Fight with Me Page 42
Well, hell.
“Hey.” I walk over to the side of the hospital bed and take a few more pictures of Natalie and Olivia, then set the camera aside and sit on the bed next to them. “You did good, friend.”
“Thank you. So did you. Thank you for reminding Luke to breathe before he passed out.”
We both laugh, and I know that’s one moment I’ll never let him forget. “That’s what I’m here for.” I tuck a spare strand of hair behind Nat’s ear and grin down at the baby. “She’s so pretty, Nat. I mean, how can she not be with parents who look like you guys do, but seriously, she’s gorgeous.”
“I think so too. I’m a mommy, Jules.”
“And I’m an auntie again! Oh my God, that’s cool.” We grin stupidly at each other. “Okay, so, when did you get a tat on your jay-jay?”
She shrugs and adjusts the blanket around Olivia. “About two years ago. And it’s not on my jay-jay, which I’m pretty sure is not the official medical term for that part of my anatomy.”
“Wanna tell me what it says?”
“Nope.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what any of them say?”
“Probably.”
“Okay.” Enough tattoo talk. “Can I hold her for a minute before I go?”
“Of course! Here.” She hands me the small bundle and scoots over on the bed a little so we can curl up together.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
“Sore, but the drugs are delightful. I am looking forward to getting my old body back.”
“You didn’t get any stretch marks, you bitch.”
She smiles smugly. “Lots of shea butter and yoga. Remember that.”
“I’m not doing babies.” I shake my head adamantly. No way.
“Right, says the woman snuggling with a baby right now.”
“I can snuggle with babies. They don’t have to come from my body.” I shake my head again and smile as Olivia makes a sucky motion with her lips.
“She might be hungry.”
“I’m hungry,” Nat responds. “Can you call the nurse? I want mashed potatoes and gravy. Stat.”
“So much for getting your old body back,” I smirk and push the call button.
“Don’t be a bitch. I just had a baby. I can have whatever I want.”
***
Luke comes back with our parents while all the siblings are still waiting their turn for a quick visit in the waiting room, and I decide it’s a good time to sneak out. I know that my mom will make sure that everyone keeps their visits to a minimum so Luke and Nat can enjoy some alone time with their daughter, and so Nat can rest.
I make it down to the small empty waiting room that I called Nate from earlier and I’m suddenly flooded with emotion. I can’t stop the tears from falling down my face, and I’m crying so hard my knees buckle.
I collapse into a chair and hold my face in my hands, my elbows on my knees, and let the tears flow.
“Hey, what’s wrong, bean?” I gasp and look up, and there’s my brother, Matt, in the doorway. He’s called me string bean since we were kids.
I can’t speak to him. Seeing his calm, kind face makes me cry harder, and before I know it, he’s kneeling before me and pulling me into a big hug, stroking my back.
“It’s okay. Cry it out.”
I’m not a crier, but it feels like that’s all I’ve done over the past few weeks. I don’t know what to do with all of these new emotions running through me.
Finally, the tears stop, and Matt hands me a box of Kleenex from a nearby table.
“What was that all about?” he asks as I blow my nose. He sits in the chair beside me.
“I’ve been so worried about Natalie and the baby all day, and I’m exhausted, and I was mean to Nate on the phone, and I just love that baby so much, and I hate crying.”
Matt chuckles and strokes my back again. “Hey, it’s okay. Having babies is exhausting, even for the helpers. Nat and Olivia are fine, Nate will get over it, and you just need to sleep.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I sit back and look over at my handsome brother. Of all of us, he’s the only one with darker hair, but he’s as tall as my other brothers, and just as built. He’s a Seattle cop, and he’s badass in a calm, controlled way. He doesn’t have Caleb’s temper or Will’s arrogance. He’s quiet. But he will fuck you up if he needs to.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I was going to pop in and see the baby, say congratulations, and then head in to work.”
“Working night shift?” I ask.
“Yeah, I picked up some extra shifts.” He stands and helps me to my feet. “Feel better?”
“I do, thanks. I’m going to go home and sleep off this weird mood.”
“Okay, drive safe, bean.”
“You too.” I kiss his cheek and head for home.
***
My bed feels delicious. And empty. I settle in, ready to go to sleep early, and grab my phone. Should I call Nate and apologize for being a raging bitch, or just text him and talk to him tomorrow?