Summer Rose (20 page)

The hospital noises grated on Hunter’s nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. Every time he heard the squeak of rubber shoe soles on the polished tiles he jumped and waited for a nurse or doctor to appear. When they didn’t his nerves wound that much tighter.

An hour ago, although to him it seemed like four hours ago, a nurse had informed him that because one of the babies was breech, the doctor would be performing a C-section. She said it wouldn’t be long, but Hunter had decided she’d been giving him lip-service to calm him down. However, it had only raised his anxiety level several notches.

Unable to sit still, he paced the small waiting room from wall to wall and windows to wall, stopping only periodically to peer down the hall where Rose had been loaded on a gurney and wheeled away almost two hours earlier. But other than the normal functioning activity of a busy hospital, he saw nothing that would tell him what was going on in the operating room where he’d been told they’d taken Rose.

The EMTs hadn’t let him ride in the ambulance. Something about a rule they had because he wasn’t her relative. Instead of taking the time to argue that he was the closest thing she had to a relative, Hunter, Ken, Davy and Lydia had followed the ambulance in Ken’s car to Charleston. They’d dropped Davy off with a friend of Lydia’s, and then went straight to the hospital. There had barely been enough time for him to assure Rose that he’d be there when she got out, before EMTs wheeled her away.

Hunter stopped beneath the large, black clock hanging on the pale green waiting room area wall. Its plain face and oversized hands reminded him of the one that had hung on the wall in his third-grade classroom. As back then when he’d been waiting for recess, those immense hands seemed to have stopped moving. Was it even working? Just then, as if to mock his frustration, the larger of the two hands ticked off another minute with a loud
click
.

“What’s taking so long? Why aren’t they coming to tell us anything?” Hunter had asked this same question of the other occupants of the room innumerable times during the long, nerve-wracking wait.

“It’ll happen when it happens, brother,” Ken said. “They’ll let you know when they have something to tell you, and asking every two minutes about how long it’s taking isn’t going to hurry anything up. Except maybe your nervous breakdown.”

“He’s right. Hunter,” Lydia chimed in. She stood. “How about if I go down to the cafeteria and get us all some coffee?”

“Good idea.” Ken dug in his pocket and then handed her some bills. “Hunter and I take ours black.”

Between Hunter’s taut nerves and the sickening antiseptic smell of the hospital, he had doubts about even keeping a cup of coffee down, but he didn’t decline. Instead he just nodded and mumbled, “Thanks, Lydia.”

She took the bills from Ken, cast a sympathetic look in Hunter’s direction, then hurried from the room.

Hunter sat down in one of the vinyl upholstered chairs, picked up a glossy magazine from a nearby side table and absently leafed through it, seeing nothing but a blur of color as the pages ruffled past his line of vision. Tossing the magazine back on the pile, he finger-combed his hair and then stood and began pacing again.

His insides were a knot of raw nerves. Rose had to be okay. The babies had to be okay.
They will be
, he told himself over and over, but it didn’t help. She’d been in there so long, and she’d been in so much pain. Did it mean complications or did C-sections always take this long?

The nurse who had admitted Rose walked by, and Hunter quickly followed her to the desk. “Is there any word about Rose Hamilton yet?”

She hit several keys on her computer’s keyboard, waited, then consulted something on the monitor and shook her head. “Not yet, sir. It’s probably going to be a few more—”

Hunter didn’t wait to hear more. He hurried back to the waiting room. Lydia had returned with three containers of coffee. Hunter accepted one and took a sip. It tasted like turpentine. He set it aside and resumed pacing.

Visions of Rose at the house tormented him. She’d looked so defeated after he’d told her why he renovated the house. Why hadn’t he told he loved her and that he wanted to be a father to her babies? He sighed. Would there ever come a time when he ceased to act like a jerk around Rose? He’d known what she wanted to hear, so why hadn’t he just said it?

Because you’re a coward, Mackenzie. Because you were afraid she’d turn away from you. But she didn’t, did she? She only turned away when she thought you still didn’t want the responsibility of a family. All she wanted were the words, the commitment.

Silently, he promised himself, God and Rose that he’d make that commitment as soon as he could see her and talk to her again. He loved her and wanted to raise the babies with her. She needed to know that, and he needed to tell her. Now, he just prayed he’d get the chance to say it.

The babies weren’t due for a month and a half yet. Was that going to cause problems? The doctor had explained to him that twins often come early and that, with all the modern technology and advances in medicine they have now, preemies have a good survival rate—but what about the mother? He’d never said anything about the survival rate of the mothers.

When he thought about the possibility of never getting the chance to tell Rose how he felt, his heart felt as if a big fist had squeezed it. The pain, emotional and physical, nearly doubled him over.

No! He had to stop this. He had to start thinking positive thoughts. Rose would be fine, and so would the twins. And they’d have a wonderful life together. He had to believe that. If he didn’t, they’d be admitting him to the psych ward.

Rose opened her eyes then blinked
and then quickly closed them against the glare of the fluorescent lights. The familiar smell of a hospital hung in the air. A periodic, rhythmic beeping was the only sound in the room. It took a moment for her to realize it was her own heartbeat she was listening to.

Slowly, she opened her eyes again and looked down at the blankets covering her. Her tummy was flat. The bulge that had held her babies was gone. Panic gripped her insides. She knew the dangers of premature birth, even at seven and a half months.

“Nurse!” The sound emerged from her dry throat as just above a whisper. She felt for the call button and pressed it over and over.

Seconds later a nurse wearing a smock top covered with tiny brown teddy bears, a name badge that read Marsha Evars, and an alarmed expression on her face raced into the room. “Yes, Ms. Hamilton. What is it?” She hurried to Rose’s side.

Rose pushed herself to a half-sitting position. She grimaced at the sharp pain that sliced across her abdomen. “My babies. How are they?”

Relief flooded Marsha’s face. “Your babies are fine. Both of them are sleeping soundly in an Isolette in the nursery.”

Rose gripped the nurse’s fingers so tight, the woman cried out. “But are they okay?”

She smiled. “They’re fine. They weighed in a little light, but they should gain their weight in no time. They have all the required number of fingers, toes, eyes, noses and limbs. A little small, but no respiratory problems. Just two very healthy babies.”

Unsure of what they’d told her after the babies had been born, Rose asked, “They’re girls, right?”

“They sure are. Two beautiful little girls.” She pushed gently against Rose’s shoulder. “Now, just lie back and relax.”

Rose resisted. “When can I see them?”

Urging Rose gently, but firmly back against the pillows, Marsha smiled and tucked the sheet in. “As soon as the doctor comes in and gives the okay. Your tummy is gonna be sore for a while so you can’t rush into too much movement. Now, you just take it easy. You’ve had a big day. You’ll see your daughters very soon. Promise.”

Reassured, Rose relaxed against the pillows. She thought about the two lives she’d just brought into the world. Two little girls. I have two little girls. It dawned on her at that moment that somewhere along the way she’d stopped thinking of the twins as Beth’s babies and started thinking of them as hers. Rose’s daughters. Maybe she would be good at this mother stuff after all.

Despite her efforts to stay awake, Rose’s eyelids drooped. The last thing she recalled was the nurse smiling down at her, and then hurrying from the room.

Hunter stared through the window
at the incubators holding the tiny babies Rose had given birth to about an hour before. It was incredible how small they were and hard to imagine that anything that little would one day be going to college and getting married and having babies of her own.

Even more incredible was that Hunter realized exactly how much he wanted to be there to see all of that happen. He wanted to see their first steps, hear their first words, take them to their first day of school, interrogate their first dates, walk each of them down the aisle on his arm on their wedding day. And he wanted to do it all with Rose at his side.

A knock on the glass in front of him roused him from his wishful musings. He recognized the nurse immediately as Cindy Newman. She’d been to his office many times with Herman, a very large, drooling Saint Bernard, who had a penchant for investigating porcupines in a very up close and personal way.

Cindy motioned for him to go to the door to the nursery. He did as she asked. The door swung open. “Hi, Doc.”

“Cindy.”

“These your babies? Or are you checking them out for a friend?”

How did he answer that? He finally settled on what hoped would be the case after speaking to Rose. “They’re my girlfriend’s.”

“Well then, how about you come in and get acquainted with them? I’ll even let you hold them.”

Hunter hesitated. Was he really sure he wanted to do this? He glanced past Cindy to where the pink-skinned, fragile-looking babies lay, hands punching the air. God, they were so tiny, so delicate. He’d never held a baby before, at least not a human baby. What if he hurt one of them?

He took a step backward. “Uh . . . I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Cindy smiled. “Sure it is. Come on. They’re little but they won’t break.” She took his arm and led him into a small anteroom where she handed him a set of green scrubs. “Put these on, then come on out and meet your girls.” She closed the door.

His girls.
Calm contentment infused with warmth and happiness spread through him. It was as if someone had removed every care in the world from his shoulders. He recognized the feeling immediately. It was the same feeling he got when he held Rose in his arms. It was love. But how could he love these tiny lives already?

Quickly, he slipped the scrubs over his street clothes.

“Ready?” Cindy called from the other side of the door.

Hunter opened the door and stepped into the nursery. “Ready.” He took a deep breath and followed her to the side of the incubators holding the babies.

“Sit there.” Cindy pointed at a rocking chair situated to the side of the room.

He sat and watched as she carefully picked up one of the babies and swathed her in a pink blanket. Then she placed the tiny bundle in his arms. He looked down at her in awe. Only her face was visible, and just looking at her made him feel like he held an angel. Her creamy cheeks held a pink tinge and her blue eyes stared up at him with a mesmerizing intensity that turned his insides to jelly.

“Hello, little one. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He touched her cheek gingerly with his thumb. It felt like silk. Carefully, he pulled back the blanket to see more of her. Before he could put it back in place, she’d wrapped her fingers around his thumb. Hunter’s heart swelled until he was afraid it would burst from his chest. Tears choked his throat, but he pushed the words past them. “That’s it, sweetheart. You hang on to me because I will always be here for you and your sister. I will make sure that nothing ever hurts either of you and that all you ever know is love and happiness. That’s a promise because I’m going to do everything in my power to convince your mom that I should be your dad.”

Behind Hunter, Rose let the tears fall
freely as she watched him and the baby. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the look of wonder and love on his face told her more than enough. Maybe there was hope for them as a couple and as a family.

When she could speak, she whispered to the nurse pushing her wheelchair, “Take me back to my room. I’ll see the babies later. I don’t want to interrupt that.”

The nurse smiled and nodded, turned the chair around and wheeled Rose back to her room, then helped her into the bed.

A half hour later, Hunter stepped into the room. “Hi.”

Still unsure of how things lay between them, Rose smiled. “Hi, yourself.”

He came to the side of the bed. “Have you seen them yet?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

His grin lit up the room. “They’re beautiful, Rose.” Then he laughed and shook his head. “That’s such an inadequate word to describe them. They’re . . . a miracle . . .” Emotion filled his voice and choked off any further words. He coughed to clear his throat, looking a bit embarrassed at his unbidden display of emotions. “Have you named them?”

“Beth for their mom, and Patricia for their dad, Patrick.”

“That’s nice. I’m sure Beth and Patrick would be very happy with your choices.” Suddenly, he’d become almost formal. Then he started to move away toward the chair at her bedside.

They’d come this far and Rose had no intentions of allowing him to retreat. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her, forcing him to sit on the side of the bed. “I need to ask you something.”