Sparrow (19 page)

“Seriously?” 
I look at the puppy squirming in Addison’s hands.  There is no way I can
resist.  I reach out and take her in my big paws, bringing her to my chest. 
She licks my chin, then burrows against me, pressing the top of her head to the
side of my neck.  Her little body is warm.

Which
reminds me I’m standing outside in February without shoes.

Supporting
the puppy with one hand, I hold out the other toward Addison.  “Do you want to
come inside?”

She
looks uncertain.  “Are you still upset with me?”

I’m
not.  I got what was bothering me off my chest.  “Sparrow.  My toes are getting
frostbite.  Please come inside.”

She
glances at my feet.  “What the…!  I didn’t realize…”  She grabs my hand and
starts pulling me toward the front door.

Once
in the house I set the puppy on the kitchen floor.  She starts to explore, sniffing
her way around the perimeter of the room.  I love the way she’s unsteady on the
tile, her little back legs sliding a bit when she tries to run.

“So?” 
Addison comes up behind me.  “Is she a keeper?”

I
turn toward her.  “I think you knew that when you brought her over here.”

She
smiles and it reaches her eyes.  “I’m glad.  I’d hate for her to end up in a
shelter.”  She crouches down and calls the dog over.  “Hey, pretty girl.  Do you
think you want to stay here?”

The
puppy turns, trots back to Addison, and licks her hand before getting her ears
scratched.  “You’re going to need some things.”  Addison looks up at me.  “Want
me to help you shop?”

“Right
now?”

“If
you’re not busy.”  She slowly stands.  “That is, if you’re not still mad at
me.  You never answered my question.”

I
study her face.  “No.  I’m not upset.  We just…we need to figure some things
out.”  For example, I was incredibly honest with her just a few minutes ago and
I have no idea how she’s feels about it.  I kissed her.

I
kissed her.
 
Why didn’t she push me away?

“I
know,” she says quietly.  “If we spend the afternoon together, maybe we can
work those things out.”

I
nod.  “Let me shower and we’ll get out of here.”

Her
shoulders relax and I’m rewarded with a small smile.  “Okay.”

I
start to walk away and she stops me.  “Wait.  I’m not keeping you from any
Valentine’s Day plans, am I?”

I
turn around.  “No.  You?”

She
shakes her head.  “Derek’s –”

“Working?”
I guess.  After all, it’s a ‘small’ holiday.

“Yeah.”

Did
I imagine that or did her face just fall a little?

I
rush through my shower and quickly dress afterward.  I don’t want Addison to be
bored in my dull house, although she does have the puppy to occupy her time. 
The realization hits me that, even though we weren’t speaking, she still
thought of me when she saw the dog.  I know she knew I would love it.  There’s
no way I could turn down her offer, especially if I knew the puppy was headed
to a shelter.  It annoys me that Derek wouldn’t allow Addison to keep the dog
if she wanted.  Apparently, he doesn’t have a soft spot for animals.

Mentally,
I add that to my list of his shitty traits.

When
I walk out into the living room, I find Addison sitting on my ratty recliner
with the dog at her feet.  “Ready to go?”

She
nods.  “Just let me use the restroom before we leave.  I swear I pee about
fifty times a day.”

I
make a face.  “Why do girls always talk about going to the bathroom?  Ashley told
me she had to piss on New Year’s Eve.”

“Sorry,”
she laughs as she walks past me.

While
I wait for Addison, I decide to play with my new roommate.  I sit on the floor
and call her to me.  When she comes, I push her body over and rub her belly. 
“Well, you were a surprise,” I say.  “What are we going to call you?  We’ll
come up with an awesome name, I promise.  You can be the Dayton Landscaping
mascot.”  I kind of like that idea.  I can bring her to work with me.  The guys
will get a kick out of her.  She’ll be spoiled rotten.

Several
minutes go by before I realize Addison is taking an awfully long time in the
bathroom.  My legs are starting to fall asleep under me on the floor, so I
stand and stretch, then decide to check on her.

“Hey.” 
I tap one knuckle on the door.  “You okay?”

It
takes a second before I hear her voice.  It wavers.  “Can…can you bring me my
phone?”

Alarms
sound in my head.  “Sure.  Where is it?”

“In
my bag.  In the truck.”

I
make it to her truck and back in two seconds flat.  I knock on the bathroom
door again, winded.  “I got your purse.”

I
watch the handle turn as she cracks the door.  “Thanks,” she whispers.  I start
to hand her the bag, but stop when I notice her face is covered in red
splotches.

“What’s
wrong?” I ask.

She
shakes her head as a tear falls from the corner of her eye.

“Addison?”

She
takes her purse and tries to shut the door.  Worried, I put my hand out to stop
it.  I’m a little too forceful, because the door ends up swinging open. 
Addison tries to shut it again, but not before I catch a glimpse of something
reflected in the mirror.

The
toilet is full of blood.

My
panicked eyes meet hers.  I can’t find words.  I take a step toward her, and
she pushes me back.

“I
have to call my doctor.”  She wipes stray tears from her cheeks.  “Please give
me a minute.”

I
nod and back out of the room, closing the door behind me.  My heart races. 
She’s losing the baby.

Oh
my god.

She’s
losing the baby.
 
What can I do?  Should I call for help?

I
lean against the wall and anxiously wait.  I can hear her talking, but can’t make
out the words.  It feels like an hour has passed since she first went into the
bathroom.  The puppy wanders down the hallway, but I don’t move.  I’m frozen to
this spot until Addison opens that door.

As
the dog rounds the corner into my bedroom, the toilet flushes.  A lump forms in
my throat.  I never knew that sound could represent something so final.

Tentatively,
the door opens.  Springing upright, I search Addison’s face.  “What do we do?”

Her
voice is thick.  “My doctor wants me to go to the hospital.”

“Done,”
I say and leave her side to grab my keys.  I’m quickly ushering her off the
porch steps when her sad eyes meet mine.  “You can slow down.  There’s nothing
they can do to stop it.”

I
ignore her.

“Kyle.”
 She stops walking.  “What about the dog?”

Damn.

“Hold
on,” I say and run back inside to round up the puppy.  I sprint next door to my
neighbor’s house, and luckily, she’s home.  I explain I have an emergency, and
she lets me leave the dog with her.

By
the time I get back, Addison is sitting in my truck.  I hop up into the
driver’s seat.  “I told you to hold on.  I would have helped you.”

Silent
tears wind down her face making my heart feel like lead.  Her eyes are rimmed
in red, and her nose is the same shade.  I slide over to her side and wipe her
tears away with my thumbs.  It does no good because they come right back.

“You’ll
be okay,” I say.  “Everything will be okay.”

She
nods.

“I’ll
drive.  You call your husband.”

She
nods again.

I
press a quick kiss to her forehead, move back over to my side of the cab, and start
the engine.

When
we make to the emergency room, I wait with Addison as she checks in at the
desk.  The nurse takes down her name, asks the reason she’s there, and then
hands her a clipboard with paperwork to complete.  She tells Addison to have a
seat in the waiting area, and she’ll be called back as soon as someone can get
to her.

Are
you fucking kidding me?

Addison
is literally losing a life and that’s the best they can do?

I
try to remain calm as I follow her over to some empty chairs.  We take a seat,
and Addison starts to fill out the forms.  Her hand shakes as she writes.  When
she gets to the section regarding insurance, she balances the clipboard and her
purse on her lap, while at the same time looking for her wallet.  I’m just
about to ask her if she needs help when the clipboard slips, hitting the floor
and sending papers flying everywhere.  Addison brings a shaky hand to her
forehead, and I jump up to collect the mess.

“I’ve
got it,” I say as I kneel and pull the forms into a pile.  When I have them
all, I exchange the clipboard for her bag, so it won’t happen again.

As
she continues, I glance around the waiting room.  It seems busy for the morning. 
Multiple people cough and hack behind me.  One little boy looks especially green. 
As minutes pass, more people walk through the sliding doors and check in at the
desk.  I’m starting to get uncomfortable with the idea of being surrounded by
sickness.  I don’t want Addison to catch anything, and I sure as hell don’t
want to, either.

When
she completes the forms, I turn them in at the desk for her.  As I’m walking
back, I notice her pale complexion.  “Are you okay?” I ask as I sit down.  “Are
you in pain?”

“Not
really,” she says.  “Just a few cramps.  Nothing I can’t handle.”

“If
it gets bad, let me know.  I’m not above raising hell to get you seen.”

A
tiny smile forms on her lips.

“Did
you get ahold of Derek?” I ask.

She
shakes her head no.

My
face twists into a concerned scowl.  On the way here, she tried to call him
three times.  First, she tried his cell.  He didn’t answer, and she left a
voice message saying that she needed him, it was important, and to call her immediately. 
Then, she called the office where he works and spoke to the secretary.  She
found out he was with a patient, and she asked that he be told she was headed
to the ER.  After that, when we pulled into the hospital, she tried his cell
again.  No answer.

“How
long do physical therapy appointments normally take?” I ask.

“Depends
on the injury,” she says.

“Still,
doesn’t he check his phone?”

“He
doesn’t take personal calls during appointments.”

Whatever. 
If my wife was pregnant, I’d at least keep my phone on vibrate.

Forty-five
minutes later, Addison adjusts her weight in the uncomfortable plastic seat.  No
Derek and no doctor.  I feel helpless to do anything other than ask her if she’s
okay and hold her hand.  It’s killing me not to pull her into my lap and wipe
away the tears that appear in her eyes.  I want to kiss her and hold her and
try to take away her pain.  I can’t believe she’s had to wait this long.

Finally,
Addison’s name is called.  I walk with her to the double doors, where we step
inside and another nurse introduces himself as Brian.  We’re escorted into a
small room where Brian takes Addison’s temperature and blood pressure.  After
asking some general questions, he leads us further into the hospital where
Addison’s shown into another small room with a bed.  He instructs her to change
into a hospital gown because they will be going to another floor for an
ultrasound in a few minutes.

“Your
husband is welcome to come along,” Brian says.

“Oh,
he’s not my…” Addison stops.

“You’re
not immediate family?” he asks me.

“No. 
I’m a friend.”

He
looks at Addison. “Would you like him to be present?”

Her
eyes search mine.  “I…I’m not sure.”

I
can see the wheels turning in Brian’s head.  “I’ll let you two discuss it
privately.  Press the button next to the bed when you’re ready to go up.”

He
leaves the room, closing the door behind him.  I turn to Addison.  “I don’t
have to go, not unless you need me.”

“I
do need you,” she says.  “It’s just…”

“Your
husband should be here.  I get it.”  I move around the bed.  “I’ll wait in the
lobby.  Ask the nurse if he will come and get me once the test is done.  Just
so I know you’re all right.”

She
nods, but then says, “I don’t want to do this alone.”

Damn
Derek.  Where in the hell is he?

“What
if I stand outside the room while you get the test?  Will that help?”

Tears
form in her eyes again.  “Thank you,” she whispers.

I
step out of the room so she can change.  When she’s ready, Brian appears.  He
has her get into the bed, then pushes her out of the room and into a nearby
elevator.  We take a ride up to the fourth floor and, when we approach our
destination, I squeeze Addison’s hand.  “I’ll be right here.”

She
squeezes my hand back.

After
she disappears behind the door accompanied by Brian and another woman who, I
assume, is the ultrasound tech, I cross my arms and lean against the wall. 
Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to be standing where I am at this very
moment.  I woke up with Jen, fought with Addison, and now I’m in a hospital
awaiting news on a baby that’s not mine.

I’ll
never look at Valentine’s Day the same way again.

Minutes
pass and my vision blurs as I stare at my work boots.  I blink to focus and
then continue to stare at the laces.  There’s not much else to look at in this
dreary hallway.  Plain white walls and evenly spaced doorways stretch in both
directions.  Industrial fluorescent lighting hangs from the ceiling.  A man
dressed in mint green scrubs appears and walks up to a rack hanging on a door. 
He selects a folder, opens it, and enters the room.  The door clicks shut
behind him, and I’m left alone again.  It’s as if time has stopped, and I’m
left to question if I would reverse it or speed it up.  Either way, I want
Addison and her baby healthy, safe, and out of here.

Just
as I start to pace, movement pulls my attention to the right.  When I turn to
look, my entire body tenses.

Derek’s
eyes meet mine, and they instantly flash and harden.  I can tell he’s on edge
by the way he walks; his body looks coiled and stiff.

“What
in the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.

Standing
up straight, I set my jaw.  “Addison needed my help.”

He
stops walking a few feet in front of me.  “Get the fuck out.”

“What?”

“You
heard me.  I don’t want you anywhere near my wife.”

I
hold his stare.  “I think that’s her decision.  She needed help and I was there.”

“Who
was there eight years ago?” Derek sneers.  “Me.  You need to leave.”

“I
told Addison I’d stay.”

Derek
steps closer.  “Don’t push me.”

My
adrenaline spikes.  “Or what?”

“Gentlemen. 
Is there a problem?”

Green
scrubs appear in my peripheral; it’s the man I saw earlier with the file
folder.  I break Derek’s stare.  “No.  There’s no problem.”

“I
disagree,” Derek says.  “I want this man removed.  He’s harassing my wife.”

What
the fuck?

Green
Scrubs’ eyes land on me.  “Is his wife in this room?”  He points to the door.

I
nod.

“Sir,
I’m going to have to ask you to leave.  If there’s an issue with that I can
call security.”

My
pulse pounds behind my ears.  Not because I’m afraid of Derek or being escorted
out, but because Addison said she wanted me here.  I’m worried about her.

“Sir?”
the man says again.  “The exit is this way.”  He extends his hand toward the
elevators.

Under
duress, I take a step.  The last thing Addison needs is a fist fight outside
her door.  I shoot one last hard look at Derek before slowly making my way down
the hall.  Green Scrubs walks with me.

“That’s
not necessary,” I tell him.  “I can show myself out.”

He
nods and stops shy of entering the elevator with me.  As the doors start to close,
I catch a glimpse of Derek’s smug ass.  He’s watching me.  Why isn’t he in the
room with Addison already?  I would have been by her side in a heartbeat,
ex-boyfriend be damned.  I hold his stare and, just as the elevator doors
close, he flips me off.

Yeah.

I’m
not above waiting for him in the parking lot.

~~~~

“I
don’t know how you handled it,” Kevin says.  “I would have been completely
freaked out.”

Reaching
into the fast food bag, I pull out a burger.  “I was.  I still can’t believe it
happened.”  I turn over the food in my hands.  “Did you have no pickle?”

“That’s
me.”  Ashley stops petting the puppy and comes over to the table.  “I had the
curly fries too.”

I
find those in the second bag and hand them to her.

“Seriously,
how are you holding up?” my brother asks me.

I’m
confused.  “Is that why you stopped by with dinner?  To ask me stupid
questions?”

“It’s
not a stupid question.”  Ashley takes a bite of a fry.  “Addison had a
miscarriage at your house.  That has to be strange.”

It
is.  Every time I go into the bathroom my memory flashes an image of what I saw
in the mirror.  I’m sure it will pass; it’s only been a few days.  “All I care
about is that Addison is okay.  Have you talked to her lately?”

Ashley
nods.  “I called this afternoon to make sure she was up and eating.  She
promised me she had some fruit for breakfast.”

I
frown.  “Has she not been eating?”

“She’s
sad.”  Ashley takes a seat.  “I happen to know she doesn’t eat much when she
gets upset.”

My
frown deepens.  I’ve only had contact with Addison once since I left her at the
hospital.  After my run-in with Derek, I left her a voicemail letting her know
I didn’t leave by choice.  I asked her to contact me when she felt up to it.  That
night, she sent me a text message saying she had been admitted.  The baby was
gone, but the doctors said physically she would be okay.  She said she understood
why I left.  She also apologized for sending me a message instead of calling. 
She wasn’t trying to be impersonal; she was trying not to wake Derek.

“I
don’t know how much this will affect her,” Ashley continues.  “This pregnancy
wasn’t planned, and she’s always been hesitant about having kids.  She’s a
strong girl, but still.  Addison’s suffered so much loss with her parents.  Now
this…”  She shakes her head.  “She’s going to need our support, guys.”

My
brother swallows his bite of cheeseburger.  “What about her douche of a
husband?” he asks.

Kevin
hasn’t been a fan of Derek since his actions during the Super Bowl.  No doubt,
it wasn’t necessary for him to drink my beer and kick me out of my seat.  When
I told Kev that he threatened to have me removed from the hospital, it only
upped his intolerance for the guy.

Ashley
sighs.  “I’m not saying Derek won’t be there for her.  It’s just…” She searches
for the right words.  “He can be intense.  He’s very protective.  Addison’s
going to need some distractions to get through this, not her husband breathing
down her neck to eat five servings of vegetables a day.”

“What’s
that supposed to mean?” I ask as I feel paws on my knee.  I look down to see my
dog reared up on her hind legs sniffing around for food.

Ashley
chews her burger in thought.  “It means that Derek has always had a say in what
Addison does.  When they met, she was completely dependent on him; he was her
physical therapist.  He helped her learn to walk again and taught her how to
feed herself.  He counseled her on what exercises she needed to do, what to
eat, how much to sleep.  It was his job.”  She plays with a curly fry, pulling
it apart and letting it spring back together.  “His tendency to tell her what
to do hasn’t changed.”

I
quit petting the puppy.  “The woman I know would never let someone push her
around.”

“The
girl you
knew
wouldn’t let someone control her,” she clarifies.  “That
person changed when she woke up from a coma without parents.  Back then, she
needed guidance, and Derek gave it to her.”

“So,
what are you saying?” Kevin asks.  “Addison only does what Derek allows?  It
doesn’t seem that way.”

“Because
it’s not.”  Ashley dips her fry in ketchup.  “Addison doesn’t rely on him for basic
needs anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from suggesting she shouldn’t drink or
recommending she get eight hours of sleep.  I swear, sometimes he acts more
like her father than her husband.”  She turns to me and points.  “I think
that’s part of why he doesn’t like you.  He can’t tell her what to do where
you’re concerned, and it’s killing him.”