“Good.”
The morning nurse stops in for dressing changes and I step out, hitting up the vending machine for a stale coffee and a pack of donuts. I haven’t eaten since yesterday at lunch. I take a walk out to the garden in the center of the hospital. It’s a safe place for patients who are not in the ICU to walk outside and get some fresh air. The morning air is crisp and I relish it, sucking in a slow, deep breath, thinking maybe I can catch a quick cat nap.
My phone vibrates. No such luck.
Stephanie: Where are you?
Me: Hospital.
Stephanie: Call me.
Here we go. I tap on her contact and wait for her to pick up.
“Hello.”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Everything okay?”
“No.”
“Oookay. Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Care to fill me in?”
“I don’t really want to do this over the phone,” I tell her.
“I have a busy day today, Ridge. Just tell me what’s going on.”
So, I do, giving her the condensed version. Only I leave out the fact that Melissa was just a one-night stand because, at this point, it’s no longer relevant. After I explain the flat-tire girl and the accident, I pause. I know she’s not going to take this well. “And . . . uh, Melissa . . . She’s pregnant.”
“Good for her. What does that have to do with you?”
How have I put up with her for this long? “It’s mine. We were together before I met you. About eight months ago was the last time.” I don’t know why I don’t want her to know, I just don’t.
“So, you’re having a baby?”
“Yes. He’s due in three weeks.”
“He? I guess you all are going to be a little happy family, huh?”
Bitch! “What part of ‘she’s still in a coma’ did you not understand?” I seethe.
“Look, I have to go. Can we talk about this later?”
“Whatever.” I end the call. I don’t have the time or the energy to deal with petty drama. I have an unborn son and his mother, who is fighting for her life that I need to take care of.
Chapter 6
Ridge
It’s day three and so far, no change. Melissa still continues to slumber on, but her vitals are holding strong so her doctor is hopeful. The baby’s also proved to be a fighter. His vitals are strong, as is his heartbeat, which I get to hear a few times a day. I’ve come to crave the sound.
“Good morning,” Lisa, the day nurse, greets me.
“Morning,” I mumble, sitting up in my chair. “I’m going to get some coffee,” I tell her then leave the room. I feel like I need to give them privacy to change her.
I decide to head to the cafeteria to grab a bagel and the largest coffee they offer. I can’t do any more vending machine coffee; surely this has to be better. I sit at a small table in the corner and scroll through my phone. I have text messages from the guys, Reagan, and my parents.’ They’ve all been great, stopping by to see me, keeping me company, and bringing me food and clothes. I have yet to run home to shower, using the one in Melissa’s room instead.
When I get back to her room, both Dr. Ellis and Dr. Robbins are there. This is the first time I’ve seen the two of them together since that first night.
“Something wrong?” My heart drops when I see the intense expression on both their faces.
“Ridge, the baby’s vitals have been dropping slowly overnight. I think it’s best if we deliver today,” Dr. Ellis says.
“Today?” I repeat.
“Yes.”
“Is he okay? It’s too early.”
“He’s good, but I don’t want to wait until there’s a chance that he won’t be. Melissa has had the steroids, and I have full faith that he’ll have no complications. Babies are born at thirty-seven-and-a-half weeks every day. I do feel like this is the best decision.”
“What do you think?” I ask Dr. Robbins.
“I agree with Dr. Ellis. This is what is best for the baby.”
“What about Melissa?”
“Her vitals are strong, and I’m confident that the cesarean will be a smooth process.”
“So, when?” I ask.
“Now. Like I said, I don’t want to let his vitals get down to the risk stage. The sooner we deliver, the less strain it will be on both of them,” Dr. Ellis explains.
“W-What do I do?”
“The nurses will help you scrub in. Get ready to meet your son.”
“I know she says that he’s mine and I’m not disputing, but I haven’t seen her in over eight months. Can we do a test? You know, just to make sure. I feel like he is, but you know, I just . . . yeah, can we do that?” I ramble. It feels like I’m betraying her by even asking, but it’s something I need to do for my own peace of mind.
“Of course. It takes anywhere from two to five days to get the results, but I’ll put a rush on them,” Dr. Ellis says.
“Thank you.”
“We’re going to take her to the OR. Contact your family and then have Lisa escort you and help you get scrubbed in.”
I nod and watch as they wheel her out of the room. I guess I better do what he says; I don’t want both of us to miss his birth.
I decide on a group message.
Me: Baby’s vitals are dropping. Delivering today. Now. Will text when I know more.
Mom: On our way.
Dad: What she said. Be strong, son.
Mark: We got you.
Seth: Good luck, Daddy.
Kent: Closing up shop early.
Tyler: You got this.
Reagan: I love you, big brother.
Their words ground me. I have to stay strong for my son. Yes, my son. I feel it deep in my soul that he’s mine, and right now, he needs me. It’s time to get my shit together and be what he needs.
A father.
I power my phone off and slip it into my pocket just as Lisa opens the door. “You ready?”
“As ready as I can be.”
She smiles. “Follow me.”
I do as I’m told, and after an elevator ride and several hallways, we make our way through a set of double doors marked Operating Room. We stop at a large, very sterile room with sinks.
“You need to put scrubs on over your clothes and booties over your shoes. After that, we’ll scrub your hands and put gloves on you, as well as a facemask. You need to be just as sterile in the surgical environment as the medical staff,” she explains.
After getting myself set up, Lisa opens the door to what I now know is the actual operating room. “There is a chair by Melissa. Hold her hand and talk to her. Some say that even though they’re not awake, they can hear you. Some patients say they remember.”
“Do you believe it?”
Lisa shrugs. “I’ve been a nurse for twenty years, and I’ve seen a lot. I’m not sure I’m a firm believer, but I do know that if I were in your shoes I would want to believe it. Help her be here in this moment. Maybe she’ll remember, maybe she won’t, but either way, you’ll have no regrets.” With those parting words, she shuts the door, closing me in.
“You must be Dad,” a cheery nurse greets me. “We have a chair for you, right beside Mom. I’ll help answer any questions you may have during the procedure.”
Swallowing hard, I nod and take the seat next to Melissa. Reach
ing out, I grab her hand and lace her fingers through mine, mindful of her IV. “Hey, Melissa. So, little man is having some trouble. It’s nothing serious, they tell me, but his vitals are dropping. The doctors think it’s best if they deliver him today. We’re here now in the operating room. I’m here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” I ramble on and on, my nerves getting the best of me.
I continue, telling her about the daily ultrasounds and how he seems to like to suck his thumb. I tell her that my family is here for all three of us, waiting to meet our son. I tell her how great she’s done, doing this all on her own, and how sorry I am that she’s missing this moment.
“He’s out,” the doctor says, but his voice is tense.
The room is quiet, no cries. Aren’t there supposed to be cries? Come on, baby, one breath. One breath at a time.
Then I hear him.
“Is he . . . ?” I’m overwhelmed with the sound of my son’s first cries. I’m a father.
“They’re going to get him cleaned up, run a few newborn tests, and then you can hold him,” the cheery nurse explains.
“She’s doing great, Ridge,” Dr. Ellis assures me. “Just closing up and then we’ll send her to recovery.”
“You hear that, Melissa? Did you hear him? His lungs sound strong and healthy. They’re checking him over really well and then I get to hold him. Open your eyes for me. I hate that you’re missing this. He’s your family.” My voice cracks when the last few words fall from my lips.
His cries suddenly quiet, causing me to whip my head around. There, standing behind me, is the cheery nurse holding him. He’s all bundled up in a blanket. My hands start to shake, and my heart beats wildly in my chest.
“He passed with flying colors. He’s already had his bath, and we even did the swab for the paternity test. He’s ready to eat, Dad. What do you say?”
I look back at Melissa, willing her to wake up. She’s missing this. Turning back to the nurse, I answer with, “I-I don’t know what to do.”
She smiles. “How about I take him to the nursery while you change out of the scrubs, and you can meet me there? Mom will be in recovery for a few hours at least before we can move her back to her room.”