Untraceable

by Lindsay Delagair

  “I take it you’re the proud papa,” he said (since Micah hadn’t turned loose of my hand). “You get to do the honors, buddy—cut the cord—just make sure you cut between the clamps.”

  With a trembling hand, Micah separated our son from my body.

  A female EMT was checking our son, who by this point had begun to cry again, “He’s got a two on his Apgar score—looks like a healthy little boy.”

  They loaded me and the baby onto a gurney and were about to push me through the doorway when my mother appeared.

  “Leese, oh God, baby are you okay? Is the baby all right?”

  “Thanks to Doctor Ryan,” I said with a happy, fresh surge of emotions.

  It seemed as if everyone thought they were going to pile into the ambulance with me, but the EMT’s said, no. Only Micah was allowed. The doors closed and we left for the hospital.

  By the time it was dark outside, I was sitting in my hospital bed. A doctor had already given me a couple stitches to repair the tear from Ryan’s hands and the birth. Our son, whom Micah informed me was to have been named Joshua Caleb, would now be named to honor the man who saved Joshua’s life. Although, with a bit of a chuckle, he said Ryan wasn’t getting top billing. The birth certificate read: Joshua Ryan Gavarreen.

  At six pounds and three ounces, he wasn’t as big as predicted, but, then again, he was six weeks early.

  The first doctor to listen to the story of our son’s arrival, stated with absolute certainty that I had been in labor for a couple days. The earlier contractions had been mild—a little unusual but not unheard of—but when I fully relaxed, my body took over, breaking my water in my sleep and intensifying labor. Joshua was fully engaged in the birth canal and ready to arrive. “Thank goodness your friend had a cool head and a little bit of knowledge or this could have ended in disaster.”

  He also said that little Joshua would need to be flown to a neonatal intensive care unit, but then he examined him. “He’s amazingly strong and alert. His lungs are in excellent condition. Other than a slightly lower birth weight, it’s like he’s full term. A strapping fellow,” he remarked, smacking Micah on the back, “like his daddy, I suppose.”

  I was thrilled that my son wouldn’t be flying anywhere, instead the doctor said he saw no reason for Joshua to leave my room.

  I was allowed visitors for a short while. They told me they’d only allow three at a time. Mom, David, and Kimmy were first. David appeared ‘star-struck’ as he watched my mother hold Joshua, cooing and talking with him. I finally understood her pain and why she didn’t want to get engaged to David; it seemed so unfair that a man who studied a baby with so much wonder, would never have children of his own. Mom was more emotional than I’d ever seen her. She was teary as she kept saying over and over, “I love babies, don’t you David?” I was hoping she’d stop because I could tell it was tearing him in two. He was happy for us, but yet he seemed sad. He finally smiled, and picked Kimmy up off the floor so she could get a better view of Joshua’s sleepy face.

  “He’s pretty,” she exclaimed.

  “Handsome,” I corrected her.

  “Beautiful,” Micah corrected me.

  “Perfect!” Mom corrected us all.

  David simply stared.

  CHAPTER thirty-seven

  I was amazed at the resilience of my body. Other than being sore, I felt normal. They said I would be able to leave the next morning, so when the sun rose, I was up shedding my hospital gown for one of the sundresses my mom brought me. Micah was sound asleep in the big recliner next to my bed. It had apparently been a long time since he been able to rest—this morning he was making up for it.

  I packed up my things, brushed my hair, and placed my shoes next to the bed, ready to be out of the hospital environment. I heard Joshua beginning to move in his blanket, so before he could utter a cry, I picked him up and kissed his tiny face, whispering my good-morning to him. I pulled down my left strap and sat back in bed attempting to feed him. I never realized how awkward breastfeeding would be until I tried it last night. I didn’t feel embarrassed by it, but rather I just felt like I wasn’t holding him properly. The nurse had helped me with my first attempt, but it didn’t feel natural. I was pretty certain, if I could get the angle right, nursing should feel natural.

  He was eager this morning, evidently hungry, and he latched on quickly—bad angle and all. Now not only did it feel unnatural, but also uncomfortable, but Joshua seemed content so I decided to stick it out and pray that things would get better.

  I didn’t realize I was grimacing until I heard that deep, wonderful voice beside me asking if it hurt.

  I smiled, and all the muscles in my face relaxed as I stared up into Micah’s curious green eyes, “Yes—it hurts.”

  “You don’t always have to be so brave and strong—and stubborn,” he added. “I’m sure he’d do fine on formula.”

  I puckered my face back into the previous frown, “This is better for him!”

  He smiled and then leaned over and kissed my forehead, “I know; I just wanted to hear what you’d say.” He kissed my ear this time and said, “he’s so beautiful, Annalisa.”

  “So are you going to tell me how you arrived at his name?”

  “I know you’ll hate me for saying this, but I’ve never really believed that I’d make it out of the mafia.”

  “My dad’s going to fix that,” I stated, hoping I sounded sure of that fact when I was more afraid than ever.

  “Let me finish. I started looking in the Bible and I found out that Moses, even though he went from a high position in a pagan land, to a changed man who believed in God, he never made it into the promise land. Joshua wasn’t his son, but it seemed to me anyway that the relationship was similar to a father and son. Joshua and Caleb were the only two, in the original group, to make it into that beautiful place God prepared for his people. I want our son to make it, even if I don’t. That’s how I came up with his name.”

  “As soon as this last thing is behind us, you will,” I said, still horribly afraid of his meeting with Sharon. “I think that was an incredible thing for you to change his middle name.”

  “I’ll never be able to tell Ryan how grateful I am for what he did, but—”

  “Micah,” I stopped him.

  “Hmm?”

  “He knows—trust me, he knows.”

  “So I guess I’ll just have to save Caleb for our next baby,” he teased.

  “No you don’t—those naming rights are mine!”

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep getting you pregnant until you let me name one Caleb.”

  I kissed his lips as he cuddled me and the baby in his arms. “Deal.”

  I expected Mom and David to be the ones to pick us up from the hospital, but, to my surprise, Ryan rounded the corner as I was filling out the dismissal paperwork.

  “So, where’s my boy?” he teased as he entered the room. Micah had been holding him while I finished filling out the forms, but Ryan was quick to put out his hands, motioning to Micah to pass him off.

  I noticed the reluctance, but Micah’s hesitation was brief as he fussed at Ryan about the proper way to hold him.

  “I know how to hold him,” Ryan said rather smugly as he secured the baby in the cradle of his arm and drew him to himself. “Hello little Ryan,” he said simply to vex Micah a bit.

  “It’s Joshua,” Micah said, taking the bait.

  “I’m your Godfather,” Ryan said ignoring Micah’s correction.

  “I never said you were—”

  “Yeees, I am. Yeees, I am,” he prattled in baby talk.

  “I thought Mom was coming,” I said, hoping to stop the baby-talk; it was just so weird to hear Ryan using that voice.

  “I talked them into letting me and your dad come get you. You know that man does not like to be told what to do!”

  “You were bossing my dad?” I chuckled.

  “Nooo,” he said (and I could tell by the way he said it that he knew it would never
be a good idea for him to boss around the man who had the power to remove his untouchable status), “A lady down at the front desk snapped at him when he said we were going up to pick you up from the maternity ward. And she was like, ‘where’s your baby seat?’ and he’s like, ‘my daughter will just hold him.’ Oh my God, that lady came unglued on him! She said he would not get to take you out of here without a baby seat properly fastened in the car.”

  “Did he have to leave to go buy one?”

  “No. Your mom bought one, but she put it in the trunk. I guess she figured she would put it in the seat later. When I left, that lady down there was barking at him about the fact that he didn’t get the seat in right. He was cussing like a mafia member,” Ryan laughed. “I don’t think anyone has ever told that man he had to do something. Geez, he was pissed.”

  Right about that moment, my dad came around the corner. Ryan was right; his face was beet red and the steam was nearly visible rising from his ears. I could hear him mumbling, something, something, ‘bitch’, something, something, ‘damn bitch.’

  We were all trying hard not to laugh.

  “Just look at your grandpa,” Ryan was saying, tilting the baby toward my dad, “come on, we gotta get him to smile, yeees we do,” he said falling right back into baby talk.

  My dad wasn’t impressed, but he did finally smile when he actually looked at Joshua. The smile immediately vanished when he looked back up at us, “Let’s get the hell out of here before I lose my temper.”

  We were prepared to comply, until a nurse shouted, “No, you’re not leaving here like that.”

  My dad blew off a string of obscenities at the woman.

  Her mouth was gapped open, truly shocked at his tirade.

  “What now?!” he finally ground out. “Do we need a freaking baby seat to get him downstairs?!”

  “N-no,” she stammered, pulling a wheelchair out from behind the desk. “She needs to sit and let someone push her downstairs.”

  “Oh no, that’s okay,” I started to say, but she brought the wheelchair to me anyway.

  “It’s hospital policy, and besides I know you feel good right now, but you haven’t walked ten feet. You could pass out and I don’t think anyone,” she stated, finally mustering her courage as she gave my dad a blistering stare, “wants to see you hit the floor.”

  “Sit down, Annalisa,” he ordered. “Thank you,” he responded as he turned toward her. It almost sounded sincere.

  We were moving away from her as I heard Ryan apologize and say it’d been a rough morning.

  When the elevator doors closed, my dad turned to Ryan.

  “Never apologize for me. Understood?” His authority level at the moment was evident in his tone.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ryan was, wisely, quiet after that.

  CHAPTER thirty-eight

  We drove to the Holiday Inn where Mom was impatiently waiting for her grandson to arrive. Well, perhaps she was happy to see me too, but I think Joshua was the reason for the big smile on her face. My father decided to return to the beach house until it was time for Micah to call Sharon.

  Micah tried to dissuade the rest of us from staying, saying he would prefer we get on a plane and go to Nova Scotia for a few days. Mom was ready to go home to Palm Beach, but neither he nor David thought that was a good idea until this business with Sharon was finalized.

  Micah and I settled into the adjoining room to my mother’s for a little private time while Mom enjoyed Joshua. We cuddled on the king-sized bed holding each other and talking for however long the peace and quiet would last.

  “Can’t you just call her and tell her the game is over and that her dad is alive?”

  “I wish I could, but if she thinks, even for one second, that Caprizio knows what she’s been doing, she’ll bolt. God only knows where she’ll go, but I guarantee you at some point, whether it’s ten days from now or ten years from now, she’ll show back up and try to wreck our lives, again.”

  I could see his point. I did not want to deal with her ever again, but, even with as much reason as I had to hate her, I was torn on the idea of my dad having someone shoot her. How could I have asked Micah to never take another human life, and then turn right around and tell my father that I wanted her gone—permanently?

  “Are you feeling okay? You’re looking pale,” he said, resting his lips for a long moment on my forehead.

  I knew what he was doing; he was taking my temperature. The doctor wanted me on antibiotics since Ryan didn’t have time to ‘scrub up’ before delivery, but I knew whatever I took would be passed to Joshua. I told him I’d be fine, but he gave me a prescription anyway in case I started showing signs—like running a fever. “I just need some rest, and I’m starting to feel more soreness than earlier this morning.”

  “You should get some sleep. Your mom said Joshua will be okay for about another hour before you feed him. Close your eyes, baby.”

  For once, I didn’t argue. My eyes closed and I drifted away.

  Micah and I both woke to the sensation of gentle pressure on the bed. I opened my eyes to see my mom sitting down with the baby. “Sorry, sweetheart, but if you won’t let me give him formula, then you need to wake up. He’s getting fussy.”

  This time, I actually felt like I was getting the hang of it, even if it was still uncomfortable. I did find it funny though when David came through the doorway that connected our rooms. He blushed a dark shade of maroon and then turned to leave.

  “You’re okay,” I said, catching him before he could vanish. “This isn’t something dirty.”

  He turned around slowly, never making eye contact as he walked toward the bed, staring at his feet the whole way. “I was just going out to pick up some lunch and I thought I’d ask…” he glanced up and then immediately down again. “You should really have the door closed between our rooms,” he blurted.

  “Well I think you’re just going to have to get used to this because I plan on feeding him this way until he’s at least one.”

  “I’ll stay away then until his first birthday,” he teased, but he still wouldn’t watch the baby nurse.

  “Ah look,” Micah stated in genuine wonder, “Joshua is smiling.”

  And he truly was. It was so cute. His eyes were wide open and a smile was pulling the corners of his tiny mouth. David was suddenly rapt, looking all big eyed, and grinning like an idiot—and then Joshua lost suction and my nipple came out of his mouth.

  “Ah, geez,” he said turning and walking away. “I’ll just bring you back whatever licks—“ he screwed up and he knew it, “I mean, whatever looks good.”

  “No onions,” I giggled as he disappeared. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him be a sissy about anything.”

  Mom and Micah both laughed.

  I’d had a short rest, fed and changed Joshua (who was now sound asleep on my bed) and felt ready to stretch my legs. Micah had taken off with David and Jonathan. I had a feeling he was getting ready for his ‘meeting.’

  Ryan was down by the pool on a lounger, intermittently dozing and watching Kimmy play. Matt and Bev were supposed to be joining us (now that they knew most of what had transpired). They were supposed to bring Matt Junior for Kimmy to play with for a while. It felt strange for life to be semi ‘normal,’ like we were on some short vacation, when it was not that way at all. But, for Kimmy’s sake, we would keep up the façade until we could go home and truly resume our lives.

  “What are you doing downstairs?” Ryan questioned.

  I was passing the pool area, heading for the corridor that led to the parking lot.

  “I need something to drink besides the bottle waters; I think my body needs sugar right now. Can I get you anything?”

  He rose from the lounger and headed my direction. “I’ll go with you. I want something but I don’t know what. Kimmy,” he said, looking where she had wrapped herself around the pole to the stairs. “Stay in the shallow end until I get back.”

  She stuck her
tongue out at him, “I can swim!”

  “Yeah, you can, but do it in the shallow end until I get back.”

  “You know,” I said quietly as we headed down the corridor, “she swims like an Olympian.”

  “Yeah, well swimming like an Olympian doesn’t help if she hits her head, or gets a cramp.”

  “God,” I laughed, “you are such a mother-hen!”

  We turned the corner to the small alcove in the outer corridor where the ice machine and vending machines were kept.

  I had my drink in hand, and Ryan had just put his money in the machine when I heard a female voice say, “Hmm, now what do we have here?”

  I knew who it was; my heart stopped.

  I turned to see Sharon and an unfamiliar man standing there—the man had a gun in his hand and it was pointed at Ryan.

  “Do you want me to kill him here or—”

  “No, not yet. I don’t want a shot to alert anyone. Besides,” she said with that depraved smile on her face, “he might be exactly what we need to keep her cooperative. Am I right, Leese, or should we splatter his chest all over the concrete wall?”

  “No, no, don’t hurt him. I’ll go with you, just leave him—”

  “Not a chance in hell. You’re both coming with us. If you help me out, maybe I’ll feel generous and only kill you. Get in the car,” she said as she motioned us to a new, blue Chevy Camaro. “Hurry up!” she growled as we climbed into the back seats.

  The next thing I knew, the tires were screeching across the pavement as we tore out of the lot. “Now,” she purred as her companion turned the car onto the main road, “do you want to explain to me how everyone got so damn chummy?”

  I just stared at her like I was stupid, hoping she’d clarify what she knew so I didn’t accidently reveal too much.

  “Oh,” she said, finally paying closer attention to me, “you must have popped the little bastard out. That must have been fun for Giovanni,” she quipped. “Did it survive?” she asked with a malevolent emphasis on ‘it.’