“I know that couldn’t have been easy for you,” she says.
“I’d do anything for you,” I say, looking down at Finn. “And him.”
She leans over, kissing me slowly, her soft lips parting. Her tongue meets mine, and the stress of the night falls away. Something about the way she’s kissing me tells me if we weren’t in an emergency room, she’d be on her back. And her rule of going slowly would be out the window. “I love you,” she moans between kisses.
“Uh-hum.” The nurse clears her throat as she enters the room, forcing us apart. “The doctor says you can go. Just need you to fill out the paperwork that didn’t initially get filled out,” she says, tossing me a look.
I take Finn as the nurse hands Paige the papers and gives her discharge instructions for Finn’s medication. He’s still uncomfortable, but his fever has come down some. They gave him a dose of an antibiotic and something for his fever, so hopefully, we all can get some rest when we get home.
“License and insurance card?” the nurse asks. Paige reaches into her purse, handing them to the nurse, who goes to make copies while Paige finally fills out the forms.
“Make sure to add me as an emergency contact,” I say, looking down at Finn in my arms. Since I’ve known Paige, I’ve been scared out of my mind twice. First the tornado, and now this. Is love usually this damn frightening? I heard someone say once being married increases one’s life expectancy—I’d need to see more research on that.
For the first time, I think about what my dad lost when he lost my mom. It would be like if I lost Paige. I can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine I’d respond like he did, but grief is a funny thing. I don’t even want to think about what my life would look like without her and Finn in it. Not that long ago, I was happy living the single life, but now I wouldn’t go back to that for anything. Even nights like this are better than the best night as a bachelor.
In some weird way, I have my dad to thank for this, for them. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have Paige and Finn in my life. Shit, life is strange sometimes.
The nurse comes back in, and Paige hands her the clipboard of paperwork. She hands Paige back her license and insurance card, then scans the paperwork. She holds it back out in front of Paige, pointing at a spot on the first page. “I need the baby’s social security number.”
Paige freezes for a second, taking Finn from me. “I don’t have it with me.”
“You should really keep it with you at all times,” the nurse scolds. “Keep it in your contacts or something.”
I get to my feet, clearly done with this woman. I know she’s just doing her job, but she could do it a little more nicely. “If there’s any problem filing with the insurance,” I say, “you can call us for it.” She gives me a half-hearted nod and leaves. Grabbing our stuff, I head toward the door. “You’d think someone who works in pediatrics would be a little nicer.”
“Let’s just go,” Paige says, following me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
PAIGE
Finn sleeps peacefully between Slade and me. He used to sleep in bed with me a lot when he was first born, but gradually, I moved him to a crib, so we don’t do this very often anymore. But this is the second time in just a few days, he’s been in bed with Slade and me. The baby books debate co-sleeping, whether it’s good or not. I think each baby is different. Each situation is unique. For me, there was no way my sick little guy was going to sleep anywhere else last night. I know Slade felt the same way.
Slade reaches out, caressing my cheek. “He’s fine. You can sleep,” he whispers.
I repeat the motion and his words back at him. “He’s fine. You can sleep.”
His blue eyes sparkle even though I know he’s dog tired. We were up all night, and when we got home, neither one of us could sleep, keeping watch over Finn all night.
“Think I’ll call in sick today,” I say. “Think my boss will understand?”
Slade yawns a little. “Yeah. Your boss not only understands, but he may take a sick day, as well.”
“You know you don’t have to stay and watch over us,” I say. “We’ll be fine.”
“Maybe I’ll go in later for a few hours,” he says, inching closer to wrap his arm around me. “But for now, I’m staying right here.”
Smiling, I say, “Did I thank you for last night? You were so great. With me. With Finn. With that god-awful nurse.”
“My pleasure,” he says. “I love you.” I can’t help it, but my eyes close. “Paige, please look at me when I tell you I love you.”
“I am,” I lie, briefly making eye contact with him. I think most people are probably ready for love when it finds them. They’ve probably been searching for it. That’s not me. I love Slade. I know I do. I’m ready for that, but I’m not ready for him to love me back. I want to be, but love means to trust and let the other person in. You can’t be scared. You have to be brave to let someone love you. I’ve always considered myself brave, a fighter. I had to be, but when it comes to love—I’m a coward. I’m not ready for love.
“I love you,” he says again, and I know I look away. “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t want to get used to your love,” I say. “I can’t let myself get used to feeling like this.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because then I’ll start to rely on your love.”
Leaning over, he tilts my chin up, directing my eyes to his. “Rely on my love,” he says. “It’s yours. Forever.”
*
A worried Slade is adorable. I’m not sure why he bothered to go to work. He’s texted and called me constantly, making sure we don’t need anything. Seeing if I want him to pick up dinner. Asking if he can bring home anything special for Finn. Making me promise I’ll call if Finn gets worse.
I gently remind him that it’s just an ear infection and babies get them all the time. His response is that it’s a first for Finn, a first for me, and a first for him, so apparently, that makes it a big deal. Clearly, I overreacted last night and freaked the man out.
Still, I can’t shake this worried feeling. Finn’s still cranky and clingy, but his fever is down some. I’m hoping we’re on the road to recovery, but a gut feeling tells me something bad is coming.
As a kid, I got really good at anticipating bad news. My body would tense, knowing I’d need to react. I feel that way again. Maybe it’s Finn, but more than likely, it’s that I’m a big ole liar. Either way, I can’t shake the feeling that shit is about to hit the fan.
Babies get sick. This is just a part of it, but Finn being sick must be big news because Catrine called to check on him. I guess Slade told Jon and Jon told Catrine, and our little trip to the emergency room became big news.
I don’t want Catrine to worry or stress. She’s about to pop any day now, and she needs to be focused on that—on happy things. I plan on going to see her tomorrow. I know Finn’s not contagious, but we were in the hospital filled with germs, so no telling what he has now. I swear, if you’re not sick going in, you’re sick coming out. The last thing Catrine needs is to get sick, so I’m going to be extra careful.