Page 37 of Until Waverly

Would I be considered an asshole if I told Sarah Jane I’d rather take our daughter later so we could bond longer? Probably. As upset as I felt, I didn’t want to be that guy. I’d never use the small bundle in my arms as a weapon. She was too precious.

“Mack said to hold off.” She hesitated, almost as though she were torn between her loyalty to her daughter and her loyalty to her husband. “He said she needed more time and to listen to her doctors. But she’s hysterical. More than agitated. Begging me to see Alandria. Jackson, she thinks something happened to her and that we’re lying to her. The doctors have suggested sedating Waverly to give her brain more time to heal. They’re afraid she’ll destroy all the work they’ve done in fixing her leg, plus aggravate the trauma to her brain.” She whimpered. “I don’t know what to do, Jackson.”

Sarah Jane didn’t want to make the call.

I understood how parents worried about their children now. I’d only had Alandria for under a day, and she was already my entire world. Deep down, though, I knew running our daughter back up there wasn’t the right thing.

Right now, I was grimy. It’d been over twenty-four, close to forty-eight hours at this point since I’d showered. My daughter might not care that I stank to high heaven, but I did. There was also the fact my stomach was so empty it was pressing against my backbone.

In truth, I was running on empty. It had been made clear earlier when the Redmans had handed Alandria into my care. I was going to be responsible for her, at least while Waverly was in the hospital. I was prepared to do exactly that, but I needed to be in the right frame of mind. Lack of sleep and food would cause anyone to be pissy. I didn’t want to be combative when I first saw Waverly again. Being rundown, exhausted, and starving—that helped none of us.

Opened us both up for a nasty reunion.

I flat out refused to argue or fight in front of my daughter. I didn’t give a fuck. She might only be four months old, but I refused to subject her to fucked up parents. If I didn’t take care of myself, that was exactly what would happen.

I hesitated to say it, but I had to. My job was to protect and advocate for our daughter now. So, I did. “I think it’s in everyone’s best interest to follow the doctor’s order. We didn’t get much sleep, and I can’t even remember the last time I ate, Sarah Jane. You and Mack Sr. are in the same predicament, but I’ve got to think about what’s best for me and Alandria.”

Sarah Jane went silent. I heard Sarah Jane sob, and for a moment, I thought she might have hung up on me. Then I heard Mack Sr.’s “Son?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We got Waverly,” he assures me. “You got Alandria. You hear me?”

I did, and I appreciated how the elder Mack was supporting me, considering I had knocked up his youngest daughter. She’d left me and then hid her pregnancy and the birth of her child from her family. He should have no grace with me.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to beat the shit out of me, then take my daughter and run. It’s what I would’ve done if it happened to Alandria.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “Keep me in the loop.”

Mack Sr. chuckled. “I was planning on it.”

The call disconnected. Alandria was still blissfully sleeping on my shoulder. A glance at the clock told me she’d be wanting to eat again soon. I pick up the used bottles off the table, placed them in the sink, and prepared another bottle one-handed. Once it was ready, I placed it in the fridge.

I debated taking her into Waverly’s bedroom. Ireland once told me sleeping with babies in a bed was a huge no-no. Yet, I had no desire to relinquish my daughter just yet. Even to get some much-needed sleep. Back on the couch, I went. I pulled over the small footrest, put my feet on, and got comfortable.

I sent up a silent prayer that the sleeping baby would stay that way for another couple of hours. Because once we were all awake, I’d be texting Hunter to be ready for me. My brother’s be on babysitting duties while I got a shower, then would also help me get my car to Waverly’s apartment.I can do this. No matter what, Alandria comes first.When Waverly woke, we’d be having a long conversation about keeping me out.

Never again.

Chapter12

Waverly

The soft beeping of a machine accompanied the ache in my skull. Each beep sounded like a backup warning alarm of a semi-truck, or worse. I winced, trying to move, only to pull something at my hand that stung like a bitch.Where am I?I tried to filter through my memories, but I came up with Swiss cheese instead of answers. Sure, there were bits and pieces there but not full scenes allowing me to recall how I got wherever I was.

I swallowed and regretted the scrape of rawness and bone dryness there. How long had I been asleep, and could someone turn off that incessant noise? It was going to drive me bonkers. Probably already had, and why I couldn’t remember a damn thing? I groaned, stirring from my sleep, and once again tried to reach for the noise so I could turn it off. Knowing my luck, I’d overslept.

Shit!Alandria! I jolted upright, then instantly regretted it when my head pounded and my ankle ached. My leg cramped. It was hard to explain the burning rip of ligaments, tendons and muscles, even though it was all a phantom sensation. I whimpered, crying out in pain. It was as if my foot and ankle were in my groin because of how everything drew up. In reality, my leg was straight in front of me, elevated slightly.

“Well, good morning,” Dr. Jay said, writing in my chart. “I was wondering if you were going to sleep the day away.” He turned to face me. His bright blue eyes were filled with cheer and concern. “You’ve had a rough few days.”

I frowned. “Few days?” My throat was drier than the Sahara Desert on a winter day. “How long have I—” I winced when the muscle tensed, and everything inside of it felt like it was on fire. “Ouch.”

“You can tap the button in your hand if you need pain meds, Waverly. No one will mind.”

No, I didn’t want morphine. I needed to be clearheaded. Or as much as I could be with the dull ache still pulsing across my skull. “What day is it?”

“It’s Saturday,” Dr. Jay said. “You’ve been asleep for four days.”

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