by Moss, Brooke
“In the NICU.” His smile was gentle, and the crinkles around his eyes returned. “Lexie, you have a son.”
“A son?” Something washed over me. It wasn’t quite cold, but it left my skin peppered with goose bumps.
He nodded. “His lungs were slightly underdeveloped, so the neonatologist expects him to stay for a few days, to a week at most. But he’s as strong as an ox, and is the loudest kiddo in there.”
Suddenly—despite the fact that I was covered in tubes and wires, and my body felt buried in sand—the room seemed brighter. I had a son. And he was going to be okay. My face crumpled, and when I went to cover my face, I bumped my oxygen tubes. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.”
“Here, let’s get rid of that.” He unwound the tubing from around my ears, and set it on the table next to the bed.
“I’m sorry. I’m just… I just…” My voice sounded strangled. Tears flowed from my eyes, snot dripped from my nose, and I had no control over it. It was too much to handle, too much to process.
I was a mother.
I choked on another sob. “S-sorry.”
Fletcher leaned in and wrapped his arms around me. Pressing a kiss into my matted hair, he whispered, “Don’t be sorry, Lex. You did such a good job. He’s perfect.” When he pulled away, I realized there were tears in his eyes, too. “Five pounds, eight ounces. Twenty-one and a half inches. And a head of red hair, just like his mom.”
“His apgar scores were good,” the nurse added, sticking a thermometer into my ear. When it beeped a few seconds later, she surveyed the results, then looked at Fletcher. “Temp is 101.”
“We just gave her acetaminophen. It should come down within a half hour or so, so check her again in thirty minutes.” Fletcher glanced at my IVs. “And make sure to stay on top of her hydration.”
The nurse jotted Fletcher’s instructions down on a small notebook. “Got it. Anything else? How’s her bleeding?”
Fletcher’s thumb stroked across my knuckles. “I checked it just before she woke up, and it looks normal. We’ll need to try to get her sitting up in the next few hours. Possibly get her into a wheelchair so that she can go see her son.”
“He can’t come to my room?” I slurred. I reached for the straw, and took another drink of water to alleviate my cotton mouth. “I wanted to room in, and breastfeed, and—”
“All in good time. He’s in the NICU for now, and it’s for the best. They’re taking good care of him.” Fletcher brought my hand to his face to kiss it. Through the corner of my eyes I noticed that the nurse was watching us with pointed interest. “You’ve had a hard day. Let’s get you up and moving, and I’ll take you to check out your son’s awesome hair.”
“So he’s a ginger?” I laughed groggily. “That figures.”
“He’s as gorgeous as you are.” He wiped away my tears with the pads of his thumbs, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I took pictures for you.”
I wept as he scrolled through the photos. There, in all of his brand-spanking-new glory, was my son. His skin, though streaked with blood and cheesy vernix, was porcelain white. In the few shots where his eyes were open, they were the same dark blue I recognized from my own baby pictures. And sure enough, there were wet, reddish curls standing up off of his head.
My heart swelled so much, I thought my chest would crack open. My son looked nothing like Nate. He was a Baump, through and through, with a nose like Corbin’s, lips like Darren’s, and round, dimpled cheeks like my mother’s. My joy was inexplicable.
After we’d been enjoying pictures for an hour, I was moved to the post-delivery floor, and I heard Candace’s voice ring out from the doorway. “Has someone woken up?”
Fletcher, who’d remained by my side, stood up and grinned. “Yup. She just saw pictures.”
“Hi.” I waved lamely. “Come on in.”
Candace gestured down the hall. “Come on, guys! She’s up!”
My family lumbered into the room like a herd of elephants. Corbin and Andrea were both carrying enough stuffed animals and balloons to welcome every baby on the entire floor. Candace and Brian closely followed, their eyes wandering to my hand, still laced together with Fletcher’s. Next came Darren and Pandi, who was once again dressed for a nightclub, in snakeskin short shorts and a tube top. Maybe it was the morphine, maybe I had the buzz of new motherhood, but I didn’t even care that she looked like a streetwalker.
Last to enter the room was my mother. She came in with Pastor Irm, and for the first time in, like, ever they were hand in hand. As soon as our eyes met, she started to cry, and I reached for her.
“Alexandria,” she sobbed, bending down to envelope me in an embrace. I drew in her scent of Jergen’s lotion and cookies. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Dr. Javornik did an excellent job today,” Fletcher announced.
“I hear you never left her side,” Candace told Fletcher, coming around the bed to hug him. “Guess you must care about my cousin an awful lot.”
Fletcher’s cheeks reddened. “Looks like my secret’s out.”
Candace wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s about time.”
Brian punched Fletcher in the shoulder. “You could have told me.”
My mother sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “This is your special someone?”
Darren narrowed his eyes at Fletcher. “Dude. Are you a doctor?”
“Yes, sir.” Fletcher nodded. “Obstetrics and gynecology.”
“Your gynecologist is your baby daddy?” Darren cracked up. “Damn, Lexie, you know how to score free health care, huh?”
Corbin whacked him on the back of his head. “Shut up.”
“Don’t mind us, Dr. Haybee.” Andrea explained. “We’re a motley crew, but we mean well.”
“Thank you.” His hand found my shoulder and squeezed. “But call me Fletcher.”
“Thank you, Fletcher.” My mother’s voice shook. “For saving my daughter. And my grandson.”
Fletcher ducked his head humbly. “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Baump.”
“Oh, call me Patsy.” My mother fiddled with the lace collar on her kitten sweater. “And this is, um, my special friend.” She gestured for the pastor to join her by my bed. He obeyed, and grinned when she slid her arm under his. “Pastor Irmingham Hollbrook.”
The whole room went silent. Darren and Corbin’s eyes were so wide I would have laughed, had I not been in such shock myself—and still a little stoned. Andrea and Candace both slapped their hands over their mouths to suppress their giggles.
Fletcher shook Pastor Irm’s hand. “Good to meet you, sir.”
“Thank you, son.” Pastor Irm looked down at me. “Congratulations, Lexie.”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t call Marisol. We had an event this evening. Oh, crap.”
Candace rubbed my leg. “I called her, and she called in some help from your food rep. She’s going to come see you as soon as she’s done. I think she was little relieved she didn’t have to be your labor partner.”
I laughed. “Guess it was her lucky day.”
“You’ll, you know, talk to her when she gets here, right?” Candace raised an eyebrow at me.
“Yes. Of course.” I nodded, pressing my lips together tightly. Mine and Fletcher’s feelings were public now, no use in keeping it a secret from Marisol anymore.
“So, like, if you and the doctor are together, then, like, are you two getting married?” Pandi asked, shuffling on her platform heels.
I pulled out of my mom’s embrace. “We haven’t even had our first date yet. Give us some time.”
“Oh, I think this constitutes a first date,” Brian pointed out. When everyone’s attention turned to him, he offered us a shrug. “I’m just sayin’.”
Andrea laughed. “He’s got a point. I think sitting by someone’s side while they’re cut open constitutes a date.”
Corbin put an arm around his wife. “I agree. That may have taken care of dates one, two, and three.”
Fl
etcher scratched his hand across the back of his neck. “Let’s just focus on getting Lexie healthy again. Then we’ll decide what constitutes a first date.”
My mother nodded happily. “That’s a fine plan. Now, tell me about my grandson.”
I looked around the room. “Haven’t any of you seen him yet?”
Everyone shook their head, and Fletcher offered me a small smile. “I thought you should meet your son first.”
Tears filled my eyes yet again. Man, I thought pregnancy hormones were rough; they had nothing on these post-partum hormones. I couldn’t believe this man cared about me. Me. Geeky, gawky, mouthy me, with the crazy red hair and a flat chest.
I glanced downward. Whoa. Not so flat-chested right now.
Fletcher pulled his iPhone back out. “Do you mind if I show them now, Lex?”
Shaking my head, I squeezed my mother’s hand. “Please do.”
Mom looked at the screen and squealed. “He’s so beautiful.”
The room filled with the sound of oohing and aahing. Pastor Irm picked up the box of tissues and started passing them around, as everyone—including both of my brothers—were sniffling.
“Corb, he has your nose!” Andrea squealed.
My mother wiped her nose. “He’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Omigosh, Lex.” Candace clapped her hands. “What’s his name? What’s his name?”
I took a breath. I’d had my son’s name picked out since the day I found out I was pregnant. “Ian,” I announced in a wavering voice. “His name is Ian Alexander Baump. His middle name is after Dad.” I looked at my mom, who dissolved into tears and rested her head on Pastor Irm’s shoulder. “And Ian, because it means a gift from God.”
Well, that did it. Everyone was blubbering now. There was something about hospitals, new babies, and emergency C-sections that really brought out the emotion in people. When Brian started scrolling through the pictures again, everyone crowded around for a second look, and Fletcher sat back down at my side.
“Lexie.” He sighed happily, taking my hand in his. “Congratulations, my dear Lexie.”
“Thank you so, so much,” I whispered.
“I need to tell you something.” He leaned close. “Something important.”
“What?” My pulse spiked. I guess I was kind of edgy. Too much excitement for one day. “What’s wrong?”
“No, no. It’s good.” He chuckled. “I think.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I think…” Fletcher leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, he swallowed hard. “I think I love you.”
I closed my eyes, utter and complete joy filling me right to the top. “I love you, too, Fletcher.”
“What the hell?”
I looked up just in time to see Marisol come to a stop at the end of my bed. She put her hands on her hips, and tapped the toe of her four-inch knee high boot, glaring at us with utter and complete contempt. “Well this explains everything, doesn’t it?”
Chapter Twenty-six
Fletcher stood up. “Listen, we didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Marisol gaped at Fletcher.
Everyone in my family turned around at the same time.
“Mar, come and see these pictures of the baby,” Candace offered with a nervous laugh.
“Not now.” Marisol turned her gaze to me. “Lex, really?”
Fletcher frowned. “This isn’t the time or the place, Marisol. Lexie’s just had major surgery, and has yet to see her son.”
She shook her head. “Listen. I’m really glad you and the baby are all right. I’ve been worried sick about you all day.”
“He’s beautiful,” I said weakly. Fatigue was starting to settle in on me like a lead blanket. “You should see him. Brian, show her the phone.”
Brian went to hand her the phone but she swatted it away. “I don’t want to see,” she snapped. “I want an explanation.”
I tried to sit up. “Listen, I—”
Fletcher came around the bed to face Marisol. “This is all my fault.”
I pushed the button on my bed to sit myself up more. My whole body felt heavy and disconnected. “No, Fletcher, it’s not.”
Marisol put her hand up to stop him. “That’s bull. You told me there wasn’t anybody else.”
“Awkward,” Darren sang. Corbin’s hand connected with the back of his head again, and Darren’s smile disappeared.
“At the time, there wasn’t.” Fletcher looked down at me, his eyes softening. “I’ve had feelings for Lexie for months. I should have been honest with you about them, but I didn’t think I would ever act on them. And I didn’t, at least, not until the very end of our relationship.”
“Excuse me?” Marisol blinked a few times.
“We never meant to hurt you. Or keep anything from you.” Fletcher’s shoulders slumped. “I hate myself for putting yours and Lexie’s friendship in jeopardy.”
Corbin stepped forward. “Um, guys? This has been a long day for Lex. Can you take it out in the hall or something?”
“He’s right.” Fletcher reached for Marisol’s arm. “Why don’t we go get a cup of coffee, and I’ll explain.”
“Go to hell,” she snarled, before turning her focus back to me. “Lex, why don’t you try to explain? I’d prefer to hear this from my friend.”
Candace stepped to Marisol’s side. “Why don’t we all head down to the cafeteria?”
Corbin held up the phone. “Fletcher took pictures. Would you like to see?”
Not one to pass up a dramatic moment, Marisol tossed her hair wildly. “Just like a proud father, huh?”
My mother gasped. “Lexie, is the doctor the father?”
“I, uh.” I turned to look at my mom, and thought I saw tracers. I was suddenly more tired than I’d ever been.
“His name is Fletcher,” Darren corrected. “Duh.”
My head swiveled in his direction. Again with the tracers. How much pain medication had I had?
“Hush.” My mom sniffed.
“They’re getting married.” Pandi put a hand full of extra long fingernails on her hip. “Right after their first date.”
Marisol gawked at me. “You’re getting married?”
“I’m not getting married.” I gestured down at my deflated stomach. “Mom, I was pregnant before I met him.”
“This is ridiculous.” A muscle in Fletcher’s jaw twitched. “Marisol, let’s step outside.”
She looked up at him with a glare. “Drop dead.”
“You know what?” Candace put her arm around Marisol’s shoulders. “Let’s go to the cafeteria. This is getting out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” Marisol folded her arms across her chest. She looked completely flummoxed. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around my friend and business partner kissing my ex boyfriend. How many times did that happen while we were still together. Huh?”
The room went silent, and I heard the faint cry of a baby somewhere on the floor. Like a comedy movie, everyone’s eyes grew round and wide, then fixed their gaze on random spots around the room.
Well, everyone except Darren and Pandi, who’d started to kiss, oblivious to the soap opera unfolding all around them.
The quiet in the room stretched from a few seconds to a full minute. Corbin, Andrea, Candace, and Brian all seemed to hold their breath, waiting for the you-know-what to hit the fan. Fletcher laced his hands on top of hid head and released a long, guttural sigh.
“Marisol,” he began.
I started to cry. Again. The air in the room felt thick and heavy, and it was all I could do to keep my thoughts straight. “I never meant for it to happen, I’m so sorry.”
Her brown eyes widened. “Really?”
Marisol’s voice cracked, and my heart jerked inside of my chest. I never wanted to hurt her. She’d been my friend for a decade, and despite all of her annoying qualities, Marisol would’ve taken a bullet
for me. What I’d done to her, no matter how strong my feelings for Fletcher were, and no matter how much I loved him, was wrong.
“Mar.” I tried to sit up, but the tubing on one of my IVs got caught, and I yelped in pain as it pulled on my flesh.
Fletcher darted to my side and unwound the tubing. “You okay?” The guilt on his face was clear, as the corners of his mouth were pointed downward, and his brows were bound tightly together.
“You fooled around with Fletcher while I was dating him?” Marisol asked me, her damp eyes reflecting the soft light in the room.
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, choking on the words. “But how was I supposed to know you were that serious about him? It’s not like you’ve ever been serious about anyone before.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Marisol yelled, her voice wavering. “It’s against the friend code. You know that.”
“I do.” Nodding, I rubbed my eyes. “And it’s not like I thought what I felt for Fletcher was okay, but you fleet from one guy to the next so quickly. It never occurred to me that—”
“I knew from the beginning I had feelings for Lexie,” Fletcher interrupted me. “I shouldn’t have ever gotten involved with you.”
“And for the record,” I said. “Candace has been telling me for weeks to let you in on the secret!”
Candace slapped her own forehead and groaned.
Marisol’s eyes darted to Candace. “You knew about this?” When she opened and closed her mouth, offering no explanation, Marisol groaned. “You’re my oldest friends. Lexie, we’re in business together. I trust you with everything. Or, I did.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Candace said, trying to reach for her hand.
Marisol hid her hand behind her back. “Don’t touch me.” She pulled her purse up on her shoulder and raised her chin at me. “I don’t even know what to say. I don’t think I can forgive you for this.”
My mouth dropped. I’d expected anger, not exile. “Wait, I—”
She turned on her heel, and darted from the room. Candace offered me a knowing glance, then charged after her, calling her name.
I felt like a terrible friend, even in my still-partially-stoned-and-disoriented state. This wasn’t how I treated friends. This wasn’t how I conducted myself. I’d hurt someone who’d been by my side through college, my divorce and the building of my dream company, and I’d just obliterated her confidence. Crumpling, I pulled my blankets up around my face and gave into my emotion while everyone looked on. My family’s gaze was heavy as I sobbed. All their love and support from just minutes ago had melted into awkwardness and judgment. Two emotions I was just plain tired of.
