Promised (19 page)

I believe the gamble’s worth the risk because this is the life I want with the guy I love. But I’m going to lose Dani. She was hurt and hormonal and that’s why she said what she did, but it still burned. And even after three weeks, it still does. I’ve always supported her and now when I need her support the most, she doesn’t give it. I understand how hard it’ll be not seeing each other. Hell, she’s one of the only reasons I even considered going through with the marriage to Shay, but she has Adam and the family to help her when I’m gone.

The phone goes off again. I hit ignore, again, and turn off the ringer.

I decide I need a cupcake and a glass of milk to lift my spirits, so I roll out of bed and head to the kitchen. I pass Mom and Dad in living room; they’re cuddled up on the couch watching a movie.

“Want anything from the kitchen?” I ask as I pass. Mom still isn’t talking to me, so she doesn’t respond. Dad looks over his shoulder and gives me a weary smile. “A beer, please, baby girl.” The strain between Mom and me is upsetting him, but he won’t step in because he thinks it’s a woman thing we need to fix on our own. His words, not mine.

“Can do.” I throw back.

I grab Dad’s beer and walk it back out to him, then head back into the kitchen. I pull out a glass and the jug of milk, pouring some, then putting it back in the fridge. I take my glass to the island counter and pop a fresh cupcake out from underneath the cake stand. I’m two bites in when I hear Mom’s cell phone ring.

She walks in the kitchen with the phone to her ear, eyes on me. “Uh-huh. One second.” Then she speaks to me for the first time since the cake tasting, knocking me for a loop. “Dani’s in the hospital in labor. Adam’s out of town working and is trying to get back. He said Dani couldn’t get ahold of you and had to ask a neighbor to take her.”

Not needing to hear anymore, I race out of the kitchen and grab my coat, purse, cell, and shoes. I’m in the car and on my way not even five minutes after the words left Mom’s mouth. I didn’t even take the time to change out of my pajamas. Dani needed me tonight. And because I didn’t let our stupid argument go, I wasn’t there for her. If something happens to her or the baby, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

At the hospital, I head straight to labor and delivery. The nurses at the desk direct me to Dani’s room and I hesitate at the door.
What if she’s mad at me?
She might not want me here now. If she doesn’t, she’ll tell me, but I’ll show her I’m here in case she does.

I knock and push open the door, peeking my head around it. “Can I come in?”

Dani’s and a nurse’s eyes both flicker to me. Dani is doing some weird breathing exercise as she grips on to the rails of the bed. But between breaths, she manages to say. “It’s about time you got your butt here.”

I walk over to stand by her bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer.”

“You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me.” She reaches for my hand and I give it to her freely.

The nurse moves to the end of the bed. I focus on Dani’s face because I do not want to see what’s going on down there. Her face scrunches as the pain hits her again. I rub her back with my free hand as she squeezes my other.

“It’s time.” The nurse says as she pulls off her gloves and heads out of the room. “I’m going to call for the doctor.”

Dani looks at my eyes wide with fear. “No! I’m not ready. Tell them I’m not ready! It’s too early. She’s not supposed to be here for another three weeks.”

“Too late to stop it now, but don’t worry, I’m here with you.” I try to reassure her, though I’m just as scared for her as she is for herself.

“I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re not around anymore.” She says, her voice trembling with both pain and sadness. I don’t get a chance to respond, not that I had a good enough response, because the nurse walks back in with the doctor and another nurse.

I stand my ground, holding Dani’s hand and wiping her brow, encouraging her when needed for the next hour. Lil Wyn finally makes her appearance into the world at 11:33 p.m. One of the nurses takes her over to be cleaned up and the doctor stays at the end of Dani’s bed doing whatever in the world he has to do down there. Dani’s smiling, looking in the direction the baby went; I’m smiling, watching her be so happy.

“Doctor, we need you over here, now.” The nurse calls, shattering our happy little bubble.

“What’s wrong?” Dani calls out, but gets no response. The nurse rushes out of the room with the baby in the warmer and the doctor comes back over to us.

Dani is broken when she asks. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

“We believe she has infant respiratory distress syndrome. We’re putting her on oxygen and an IV and we’ll be monitoring her closely. Usually, with the right treatment, this clears up in a few days.” The doctor explains gently.

“Can I see her?”

“We need to get you finished here and moved to a regular room. Then, when they have her stabilized, a nurse will take you to see her.”

Dani nods, tears coming down her face. The doctor moves to finish what he started at the end of the bed. Dani looks over at me. “Can you call your brother and let him know what’s going on?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” I give her hand a squeeze and release it.

I find my parents and Dani’s in the waiting room. I explain what’s going on to them. Dani’s Mom heads to her room to be by her side and I excuse myself to call Adam.

Once I’m outside in the cool night air, I take a seat on the curb and dial the number. He picks up on the second ring. “Does my baby girl look like me?”

“Where are you?” I ask instead of answering.

“On the road. I’m still about four hours away.” He gets quiet for a second and then asks. “Did something go wrong? Is Dani and the baby alright?” I take in a lung full of the cool air, release it, then I explain what’s going on. I hate that he’s driving when I do it, but I know he wouldn’t pull over for me to explain. That’s why I didn’t even waste the breath asking.

His voice is shaky when he responds. “You stay with my girls and watch over them, Winnie. I’ll be there soon.”

“I will, Addie. Don’t speed. You need to be safe.”

“I need to get to my girls.”

“Yeah, and they need you here in one piece so don’t do anything stupid.” I remind him.

“Sorry, you’re right. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t even want to find out. If it wasn’t for you, Dani would’ve had to go through this with only our parents. And you know how fucking crazy they are.” I know he meant this as a thank you, but it’s like he stabbed a knife in my heart and twisted it for good measure. I can’t leave my family. I love Linc and I want to be with him, but look what happened tonight when I turned my back on Dani. She almost had to go through delivering my niece alone. She wouldn’t have had anyone by her side when she found out about the baby’s health problems. I can’t leave them. We support each other. That’s what Dani and I have always done. I was just complaining about how she wasn’t supporting me and look at what I was planning on doing, leaving her without her best friend’s support for the rest of our lives.

I lean my head down against my knees and let the tears come from the realization that I have to let go of Linc, and my dream of college, and for my tiny niece who is upstairs fighting for her life.

An arm snakes around my shoulders and my head snaps up to find my dad beside me. I wipe at my tears and he squeezes my shoulder. “They’ll be okay. Don’t forget that little girl is a Scott which makes her a born fighter.”

I lean into his side, laying my head on his shoulder. “She gets that from you.”

I feel him kiss the top of my head. “Ah, some would say she got it from you too.”

Tilting my head back I ask. “How so?”

“You may not have fought with your fists like the rest of us, but you’ve been fighting since you were a kid. You fought all of our ideas of what was right for you to be the girl you are today. And though I didn’t support some of those decisions you made, I know they were right for you. Because I couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’ve grown to be.” He wouldn’t be proud if he knew that I was planning on leaving and not marrying Shay, but I guess now he’ll never have to deal with that truth about his daughter.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I whisper.

He scans my face and I have to wonder if he’s seeing more than he should. “You done crying, baby girl?”

“Yeah.” I say, knowing it’s a lie.

“Then let’s go back inside. They moved Dani to a room so hopefully we’ll be able to see Lil Wyn soon.” He stands and holds out his weathered hand to help me up. Hand in hand, we make our way back into the hospital. And I don’t leave Dani’s side again until Adam arrives three and a half hours later.

A week later, Alana Arwyn Scott is released from the hospital with a clean bill of health, weighing in at five pounds three ounces and measuring seventeen and a half inches. With her head full of red hair, just like her momma’s, and blue eyes, just like her daddy’s. She leaves wearing a pale pink dress I gave her. For everyone else, it’s a happy moment. But for me, it’s bitter sweet. I’m happy knowing my niece is healthy and I’ll be in her life, but I’m sad knowing that being in her life means I won’t be in Linc’s.

Now all I have to do is break the news to him. He’ll never forgive me for pushing him away again. Not that it should matter since doing so means I’m giving into a future with Shay, but still, I hate it.

Chapter 27 – Linc

~The Last Piece~

Wyn hasn’t been at school for a week because she’s been at the hospital with her family keeping an eye on the baby. I’ve talked to her through texts and something didn’t seem right, but I chalked that up to her being worried about her niece. But last night, she called me to tell me the baby was being released and asked if we could get away and go to the cabin today. I want to believe she needs to get away for the day because of the week she’s had, but my gut is telling me it’s something else. Something I don’t want to put words to because my heart can’t handle it.

She meets me at my house and we take the Challenger. She holds my hand the whole way there and when I talk to her, she responds, but I can tell her head is somewhere else. I don’t ask where because I know before the day is through I’ll find out.

At the cabin, we unload our supplies from the trunk: a picnic basket, a throw blanket, and fishing supplies. It’s unusually warm for a late April day and I thought I’d take advantage of it by introducing Wyn to something she’s never done before, but mentioned she’d like to try. Wyn takes the throw and basket and I carry the poles and tackle box. Together, we walk down to the lake and set up on the bank.

I prepare the poles and teach her how to cast them out. She gets hers caught in the reeds the first try. But on the second, she does a beautiful cast that reaches the middle of the lake. She looks at me with pride in her eyes and a genuine smile on her face. That smile erases some of the worry that’s pooling in my stomach, but not all.

The lines in the water, she focuses on laying out the blanket and our picnic. There’s leftover fried chicken my mom made the night before, homemade mac n’ cheese, biscuits, apples and strawberries with chocolate dipping sauce for dessert, and a thermos of sweet tea. We tuck into the food and when both of our bellies are beyond full, we lay back on the blanket and watch the clouds, listening for any movement on the lines.

Still looking up at the sky, she threads her fingers through mine. “Thank you for bringing me up here today. I needed this.”

“I’d do anything to put that smile on your face.” I tell her, bringing our joined hands to my lips and kissing them.

“I know.” Is her only response and I note how sad it sounds. I’m gathering the courage to ask her what’s wrong when I hear her pole clicking.

“You got a bite.” I jump up, grab the pole, and hook the fish. “Come here and you can reel it in.”

She’s standing a few feet away from me with a look of fear. She waves her hand in my direction. “Oh, no. You’ve got it so go ahead.”

I suppress my laugh and urge her. “Come here, Wyn. I’ll be right here to help you.”

“Fine.” She huffs and comes over. I guide the pole into her hands and show her what to do. I stand at her back with my hands on her waist while she wrestles the fish in. When it’s close to the bank, I grab the fishing net and scoop it out of the water. She drops the pole and squeals. “I really did it!”

Removing the hook from the fish’s mouth I tell her. “I knew you could.” Then I look up at her with my grin in place and ask. “You want to hold him so I can take your picture?”

She scrunches up her nose in disgust and asks. “Can I kneel beside it instead?”

“Yeah. Get down here and I’ll get my phone.” I tell her, not even trying to stop my laugh this time.

She kneels down by the fish and I snap a couple shots. I hurry to get the fish back in the water. I set up her pole again and she casts it back out. This is how the rest of the day passes; One of us catches a fish, we take a picture, release it, and set the pole up again. In between, we lay on the throw blanket and talk about this and that, but never anything of importance. In the fun of the day, I manage to push down my worry to the point where it’s forgotten.

As the day wears on, the light blue sky grows darker and darker. We ignore it, not wanting to leave our fun. But when the fat drops of rain start pouring down on us, we pack up. We make a run back up the hill to the cabin, laughing and slipping in the wet grass the whole way; we’re drenched by the time we get inside.