Forgiven (8 page)

The thought makes me a little sad. I can’t even wrap my head around what Gabby has had to endure in losing her mother. She’ll never have her mom stop by and bring her lunch ever again. She doesn’t get to tell her mom, or dad for that matter, that she’s getting married. My thoughts are interrupted when Sharon comes over the phone intercom in my office even though I’ve told her I am not to be disturbed. She never does that.

“Mr. Banks?” I can hear in her voice she’s concerned. She probably thinks I’m going to fire her for interrupting me, but it would take a hell of a lot more than that to make me. She’s been the best secretary that I’ve ever had.

I put one finger up for Mom to let her know I’ll just be a second. I have always thought it was rude to interrupt meetings, even if they are with your parents. “Yes, Sharon.”

“Mr. Banks, Miss Johnson is on your private line for you.” I grab the phone before she says another word. I have yet to tell my parents about the possibility they may become grandparents in the next couple of months. I wanted to make sure the baby was mine before I got my mom’s hopes up, or down. Mom will be supportive and ecstatic no matter what. Dad, on the other hand, will be an absolute dick that I knocked up someone and didn’t ‘take care of it’. “I said no interruptions, Sharon. Tell her I’ll call her back in an hour.”

“Yes, sir. I know. It’s just...she says it’s an emergency.”

Well, that explains why she sounds scared to death. I’m sure Sharon insisted that I was unavailable. Veronica is very good at manipulating people into doing what she wants them to do. That’s her job. She just better be sure she has a damn good reason for having my secretary break the rules and interrupting my delicious, hot lunch. I need to tell Roni that my private line is no longer available for her to use.

“Okay. I’ll take it, but no other interruptions unless it’s Gabby,” I warn her.

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

I punch the button for line two and turn my back to my mother. Something about even being on the phone with the woman in front of my mom feels wrong. “What is it?” I grumble and then hear sobs.

“It’s the baby. There’s something wrong.”

Those words are my undoing. Something inside of me that I didn’t even know existed is awakened. I recognize the adrenaline pumping through my veins. “What do you mean?” I ask, barely able to breathe.

“I’m bleeding. Lots of blood.” Her voice fades and the sobs continue.

I glance back to my mother trying to decide how to handle this situation. “Where are you?”

“Cal is taking me to Emory.”

“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?” I feel like a dick as soon as I ask her that. I know my response should be that I’ll be right there.

“I’m so sorry. Lots of blood, Bradley. I think I’m losing the baby.”

I glance back to my mother and she appears terrified. There is nothing that I can do to relieve her. I’m terrified, myself. I realize that even though I have been adamant that the baby isn’t mine, subconsciously I have tried to get myself right with the possibility. The thought of losing a child that I haven’t even been able to meet makes me feel like I’m being punched in the stomach by a bully on the playground over and over again. The anguish in Veronica’s voice is horrific. No matter what I think about her, I wouldn’t wish this pain on any mother.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure everything you and the baby will be okay. I’m on my way.”

“You don’t know that,” she cries, her breathing is labored, and I can tell she’s getting weaker by the second.

“Listen. I’m on my way. You sit tight.” I need her to be the strong, in control woman I know she is. Our baby is depending on her to be strong. Thinking
our
baby just seems odd. Up until now, I have never accepted that this child is mine. I’ve always thought it just had to be Ian’s. I realize in this moment, it really doesn’t matter whose child it is. I don’t love Veronica, but I would never wish this on anyone. She could die. They both could die. I choke the tears that I feel at the backs of my eyes and clear my throat. “Please just rest until you get to the hospital. I’ll see you in a few.”

I grab my cell phone, keys, and my coat. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I have to go. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Son, I couldn’t help overhearing. Is this baby yours?”

I shake my head. What would make her immediately assume the baby is mine? It’s not like I don’t have friends. I don’t have time for this. “I don’t know. If you want to ride with me, I can explain on the way.”

“What about this food?”

I shrug my shoulders and holler for Sharon.

The door opens. “Yes sir?”

“There’s an emergency. Cancel my day.” I motion to the wonderful meal my mother prepared with sadness at how my life just turned into an even bigger mess than I could have ever imagined in a split second. “And please clean this up. If Gabby calls, please tell her I’m at Emory with Veronica.” I have started walking with my head bowed to the elevator and pressed the down button. Mom is at my side.

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

I glance back to her. “No, just prayers please.”

I’ve never mentioned religion to Sharon before. I’m pretty sure she’s a Christian, but it’s not appropriate to discuss at work. She stares at me like I have two heads. “I’ll start a prayer chain with my church if you’d like.”

I can’t talk anymore. Emotion is consuming me. I just nod my head. I was raised Baptist. I know my mother has been disappointed that I don’t go to church regularly anymore. I glance at her and call it a mother’s intuition, but she knows what I need because she responds for me. “Please, that would be appreciated, Sharon.”

Mom puts her arm on my shoulder and whispers, “Do you want to wait until we’re in the car to tell me what exactly is happening?”

I glance at her as I loosen my tie and unbutton the top buttons of my shirt. “Before Gabby, Veronica was my...companion...” I shake my head in frustration with myself. How in the world did I manage to get myself into this position? “She’s pregnant.”

The elevator reaches the parking garage. I press the fob to unlock the doors. The alarm beeps off, and I open the door for mom before quickly making my way back to my side. I swing the door open and quickly climb in, turning on the ignition. I glance over my shoulder to pull out of the parking space. I would drive a lot faster if she wasn’t with me, but I know that my driving on a good day already scares her to death. She braces the handle on the passenger side door. “Does Gabriella know?”

I keep my eyes on the road, thankful that I’m driving and don’t have to make a lot of eye contact with her. “Yes.”

“How far along is she?”

“Seven months or so.”

“And what’s going on with her?”

“She’s bleeding, apparently a lot.” I can feel royal blue eyes boring into the side of my head. I quickly turn my eyes to my mother and back to the road. “What does that mean, Mom?”

“Could be several things.”

“Any of them have a good outcome?” Silence. No answer. I look back over to her. “Mom...”

She turns towards me. “I’m sorry, son.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know that the baby is mine.”

“Oh?” she asks curiously.

“Yeah, long story that I don’t want to rehash right now. I just feel guilty because up until a few minutes ago, I had hoped this was all a big nightmare that would just go away.”

She reaches over and rubs my knee, but doesn’t say a word. How do you respond to that? The rest of the car ride is spent in silence, for which I am very grateful.

I’ve been to this hospital many times, but I’ve never really been to the Labor and Delivery part. We rush in and I immediately go to the desk to get assistance.

“I’m here for Veronica Johnson.”

“Yes, she just arrived not too long ago. Are you her husband?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Oh, but you’re the father?”

Shit. It would look really crappy for me to say I don’t know. I just nod. I can’t say the words. I can’t verbally claim this child. Not yet, at least.

“Come with me.” She motions for me, but glances towards mom. “Ma’am, we are going to need you to wait here in the lobby until Ms. Johnson is more stable.”

I look back to mom. “I’ll keep you posted.”

She quickly gives me a hug. “Bradley, can I do anything for you right now?”

“No. Thanks, though.”

She nods and gives a fake, helpless smile as I walk through the double automatic doors. As much as I hate she had to find out like this, I am so relieved and comforted to know she is here. I’m relieved to have this off of my chest.

A hospital hall has never seemed so long in all of my life. Not that I’ve been in a lot of them. Our family wasn’t just blessed with financial wealth, but also with incredibly healthy genes. I briefly think of Gabby and her family. I guess it’s good that at least one of us has a healthy family history. I realize this is really the first time I’ve thought of her since I left the office. Well aside from Mom asking if she knew about the baby. It makes me feel guilty to know that I’ve been so pre-occupied with another woman, even if Gabby does know about Veronica. This all just feels so wrong.

The lady who has been helping me since I got here, looks to be in her late sixties. She’s a short, stout, black lady wearing scrubs. She stops and takes me to an area that looks like an emergency room, but more comfortable and cozy. Finally we reach a cubical that has the curtain opened, and I see Veronica asleep in the bed. She is very pale. She has multiple IV’s. It looks like one has some kind of clear fluid going through it, but the other has blood. Damn. She’s lost so much blood she needs a transfusion. She’s also hooked up to another monitor. I hear a steady beating. I am standing here in complete and utter shock. What in the hell has happened to her?

I turn on my heel to see if I can find someone to give me answers. I almost run into a young nurse. She can’t be much older than Gabby. “Oh, excuse me,” she says. I can see her cheeks blush. I’m used to that reaction. I’m not in the mood for giggly girls who fumble around words because they think I’m hot.

I point to Roni. “Are you her nurse?”

“I am,” she says.

“Is the baby okay?”

“They are both stable at this particular moment.” She walks to the monitor and pulls the strip of paper. She points to the top line. “This is her heartbeat, and it’s strong.” Her, it’s a girl. “These little hills are contractions.”

“Contractions? She’s in labor?”

“We believe that she’s suffered a partial placental abruption. She lost a good bit of blood.” She points to the crimson bag. “So we had to give her a transfusion. We also are administering IV Magnesium and Terbutaline to stop the contractions.”

“I’m sorry. Most of that sounded like a foreign language to me.” I glance over to Veronica and then back to the nurse. “What is a pla....I’m sorry. What did you call it?”

“Placental abruption, just a partial we think. It’s where the placenta partially separates from the uterus. The placenta is the baby’s lifeline. If it completely separates, there is a small window to get the baby out safely.”

I appreciate her patience and answering all of my questions. And as much as I’m trying to remember that I’ve been robbed of the opportunity to be an active participant in this pregnancy because she waited seven damn months to tell me about it. I feel like a douchebag for not knowing what all of this means. I feel like my lack of knowledge is indicative of my support, or lack thereof. “I’m sorry for all the questions. I’m just trying to understand everything.”

She shakes her head no. “It’s no problem. We’re used to getting asked a lot of questions by dads.”

I laugh nervously. Nothing about this is funny. It’s almost like I’m watching this play out before me. I feel numb. This is almost too much to handle. I wasn’t ready for this. To be responsible and care for a perfect little, new life. I point to the bags of medication. “And the labor, is that because of the whatever you just called that?”

I see sympathy in her eyes. “In a lot of cases, the labor starts first, and the abruption is secondary to the labor.”

“Wow, so she was already in labor...I had no--”

“Neither did she. She was having back labor. She brushed it off thinking it was stress or her heels.”

That sounds like Veronica. All things said about her, she’s tough. She’s strong. I shake my head though wondering if this could have all been avoided had she only seen about that instead of being so stubborn. Despite all this information she’s given me, I still don’t know what the future holds for them, for us. “Are they going to be okay? What is their prognosis?”

“It’s too soon to tell. The medication to stop the labor seems to be doing an adequate enough job. While her cervix has thinned, she’s only dilated to three centimeters.” One of the pumps starts to beep, which amps up the anxiety I’m already feeling. “What is that?”

“Oh, it’s just letting me know that I need to get her a new bag in a few minutes. No need to worry.”

I unbutton the sleeves to my shirt and start to roll my sleeves up to my elbows. I need to relax. Even though I’m sure it’s freezing in this hospital, I feel like I’m in an inferno. To think I thought I knew stress before today. “Okay, so it’s good that she’s only three centimeters?” I have heard people talk about women dilating before. I can’t for the life of me remember what the scale is though.