darkening his chin. "No, I didn't sleep," he admitted and then continued, "Are you hungry? The nurse said they'd be around with breakfast soon. I was going to go to the cafeteria to grab some coffee for myself, so if you don't want what they bring, I could get you something else." He had unbuttoned the collar of his dress shirt and removed the suit jacket. Neither of which affected his appeal.
"I-uh… no… I don't feel hungry." Why was he still here, anyway? "You didn't have to stay," I said, somewhat afraid he would leave now because I'd said so. I looked away so I didn't have to look into his all-knowing dark green eyes and see the relief when he realized he was free to go.
"I know I didn't have to. I just wanted to be here for you since no one else has come." He leaned forward and met my eyes before continuing, "I can leave if you want me to, but is there someone you want me to contact? They said someone will have to drive you home."
The realization that I had to go home hit me like a sucker punch, ripping the breath from my chest. I hugged myself, the emptiness taking hold of me fast. Before I could respond, a vibrant, energetic nurse bounced into the room.
"Good, you are awake. You weren't the last time I was in here. I'm Celia, I'll be taking care of you and helping you get ready to go home. I told your husband that we'll get your catheter out and get you up and walking. As soon as you've voided and eaten, we'll let you head home." She picked up the clipboard at the end of my bed and started to write. "Your discharge paperwork will most likely answer any of your questions, but can I help with anything for you right now?" As Celia came over to my IV pump, Sergeant Jerard came to his feet.
"Excuse me, I'm going down to the cafeteria. I'll give you some time…" He didn't look back as he bee-lined for the door.
I fought off the urge to look under the covers. A catheter? Then why did I feel like I had to pee so bad? "I need to go to the bathroom," I said, ignoring the real questions that plagued me. How could I go home so soon? I'd just lost a baby—my baby was gone. Tears began anew.
"Oh, honey. I know this is hard. I had a miscarriage a couple years ago. Nothing prepares you for that." She came forward and patted my hand. Her smile was genuine and I appreciated her concern. "The procedure they did is very uncomfortable, but routine. You shouldn't have any complications. A couple days of rest and you will be feeling much better. Let me help you get ready to go."
I showered and dressed in yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee I'd never seen before. I was picking at my breakfast when he returned. I took a bite of toast but had to wash it down with a swig of tea when it wouldn't descend on its own.
"Well, you look much better. I see the clothes fit okay. I was worried because I didn't have a size to go by. How do you feel?" Tony asked. His eyes traveled my body as if could read me and see for himself. I looked up at him but ignored the question.
"Did you tell them you are my husband? Why are you still here?"
Doubt seemed to flicker in his eyes for a moment, even though his posture spoke confidence. "They guessed I was your husband and I didn't correct them. My tag clearly states another name than yours but they didn't say anything. No one else was here, so I stayed. I'm sorry. Have you called someone else? Do you want me to call someone for you?" He still didn't answer the most important question—why he was there to begin with. But he did remind me that I had no one else to call. It was stupid of me to ever think I could have a baby on my own. I should have listened to my mother on that topic. She'd probably tell me she had told me so.
"I'm sorry. I really appreciate your being here. I just… I still don't know why you are here." I stirred my tea, again diverting my gaze. Right then, I hated myself and my neediness.
He didn't get to answer me then, either, since the nurse chose that moment to come back. "Well, you haven't eaten much but you can go whenever you are ready. I have your discharge instructions here. I'll sum them up for you, but you should read them all just to be safe. You should rest for a couple days. No heavy lifting or strenuous exercise for five to seven days. No sex, tub baths or douche. Take ibuprofen as needed. You have a script for them. Did you have any questions?" She set the papers on the
bed table and pointed to the line I needed to sign, then turned to him. "She shouldn't be left alone for twenty-four to forty-eight hours and, of course, no driving. You'll want to follow up with your ob/gyn within a week."
I opened my mouth and quickly closed it again, realizing now wasn't the time. I signed my name and pushed the table away. "I'm ready." I started to stand. Even though I'd already walked to the bathroom and shower earlier, my legs wobbled.
"No, hang on. I'll get a wheelchair and push you out. It's hospital policy." Celia motioned to him. "Hubby, you want to go down and pull the car around? I'll bring her to you." She gave him a cheerful grin and pranced out of the room again.
He gave me a pathetic smile, picked up his jacket, and followed behind her.
Chapter Three
Tony
There was no way I was going to leave her home alone. How the hell could she be so alone in the world? I could tell that the last thing in the world she wanted was to rely on me, and yet, she did. I had three sisters and a brother, not to mention seventeen cousins and a plethora of nieces and nephews. I couldn't fathom anyone not having someone to call.
It broke my heart and made me want to protect her and care for her even though I still had this little guy on my shoulder arguing with me that she was an unfaithful bitch. I knew I should just walk away and let her deal with her problems herself, but it was not in me to be so callous and hard-hearted.
I pulled the rental car up to the door as the nurse had instructed me to do, and didn't have to wait long. I opened the passenger door and paused while Frankie drew herself up tall and as proud as royalty and got into my car. She had as big a sense of pride as most soldiers and I couldn't find fault in her for that.
We weren't even out of the parking lot yet when she finally dismissed me. "Thank you so much for everything. I'm really sorry you had to do this—but thank you. As soon as you drop me off, you'll be free." She wouldn't even look my way as she spoke. She was looking out her window so her voice was a little broken.
