Broken Together (57 page)

Mom
set Bosco on the floor so she could give them a hug. “Are you still worried
about the SVR?”

Rafael
shoved his hands in his pockets. “They may target her in an effort to
manipulate Maxim, given her role in his inauguration.”

Dad
nodded solemnly. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Mom
studied me. “You’re looking a little puffy, honey. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m
tired, which is ridiculous since I’m resting all the time.” I’d been battling a
headache for three days now, but I wasn’t about to admit that in front of
Rafael.

“We’re
going to see the OB doctor tomorrow,” Rafael informed them. “You’re welcome to
join us.”

“If
you don’t mind,” Mom replied.

Rafael
nodded. “Would you like me to show you around the house before I start dinner?”

“Sure,”
Dad agreed. “I want to see the theater room Kristine’s been raving about.”

Mom
followed them into the dining room. “I’d like to help with dinner.”

I
eased back onto the pillows.

Brady
dropped next to me on the couch. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Not
really,” I admitted.

Jase
grabbed the blood pressure cuff. He shoved the stethoscope in his ears and
wrapped the cuff around my arm. He pumped air into the cuff and studied the
gauge. “One-fifty-eight over ninety-five. We’ll check it again in fifteen
minutes. If it rises above one-sixty…”

“I
know,” I groaned. “You have to take me to the hospital.”

Brady
pulled my feet onto his lap. His fingers kneaded the soles of my feet. “Why
don’t you try to get some sleep? That may help lower it a bit.”

Jase
turned the lights down in the family room. “I’ll move the ingredients for the
Chicken Marsala over to the kitchen across from the theater room so the noise
doesn’t wake you when he starts cooking.”

“Thanks,
Jase.” I whispered another prayer before tumbling into sleep.

*
* * * *

“Kristine?”

I
opened one eye and promptly slammed it shut. “Can you turn the lights down?
It’s a little bright.”

“Remind
me to purchase black out blinds,” Rafael murmured softly.

“I’ll
order them while you’re in Lisbon,” Jase answered from the doorway.

Rafael
smoothed his hand over my hair. “Do you want to take a shower before we head to
the doctor?”

“No.
My head hurts too bad to shower.” I grimaced when he sat me up.

Rafael
and Jase exchanged glances. “I want you to drink some water.” Rafael raised a
glass to my lips.

I
drank half the glass. “My stomach feels sick.”

Jase’s
long legs ate the distance between us. “I think we should head to the doctor’s
office.”

Rafael
set the glass on the nightstand. “I agree. Will you let her parents know we’re
leaving early while I help her dress? We’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen
minutes.”

Jase
strode from the room.

Rafael
eyed me worriedly. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

I
nodded.

He
helped me from the bed. “I’ll find something comfortable for you to wear while
you wash up and brush your teeth.”

I
swayed when he released me.

“Kristine!”
Rafael panicked. “What’s going on?”

I
rested my head against his chest. “My head hurts. I feel dizzy. I think... I’m
going to be sick.”

He
scooped me in his arms. “Screw the bathroom. We’re heading to Dr. Meinig’s
office.”

“Rafael!”
I cried. “Please. I’m going to throw up.”

He
carried me into the bathroom and held my hair as I heaved into the toilet. “How
long have you had this headache?”

“This
is the fourth day,” I groaned miserably.

His
jaw clenched. “Why did you keep this from me?”

I
sank against his chest. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

He
grasped my chin so I was forced to look at him. “If you’re going to keep
secrets, then I’m going to ask the doctor to admit you so we can monitor you
more closely.”

“I’m
sorry.” My eyes slid closed. The bathroom was even brighter than the bedroom.

He
set me on the vanity, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I felt so
miserable, I began to cry. He grabbed the trash bin before carrying me
downstairs.

My
parents were pacing anxiously at the bottom of the stairs. “Is she okay?” Dad
asked a little too loud.

“No,”
Rafael answered. “We need to leave now.”

“Jase
went to retrieve the Lincoln Navigator. He should be idling outside the garage.”
Brady scooped Bosco into his arms. “I’ll walk Bosco. Let me know if Dr. Meinig
sends you to the hospital. I’ll meet you there if he does.”

Rafael
nodded. Once.

Within
seconds, I was tucked inside the vehicle next to my mom.

“Did
you take her blood pressure?” Jase asked.

Rafael
shook his head.

Jase
stepped on the gas.

“Your
father ran a bunch of red lights when I was in labor with you,” Mom revealed in
an effort to distract me. “Imagine how crazy these two will be.”

Dad
pretended to shudder. “Those poor nurses.”

“Those
nurses will be just fine as long as they make Kristine their top priority,”
Jase growled.

“See?”
Mom patted my knee.

I
reached for her hand while I curled into my seat. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The
receptionist’s eyes widened when Rafael carried me into the office. I’d seen
Dr. Meinig twice before graduation. Brady and Jase joined me for those
appointments since Rafael was in Lisbon. “Ms. Stone?”

“Mrs.
Garcia,” Rafael growled. “If Dr. Meinig isn’t available, I’m taking her to the
hospital.”

She
jumped up and led us to an exam room. “He’ll be in shortly.”

Mom
followed us into the room. Dad hung back in the lobby with Jase.

Rafael
turned the light off before setting me on the exam table.

“How’s
your head?” Mom asked.

I
groaned my response.

Dr.
Meinig stepped inside the room. “Mrs. Garcia?”

“Hi,
Dr. Meinig. I’m sorry we barged in early. I’m not feeling very well, and my
husband is… worried.” I wanted to say “crazy,” but I figured the joke would be
lost on Rafael.

Dr.
Meinig shook Rafael’s hand. “Mr. Garcia. Have you wrapped up the investigation
in Lisbon?”

“Yes,
but I have to return for a preliminary hearing, which is being held over the
next few days. This is Kristine’s mother, Anne Stone. She’ll be taking care of
Kristine while I’m gone.”

“Mrs.
Stone.” Dr. Meinig shook her hand before shifting his attention to me. “What’s
going on?”

“Our
OB doctor in Lisbon diagnosed me with preeclampsia ten days ago,” I explained
miserably. “The blood pressure medication she prescribed doesn’t appear to be
working. I’ve been fighting a headache for four days, and I started vomiting
this morning.”

Rafael
handed Dr. Meinig the medical file Dr. Barriera copied for us. “Kristine’s
blood pressure was one-fifty-eight over ninety-five last night. I didn’t get a
chance to check it this morning. As you can see, she’s still in her pajamas.”

Dr.
Meinig flipped through the chart before reaching for the blood pressure cuff.
“Dr. Barriera encouraged you to deliver the baby?”

I
nodded. “I want to wait until twenty six weeks.”

He
checked my blood pressure. “One-sixty-two over ninety eight.” He checked my
pulse, then peered into my eyes. “Let’s see how the baby is doing.”

Rafael
eased me back against the table. He lifted my camisole.

Dr.
Meinig squirted gel on my tummy.

Mom
inched closer.

Dr.
Meinig pressed the Doppler against my belly. The baby’s heartbeat galloped
through the room.

Rafael
looked relieved.

“His
heartbeat is a little fast, but that’s common at this stage of development. Let’s
take a closer look.” Dr. Meinig retrieved the ultrasound machine from another
room. He squished a little more gel on my tummy before spreading it around with
the hand held device.

Mom
grasped my hand.

Dr.
Meinig studied the baby. He clicked a few keys on the ultrasound machine. “Your
child is measuring eleven and a half inches and weighs a little over a pound.”
He wiped my tummy with a towel before digging his fingers into my shins. “Your
kidneys are struggling. I need a urine sample so I can check your protein
levels.”

“I’ll
help her to the bathroom,” Mom offered.

Rafael
helped me off the exam table before releasing me to my mother.

She
wrapped her arm around me. “How’s your head?”

I
stretched my arm out, afraid I might fall. “Awful. This has got to be the worst
migraine I’ve ever had.”

We
shuffled into the bathroom. Mom wrote my name on a plastic cup. “I’m going to
see if the nurse has some soda crackers and Tylenol. Don’t try to stand until I
return.” She closed the door behind her.

My
eyes slid closed. I was so thankful I didn’t have to pee in front of Rafael. I
set my urine sample on the counter.

The
door creaked open. “It’s me.” She held four packages of soda crackers, a bag of
ice, a bottled water, and two white tablets in her hand. “We’re going to kick
this headache.” She helped me up and stood so that her leg touched mine while I
washed my hands. We dropped the sample by the lab on our way back to the exam
room.

Rafael
and Dr. Meinig were talking in hushed tones when we stepped inside the room.

Mom
tucked me into the chair closest to the door, twisted the lid off the water bottle,
and handed me a cracker.

Dr.
Meinig rolled the stool directly in front of me and plopped onto the seat. “You
need to deliver this baby.”

I
tried to force the soda cracker around the lump in my throat.

“The
baby is okay, but you’re not.” He looked up when the nurse entered the room.

She
handed him a slip of paper.

He
glanced at the lab results. “I want a CBC and a Comprehensive Metabolic Panel
STAT.”

She
hurried from the room.

Dr.
Meinig braced his hands against the arm rests on my chair. “Your kidneys aren’t
functioning properly. The baby’s head is near your cervix. If you deliver now
we can induce labor and deliver naturally. If you wait, odds are high we’ll
have to do an emergency C-section.”

“He’s
only a pound,” I whispered fearfully.

His
eyes held mine. “I’ve delivered a baby this size before. She spent some time in
the NICU, but she survived.”

“One
more week,” I pleaded. “Please.”

The
nurse returned. She was carrying a caddy filled with needles and vials.

Dr.
Meinig rolled out of the way. He added a couple of notes to my chart while she
drew my blood.

Rafael
knelt in front of me. “Please, Kristine. It’s time.”

Tears
welled in my eyes. “A few more days.
Please.
Let’s try to get to
twenty-five weeks. The baby has a fifty to seventy percent chance of survival
at twenty-five weeks.” I’d done my research. I knew every statistic.

Dr.
Meinig set my chart on the exam table. “You will remain here until I see the
results of your kidney and liver panel. We should have those results within the
hour.” He strode out of the room.

Mom
shoved another cracker at me. “You need to eat so you can take the Tylenol. I’m
going to catch your father and Jase up to speed.” She handed Rafael the water,
crackers, and tablets before leaving the room.

Rafael’s
eyes met mine. “Eat so you can lie down.”

I
forced two more soda crackers down my throat before downing the water and
Tylenol. “Rafael…”

He
shook his head. A somber expression marred his handsome face. “I can’t lose
you, Kristine. After everything we’ve been through…
I refuse
. I will not
stand by and watch you die. Please. Have faith.
Our child will survive.”

Tears
splashed against my hands. I wasn’t sure whether they were his or mine. “I can
do this, Rafael. Just a few more days. We’ll be twenty-five weeks along on
Friday.”

“You
should lie down.” He grabbed the bag of ice my mother left on the counter and
helped me onto the exam table. He tucked the ice against the base of my skull
before draping a towel over my eyes. “Please, baby, try to relax. Just…
breathe
.”

A
chair scraped across the floor as he settled in next to me. He curled one arm around
my tummy and one around the top of my head. “Rest,” he whispered softly.

I
tried to focus on my breathing. Large blobs of light pulsed behind my eyes.