Infinity. (Infinity Series) (18 page)

I limp back into our bedroom, and flop down on the sitting room couch that’s just recently been returned from storage. Propping my leg up on the armrest, I place the peas over the most tender part. I have to stifle a moan. The cold feels so good against the burning heat of my injury it borders on sexual. I grab the throw blanket from the arm of the couch, and cover myself with it as much as I can. Pancho makes himself comfortable on the ground next to me and begins to snore.
It must be nice to feel that content.

As I drift off to sleep, I turn over in my head just how much more pain I can tolerate. I refuse to take the painkillers that they’ve prescribed to me for obvious reasons, but Aleve isn’t cutting it anymore. Blessedly, the ice dulls the pain enough that I can sleep, or maybe I’m just so worn out that I fall into a coma.

Charlie

“Put the baby down and let’s go,” I order Brad.

He’s holding Ainsley above his head and wiggling her back and forth.

“Guncle Brad loves you to pieces. Yes. He does. Yes he does.” Then he says it again. And again. And again.

I swear to God, if this baby’s first word is anywhere close to Guncle or Brad, I’ll smother him in his sleep, or Colin just might beat me to it.

He reluctantly hands Amy his goddaughter, and kisses her five more times on the head before he’ll even acknowledge my presence. He puts his hand on his hip, finally turning to me. “Come on, Doctor Buzz Kill. Let’s go fix bones.”

“If you can’t learn to leave in a timely manner, I’m going to stop letting you come over when we have to be somewhere.” I shrug my shoulders as I walk into the utility room to grab my purse.

“The patient’s unconscious. Don’t be such a Scrooge. It’s not my fault my goddaughter is ridiculously precious,” he hollers behind me.

I walk back through the living room and give Ainsley one more goodbye kiss. Amy works with her to wave “bye-bye” to us. It’s so cute because she opens and closes her hand in front of her face as if she’s waving to herself. My heart floods with love, and a strong desire not to leave her. I went back to work two months after she was born, but I’m still not used to telling her goodbye.

“Call me if you need me, Amy,” I instruct.

She kisses Ainsley’s cheek. “We’ll be just fine.”

Miguel and Jamie are waiting for us outside. The number of threats that Colin and I receive has gone up drastically since Dallas fell below a .500 record. Jamie started traveling with me exclusively at Colin’s request after we had the near kidnapping attempt. I shudder at the memory. I can’t believe how close some crazy got to our home. Our daughter. I was glad Colin waited until the guy had been arrested before he told me.

But, now that Colin has angry fans, Miguel has joined my security detail. When I demanded to see the specific threats, Colin’s face grew pale, and assured me that I did not need to. For once, I didn’t argue, and took his angst at face value. They’re bad, and probably directed toward Ainsley and me.

Brad and I slide into the back of the black Range Rover with limousine-tint on the back windows. Miguel drives, and Jamie takes the passenger seat. This has become such a part of my life that I no longer blink at being chauffeured, followed around my job, and not let out of the large mens’ sight.

Brad starts gushing about a new restaurant that he and Carter tried last night. Apparently, it’s the new place to go and be seen, so Colin and I will not touch it with a ten-foot pole.

“How’s Que Bee?” Brad asks as he turns towards me, adjusting his seat belt.

“Do you want to hear ‘fine,’ or do you want the real answer?” I ask, avoiding his gaze by looking out the window.

“Let’s go with the real answer for five hundred, Alex,” he quips, chuckling at his joke.

I look at him and decide to unload my worries on the best assistant in the world. “Physically, his ankle still swells after every game and most practices. He doesn’t complain, but I know that he’s hurting. He walks with a limp most nights.”

“You’re a doctor. What do you think?” Brad asks, genuinely interested in my opinion. He leans forward as if to hear me better.

I sigh. “It’s not going to get any better. He had a compound fracture, and has a steel rod supporting the bone. If he were my patient, I’d tell him to play football as long as he can live with the pain, and when he can’t take it any longer, then it’s time to quit.”

“And as his wife?” Brad asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I tell him that I love him. What else can I do?” I shrug. “Mentally, he seems spread so thin. He’s trying to be at home as much as he can. The team is demanding more and more out of him, trying to get this season back on track. His sponsors are asking for him to step up his public appearances because of his successful last season.”

I stop and swallow hard to keep my tears at bay. Brad reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Whatever new security threat that is keeping him up at night is bad. He doesn’t know it, but I’ve woken up to him racing upstairs to check on Ainsley just to come back and fall on the sitting room sofa, taking deep breaths and sweating profusely, as if he’s having a stress attack. All winning the Super Bowl and having a baby did was make us bigger targets for the press and the crazies.”

Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “I think that the hardest thing to watch, though, is that he’s lost the gleam in his eye. His playfulness is gone. He walks around like a man who has the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. Although, he’s still so sweet with Ainsley.”

As the car exits the freeway for the hospital, Brad asks, “How did he take you missing his home game today?”

I think that’s the crux of the problem. When I apologized to Colin and told him that I had to go into the hospital because my specialty was needed for this particular patient, he just shrugged his shoulders, and kissed my forehead. Colin of last season would have thrown a fit, and at least asked if there were another surgeon that could fill in for me. Then he would have pouted, and tried using some sort of sexual diversionary tactic to try and persuade me.

“He said that he understood.”

Brad’s mouth drops into a frown. “That sounds nothing like him.”

“I know.” I nod my head in agreement. “I’m hoping that taking Ainsley trick-or-treating tomorrow will cheer him up.”

Brad and I found her a precious butterfly costume. She loves wearing it, and laughs like crazy when I show her how cute she is in the mirror. We discuss how darling she’s going to look until we arrive in the hospital parking lot.

Brad adjusts his clothing once we get out of the car. The man is trying to make green scrubs look good. There’s no point. I flash him my
you’ve got to be kidding
look. His auburn hair is in a perfectly gelled mess. “Just in case your media fans are waiting for us. I like to look good when I’m accused of stealing you away from Que Bee.”

I roll my eyes, not caring in the slightest what I look like. I gave up that fight long ago.

Jamie is on guard, and looking around us. He flanks me on my right side while Miguel takes the left. I’m ushered quickly through the parking lot, with Brad following behind me. No media today. I quip to Brad, “Looks like you got pretty for nothing.”

He just laughs.

I’m looking forward to this surgery. The patient was injured in a motorcycle accident. It’s going to be a challenge to put him back together, but I feel pumped to try.

My phone rings in my purse right before we walk through the sliding glass doors. It’s Amy’s ringtone. I quickly grab it to see what the emergency is, hoping that Ainsley is okay. I really don’t want to hand this case off to another doctor.

“What’s up Amy?” I ask.

She’s crying, and my heart falls to my stomach. “Oh God. What’s wrong with my baby?” I scream into the phone. The four of us stop walking. Brad, Miguel, and Jamie surround me, staring, with concern deeply etched in their faces.

Breath doesn’t leave my body while I wait for her reply.

“Ainsley’s okay,” she sobs. My next fear is Colin, so the split second of relief that I just felt is replaced by gut-wrenching terror.

“Colin,” I sob, and Brad takes the phone away from me.

“Amy, it’s Brad. What’s going on? You’re scaring Caroline to death,” he says with a protective edge that I’m not used to hearing present in his voice.

There’s a long pause. Brad is making calming hand gestures, as if Amy can see him. I stand there with my nails digging into my palms, teetering on the edge of a precipice.
What’s making my sister so upset?

“Okay, sweetie. Okay. We’re coming home. Get Ainsley packed. We’ll be there in twenty.” He instructs her.

I stand there on the razor edge of fear, staring at Brad. He pulls me into his arms, and begins rubbing my back. “Your dad has suffered a massive heart attack. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

****

I’ve made the drive from Dallas to Houston hundreds of times. It’s a long stretch of flat highway that passes through a few towns. There’s nothing particularly interesting to look at. Traffic flows well. Everyone goes about seventy miles per hour so I can set the cruise control and just drive. And think.

Today, however, we’re in Ainsley’s tank. I’m driving like a crazy person with my hazard-lights flashing. Brad is in the passenger seat on the phone with Methodist Hospital where they took my dad trying to get an update. Amy is in the backseat, giving Ainsley a pacifier, attempting to soothe her until we arrive in Houston, and I can feed her. None of us thought to grab the extra bags of breast milk or snacks before we raced out of the house.

I left security in Dallas because we all couldn’t fit in this car. Colin will be livid, but he’s just going to have to get over it.

Brad says into the phone. “Okay. Thanks for the update. I appreciate it, Leslie. Make sure you tell your brother hello for me.”

When he hangs up, he says, “Doctor Collins is still in surgery. That’s all that I’ve got. Sorry ladies.”

I let out a sigh, and grip the steering wheel, willing the eighteen-wheeler in front of me to move to the right lane so I can pass him. Finally, I get sick of waiting, and pull an action-movie worthy maneuver to scoot past.

The jerk of the car makes Ainsley cry… of course.

“Look, he’s in surgery. Let’s stop at the next exit so you can feed her. There’s nothing you can do at this point.” Brad tries reasoning with me.

As Ainsley’s screams pick up, I know that he’s right. We take the exit for Buffalo, Texas, and pull into an Exxon station. Amy volunteers to go inside and buy us drinks while I feed little Miss Angry Pants. I no longer cover myself in front of Brad. He knows to look away until Ainsley is settled.

“Have you told Colin yet?” Brad asks once I have Ainsley situated.

“No. I want to wait until after half-time. I’m afraid that if he finds out before he’ll leave, or not be focused on the game. He has so much pressure on him right now. As you said, there’s nothing any of us can do,” I reply as I reposition Ainsley. She’s getting too big for me to keep nursing her. She’s going to be tall, like her daddy.

Brad scrolls around on his phone, and says, “Looks like half-time is almost over. Want me to call Jenny, and ask her to get in touch with the team?”

Nodding my head, it does cross my mind that I didn’t even ask Brad what the score is.

****

You wouldn’t think that the Houston Medical Center would be crowded on a Sunday, but we sit in traffic for ten minutes just trying to turn into the hospital’s parking garage. As I impatiently tap my finger on the gear shift, my phone rings. Amy and I both take a huge gulp of air and wait while Brad speaks to whomever is on the other end.

“Thanks for telling me,” Brad says. “Yes, I’ll let them know.”

Brad hangs up as I’m taking the parking garage ticket from the machine. “That was my friend, Leslie.” He pauses, and swallows the lump in his throat.

I know instantly that my dad didn’t make it. A giant hand reaches into my chest and grips my heart, squeezing it so tightly I’m not sure it can pump blood any longer.

I gasp as Brad confirms my fear. “I’m sorry, but there was nothing they could do.”

Amy drops her head into her hands and sobs. It’s a gut-wrenching wail that further breaks my heart.
My poor baby sister.

I stare ahead, focused on doing one thing at a time. Right now, I need a place to park this tank. Yes. That’s my focus. I’ll think about my father passing away in a moment.

By some miracle, I spot an open place on the second floor. Once we’re parked, Brad rushes to comfort me, but I wave him off and point at Amy. My next focus is to take care of my daughter. I walk to Ainsley’s car seat and carefully unlatch her, and cradle her against my chest. Her warm little body snuggles against me, calming me instantly. She’s got a large happy grin on her beautiful face, and reaches out to pull a piece of my hair that has escaped from my ponytail.
How sad, baby girl, you’ll never get to know your grandfather. He didn’t even live long enough for you to say his name.

Grabbing a blanket out of her diaper bag, I throw it over her. It isn’t particularly cold outside, but I know from lots of experience that hospitals are always chilly. I don’t want my baby unhappy. My focus is to make sure that Ainsley is comfortable.

I’ve dealt with death before. My chosen profession exposes me to it more than, let’s say, Colin’s profession exposes him. I always wondered how I’d handle it when I lost one of my parents. Would I fall to the ground and cry uncontrollably like I’ve seen others do? Would I politely thank the doctor delivering the devastating news as if they baked me a fresh batch of chocolate-chip cookies? I do none of these things.

What I do instead is go into doctor mode. Let’s fix this. Let’s deal with the crisis. I decide to make a list of what has to be done.

1. Console my sisters.

2. Console my step-mom, Carmen.

3. Check on Mom. How’s she going to feel about her ex-husband passing away?