“Is everything okay in here?” A nurse stuck her head in as she was in the middle of a contraction.
Abby squeezed his hand in a white-knuckled grip, and he looked at the nurse. “No. She’s hurting. Can’t you give her anything?”
“Abby declined the epidural, Mr. Ramirez and she’s dilated too far for one now.”
Abby groaned as the contraction finished and fell back against the pillow. Tristan wiped her sweaty brow with a damp cloth, and she closed her eyes.
The nurse snapped on a glove and wheeled a chair over. “I’m going to check and see how far you’re dilated now, okay?”
Abby nodded, breathing deeply as the nurse used her fingers to check the progress. “Abby, it’s time. You’re at ten and I can see the top of the baby’s head.” She stuck her head out the door and asked for the doctor. “Are you ready to meet your baby?”
“Yes.” She looked up at Tristan, the area under her eyes purple, her skin pale.
He wanted to make this all go away for her. She was so tired, had been in so much pain and he couldn’t do a damned thing. “I love you.”
She smiled, ever so lightly. “I love you too.”
The doctor came in and the nurses moved swiftly to set things up. Abby’s legs were adjusted and the doctor settled into position. “Okay, Abby, with the next contraction, I want you to push.” Everyone looked at the monitor. “And we have one starting now. It’s time, Abby. Push!”
~
With every contraction, Abby wanted to beg the doctor for a C-section.
“There’s nothing you can do for her pain?” Tristan’s voice was strained, the veins in his neck were bulging and he looked like a man with a threadbare grip on restraint.
“Not at this point. But she’s doing great. It won’t be long now.”
Tristan attempted to smile but didn’t do a very good job.
“Oh God...” Another pain shot through her and Abby gripped Tristan’s hand.
“...five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Good girl, Abby. We should get the head out with the next one.”
Abby sagged in relief. Tristan’s lips brushed her ear as he whispered low. “My next project is going to be finding a way to make this a painless experience. As God as my witness, you will never have to go through this again.”
All during her labor, Abby hadn’t talked. She couldn’t. Primarily because of the labor pain. If she had any idea the contractions would be this intense, she would have signed that consent form for the epidural. Secondly, she didn’t know what to say to Tristan.
Are you really my dead husband would probably earn her a stay on the psychiatric ward.
She also couldn’t face going through this without Tristan here. She loved him, and couldn’t deal with any of the what ifs right now. There was something much more important to concentrate on.
Her body tensed as the next contraction started.
“Hold on, Abby. I’ve got you.”
That got her through the next ten minutes.
~
Abby had pushed for thirty-seven minutes, and Tristan was about to pull his hair out. She was exhausted. Her face and chest were bright pink and drenched in sweat. Her hair was plastered to her head. Her fingers shook. But he’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Tristan stayed by her head, kissing her between contractions.
“You are so brave.” Tristan held her hand and cradled her head, placing kisses wherever he could. “I wish I could do this for you.”
The next contraction started, and she grunted. Her face contorted as the doctor gave the order to push.
“Stop, Abby, the head is out and I’ve got to get the cord. He’s tangled up a bit.”
“Is he okay?” Abby breathed raggedly as she looked at the doctor.
“You’ll see for yourself in a few moments. Okay, young lady, let’s get the rest of your son out. Give me one more push.”
Abby’s groan was primal, wrenched from deep within her body, and Tristan felt her tremble with this last push.
“He’s out, Abby. Congratulations, Mom!”
She sagged, a weary smile on her face. Tristan kissed her and together they watched the nurses handling the baby. As the baby’s first cry filled the air, tears streaked down Abby’s cheeks.
Tristan stood and walked toward the nurse. My son. That is my son!
“Apgars are eight and nine,” the nurse announced.
“Is that good?” Tristan stood right by the nurse’s side, shadowing her every movement.
She smiled indulgently. “It’s very good. Would you like to carry him over to Mom?”
Tristan’s head whipped around and he looked to Abby for confirmation. She nodded, and he held out his arms. “I’d love to.”
The nurse placed the precious bundle in his arms, and Tristan felt his own tears as he carried the baby. He cautiously kissed the baby’s forehead. “He looks so tiny. I don’t want to break him.”
~
Abby sat up, helped by the nurses. “You won’t break him.”
Tristan bent and handed the baby to her, and her breath caught as she looked at her son for the first time.
“He’s beautiful.” She knew that all mothers thought that, but this was different. The baby had plump cheeks, a full mouth and deep blue eyes. “Hi, I’m your mommy.” She knew babies were unable to focus, but it seemed as if her son was taking stock. Enjoying the warmth of being in his mother’s arms, when he’d only known the safety of the womb. Hearing her voice without the distortion of the amniotic fluid. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“What are you going to name him?” Tristan was by her side, staring down at the baby with an exultant smile on his face.
“Alexander Emilio Daniels.”
Tristan gasped. “You’re giving him my middle name?”
Both of them. “Yes.” She nodded. “Are you okay with that?”
Tristan nodded and brushed his lips over her cheek. “Thank you, Abby. I love you.”
“And I love you, too.”
She enjoyed this perfect moment, grateful to finally hold her son in her arms.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Diane Adams plugged her phone into the charger beside the bed. She’d left the house without her camera so she’d taken over fifty pictures of her beautiful new grandson with her phone. Those pictures would be a happy distraction from the things that were just not making sense.
Jackson waited for her to join him in bed. Her husband of thirty-three years was even more handsome than when they’d first met. Except for a slight paunch and the gray peppering his dark brown hair, he looked very much like that young man who’d serenaded Diane before proposing.
“Honey, come to bed and tell me what’s bothering you.”
Diane climbed between the sheets, knowing Jackson could read her like a book. There would be no hiding anything. “Abby asked me to come to the hospital today.”
He shrugged. “Of course she did, sweetheart. You’re her mother...”
Diane shook her head. “No. It was more than that. Tom and Ann came to see Alexander. She wanted me there with her.”
“Why?”
“Because Tom hasn’t been the ideal father-in-law, and Abby was afraid Tom would be worse without David to act as a buffer.”
Jackson’s eyebrows narrowed. “Has he said something to upset Abby?”
“He acted fairly decently today.”
“What has Tom done?”
“You know that he wanted David to come home?” Jackson nodded. “Well, when David made it clear that he was staying here because he was marrying Abby, Tom started pressuring Abby...”
“How?” Jackson’s voice grew deeper and his nostrils flared. Diane was beginning to regret telling him anything because the story didn’t get better and Abby was still daddy’s little girl. “Diane, just tell me.”
In for a penny. “Repeatedly pointing out that David would take over his firm when Tom retired. Reminding her that David was a third generation Daniels attorney.”
/> When she paused, Jackson made a circular motion with his fingers for her to continue. “And?”
“He insinuated that she was only with David for the money. When she pointed out that it was David’s decision, and that if she were after his money, she would’ve insisted they go back to Savannah, he insulted her intelligence.”
“That son of a bitch!”
“Jackson...”
“No, Diane. There’s something I didn’t tell you. He visited me before the wedding, trying to talk me into convincing them to move to Savannah. I told him that where they lived wasn’t important to me so long as they were happy. And wherever they ended up, be it in Atlanta or Savannah, as fathers we should support their decision.” Jackson shook his head. “Jesus. He didn’t get what he wanted out of me so he went to work on my little girl?”
“Yes. But he was very careful never to say anything in front of David.”
“Of course not. As much as he loved his parents, Abby was David’s life. He never would’ve stood for her getting hurt.” Jackson hung his head and his voice dropped. “I wish I’d known. I wish David had known. God, I miss that boy.”
Diane rubbed her husband’s shoulders and scooted in closer. “I do too. But that brings up the second part of what happened today. You should’ve seen Tristan.”
“What did he do?”
“He was there when I got to the hospital. The look of pure joy on his face was something else. He doted on Abby. Helping her back to the bed, fluffing her pillow, covering her with the sheet. And Jackson,” Diane paused before continuing, “Tristan acts like Alexander is his own son.”
“That’s good, because something tells me this boy is going to be around a long time. But what happened when Tom and Ann got there?”
“Tristan stayed at the head of the bed by Abby. It was so odd. He would move so I could give her a drink or hand her a hairbrush or whatever she needed. But when Tom came close to her, Tristan didn’t move at all.”
“Abby probably warned him.”
“Maybe, but it felt like more than that. I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into things. But it seemed like there was something under the surface.” Diane clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. “I caught him watching Ann and there seemed to be pain there. Which has to be wrong because they don’t know each other.”
Jackson shook his head. “No, I don’t suppose they do. Well, regardless, Tristan seems to love Abby.”
“Are you saying you like him?” Diane asked, a smile curling her lips.
“Honey, I’m not going to invite him over for a backyard barbecue or anything, but he’s all right, I guess.”
Which was as big a concession as Tristan Ramirez was going to get out of Abby’s father for now. Diane kissed her husband. “Yes, and he has box seats at Turner Field.”
“Well,” Jackson declared as he turned off the lamp and curled into his wife’s side. “There is that.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Abby felt like she could sleep forever, but the nurses would be back in with Alexander in a few hours. She would have to snatch a little sleep while she could.
Tristan was in one of the rollaway beds the hospital provided for fathers. He’d fallen asleep in his clothes. His legs were so long they hung off the end of the bed. He hadn’t left her side, not even when David’s parents were here, which was comforting. Tom kept his condescension in check, and Abby knew that was only because of Tristan. Ann, however, wept when she held Alexander. Tristan looked pained as he observed her, and Abby could’ve sworn she saw him wipe at a tear when he turned his head.
She had just started to drift off, when the door creaked open, waking her. Despite her exhaustion, she smiled at the visitor. How had he found out about the baby and why had the staff let him in this late?
“Ehron, come in.”
“Thanks. I’m not going to be very long.” The door closed behind him, and Abby realized that she had seriously underestimated his size. Something about him was different. The Ehron that showed up at her house had been a working man, wearing a button-up utility shirt with his name embroidered above the breast. The man that stood before her now had the presence of a soldier on a mission. He wore black, from head to toe, from the fitted t-shirt, to the leather pants and combat boots.
What in the world was going on?
“I just wanted to say congratulations. I saw the little one. He’s beautiful.”
“Thanks. I think so too. Have a seat...or not. I’m not sure there’s one big enough to hold you.”
Ehron chuckled. “Probably not.” He glanced over at Tristan’s sleeping form and sighed. “That one has had a long road.”
Her gaze darted between Ehron and Tristan. “How long have you known each other?”
“He’s known me for less than a year. I’ve known him since he was born. And that is a pretty complex story.”
“I’ll bet.” Especially considering that Ehron looked younger than Tristan. “Why don’t you try explaining?”
“Sure.” Ehron leaned against the wall, inches away from the rollaway bed and Abby wanted him to move so their conversation wouldn’t wake Tristan. He glanced down with a smile. “Tristan will sleep through this, and when I leave, no one, except you, will realize I have been here.” Abby gaped and Ehron continued. “Have you ever felt like you weren’t alone? Like, perhaps, someone was watching over you?”
She nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this. “Yes.”
“Good. Any time you feel that, it means someone is with you. They can’t show themselves because,” Ehron rolled his eyes and waved his hands around, “there are rules about that sort of thing and they simply can’t be broken. In any case, the powers that be realize that certain people are going to need watching more than others as their lives progress. Which is how I came to know him.”
Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. Ehron didn’t seem drunk. “Did you go to school together?”
“I’m older than I look, Abby. A lot older.”
Right. “Okay then. You’ve known Tristan all your lives...”
“His, not mine. There is the age difference.”
“Fine. All his life and you’ve witnessed his hardships. Did you know his wife?”
Ehron tsked and narrowed his gaze. “Abby, just let me finish my story and I’ll answer any questions you have. Okay?”
Abby nodded.
“Good. This man is a big ball of complexities. Despite your doubts, your love has only grown stronger.”
This conversation just got stranger. “I’m not sure you know my doubts, Ehron. Unlike your relationship with Tristan, you and I have only known each other a short time.”
“I know a man who ran down eight flights of stairs to reach the woman he loved. And when she went away, because he’d hurt her so badly, he ran back, just to get to her so he could begin the process of making things right. But he died before he could.”
Abby gasped.
“Love never ends; as for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.”
Abby’s chest heaved. “Oh God.” She recognized this part of Corinthians Chapter Thirteen.
Ehron continued. “Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood. So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
A hot trail of tears streamed down Abby’s face. Her lip quivered. And she stared in curious amazement at Ehron. “So I was right? He’s David?”
“That is Tristan Emilio Ramirez. He loves you as he has never loved another. But he has gone through hell to get to this moment. He would die for you. He has died for you. Love. Never. Ends.”
Tristan lay still with his fingers curled around the pillow. His face flinched, as if he was in the depths of a bad dream.
“He’s afraid. Long ago, when the Israelites left Egypt on their journey to the Promised Land, it took them forty years to make an eleven-day journey thr
ough the desert. Some died, some didn’t, but the faithful kept on, knowing that the end result was worth every hardship placed in their path. Those people were afraid. But they had faith.”
Abby watched Tristan as she took in Ehron’s speech.
“Have your own faith, Abby. You’ve had your own difficult journey and there is a reward in sight.”
“Who is he, Ehron?”
“He’s Tristan, the man who loves you and Alexander more than anyone else in the world.”
“Who did he used to be?”
“Lost. Now with you, he’s found.”
“Can you please just answer the question? I don’t think that is too much to ask.”
“You know the answer.”
“No I don’t.” Abby wiped at her tears. “I have nothing to go on other than feelings. And I’m afraid.”
“So is he. But remember, faith, hope and love abide, but the greatest of these is love. It’s brought you this far. Love will get you through.”
She knew this to be true. Questions and nagging doubts aside, Abby knew good and well she would love Tristan until the end of her days. She looked up at Ehron. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head. “My pleasure. I must be going now. Be well, Abby.”
“You too—” Before she could finish her statement, he disappeared. Just faded into thin air.
She edged off the bed. No one was there. It was as if he was never there and Abby imagined the last ten minutes. She blinked. What in the world just happened? Something flickered into her field of vision. A tiny black feather floated slowly down to land in the palm of her hand.
“Oh my God.” Abby thought back to meeting Ehron. She’d found the flyer for Gilded Wing Painters attached to her car and she had a funny feeling that she should call the number.
Ehron was an angel.
Abby clutched the feather. Ehron’s visit only confused her more. Now, the question was, what was she going to do next?
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