“I’m not. Holly and Austin are here.”
“Down the hall.”
She stares at me for a moment, probably wondering how I’d know that.
“I brought you some magazines and your favorite snacks.”
She glances at them on the windowsill. “Thanks. I’m fully capable of staying here by myself.”
“I know yer capable, but that doesn’t mean you should. I got a deck of cards. Want to play Rummy?” I grab them from the table where I was playing Solitaire earlier.
“Jamison,” she sighs.
“Come on, I’m not asking for much. Just for you to let me help you through this. I’ll be your slave. What do you want? Me to feed you? A sponge bath? It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
She laughs, then grips her stomach. “Don’t make me laugh.”
But it’s such a beautiful sound. “I’m here as a friend, I promise.”
She looks at me skeptically. “No, you’re not, but I need a distraction from not having Palmer, so fine. But we’re playing Hearts, not Rummy.”
“Deal.”
During my ankle surgeries and recovery, we mastered every card game two people could play. She was there for me during my time in a hospital bed and I’ll be here for her. I liked it a lot better when it was me in that bed though.
“And hand me the Doritos. I cannot eat this food.”
I snag the chocolate pudding while she pushes away her tray.
“Oh, good catch. I’ll have that.” She smiles and grabs the pudding out of my hands.
It’s amazing how it seems like nothing has changed except for the huge reality that we share a daughter now. All my dreams are there, just out of my reach. I don’t hold them all in my hand just yet though. Yet being the keyword.
Twelve
Sedona
I foolishly allowed Jamison to stay the night at the hospital. And now he’s on one side of me with the nurse on the other, helping me to stand. The doctor is insisting that I get up and walk by the end of the day.
“Just a few steps and then we’ll get you in the wheelchair. You and Jamison can work on it little by little.”
“How are you on a first-name basis with him?” I ask the nurse, who beams at Jamison.
“He had a delivery of donuts brought to us this morning.”
Another member of the Jamison Ferguson fan club. Wonderful.
“You work fast,” I mumble in his direction.
After I take the few steps to the wheelchair, my lower abdomen feels as if it’s on fire. This is definitely harder than after I had Palmer.
“Good job, Sedona,” she says. “Now don’t go too fast with her, Jamison.” She laughs.
I want to put my finger in my throat and gag like a thirteen-year-old.
“Thanks, Katrina,” he says, and I swear he’s laying his Scottish accent on thick.
“Have her back by twelve for lunch and pain pills.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise,” he says and wheels me slowly down the hallway.
We pass all the rooms with new moms inside. What a great place to work. Everyone’s so happy. Even the day I had Palmer was the happiest day of my life. I missed Jamison—this Jamison, who treats me like his most cherished possession—but I had my family.
He rolls us onto the elevator and stays at my back, saying nothing. He remains silent, but I hear his phone vibrate in his pocket. I haven’t had the nerve to ask him about the coaching jobs he’s applied for. I’m trying to keep our relationship on a course where we can be great parents to Palmer. A team. If he ends up coaching, he’ll have an off season. We’ll figure out the time apart.
He wheels me into the courtyard and the sun warms my face. I tilt my head back to soak up as much as I can get.
“Thank you,” I say.
He wraps a blanket over my legs and another one over my shoulders. “It’s colder than I thought.”
Rolling me up to a table, I spot another one farther down where a woman is crying. Other people surround her, trying to console her. While the baby floor is brimming with happiness, many other parts of this building aren’t as optimistic.
“Now, hold up, I’ll be right back,” Jamison says and walks back inside the hospital.
I take the opportunity to close my eyes and enjoy the sun on my face. It isn’t until I hear commotion from the table next to us that I open my eyes to find Jamison walking in with Palmer in his arms.
“Oh, how sweet,” one woman says.
How did he manage to get someone to drop off Palmer here?
Palmer squirms to get out of his hold, but Jamison holds her tight until he can place the diaper bag on the table and gently place her on my lap. Her arms go around my neck and tears free fall down my face now that she’s with me again.
Jamison sits in the chair across from us, smiling. I have to give him credit—the man still knows what I need more than I do.
Palmer leans back, and I reposition her legs not to dig into my incision. There’s a question in her eyes. Sad?
No, happy.
Her little eyebrows draw down. Cry.
Happy tears. I missed you.
She smiles and it’s like the sun warming my chest. It’s the best thing in the world.
Her fingers rise again. I slept at Uncle and Auntie.
Did you have fun?
Her smile says she did. Yes. She looks over her shoulder at Jamison and back at me. Friend?
Jamison looks away toward the building. A pang of guilt rises in me, and I shake my head. She looks at him again, as though she knows and understands what I’m about to tell her. But there’s no possible way she can.
Who?
I study Jamison. He glances our way again, and if I’m reading him right, he can’t bear for me to say he’s just a friend. He wants her to know. After last night, I know that the Jamison I fell in love with is still in there. I won’t allow myself to love him again, but my daughter can.
“I think it’s time. Are you ready?” I ask him.
Palmer puts her hand on my face and turns me to face her. She doesn’t like when she sees lips moving and no one signs.
He straightens. It’s cute the way he looks nervous and like he’s preparing himself for an important interview or something. And that’s how I know I’m making the right choice.
Not friend. Daddy.
Her eyes widen. Me?
I inhale a deep breath and my eyes are full to the brim with tears. It has to be the hormones. Yours. I point at her.
She doesn’t immediately smile like I thought she would. She throws herself at me. I wince a bit because of my incision but allow her arms to wrap so tight around my neck that I might suffocate. Then she scurries off my lap until her feet find the pavement.
Moving to the other chair, she climbs onto Jamison’s lap with his help. He positions her so I can see what she signs too. It’s a show of respect. Someone without a deaf family member probably wouldn’t have even thought of it.
My daddy?
Jamison nods and his jaw clenches. His Adam’s apple bobs with a deep swallow.
Palmer hugs him. I gasp when his eyes close and tears drip down his cheeks.
She draws back. Sad?
He shakes his head with a small chuckle.