Page 82 of Book Boyfriends
“It’s notjustthat. Although I do love that about him. He’s dependable and sturdy. Even if he doesn’t have a plan, I know that he’ll still be there. That we can handle anything together.”
“He’s your person.”
This is the love that I write about… that I want. To have someone whose mere presence is a balm for any of life’s weariness and a cherry on top of its sundaes.
“You’ll always be my bestie, you know that.”
“Yeah, but I also know that in these moments hubby trumps bestie.” A soft smile curls my lips.
“Where is he?” She tosses her free hand up.
This isn’t like Rem. It’s been almost an hour since he told Hope he was only thirty minutes away. With my focus on Hope’striage by the midwife and the littleNo Cell Phonesigns on the wall, I’ve not checked my mobile.
“Maybe he’s in the waiting room. They only let one loved one in at a time.”
“Can you check?” Her smile is apologetic.
“Of course.” With a quick nod, I slip out.
I step through the mechanical sliding doors into the ER’s waiting room. The quiet hum of a TV underscores muffled conversations of waiting patients and loved ones. Scanning the room, I find exactly who I’m looking for.
In the corner sits Rem. His body hunched forward and elbows on his knees, he scrubs his hands down his face. Even from across the room, the worry that radiates off him is palpable.
I approach him. “Hey.”
He shoots up. “Is she okay? The baby? Are they?—”
“They’re both okay. It looks like a false alarm. They did an exam and are confirming a few things with the doctor.”
“They’re okay.” He lets out a hard breath.
“Other than a little bit of embarrassment, she’s okay. You should head back there.”
“Thank god.” He closes his eyes. “She can’t come yet. Hope isn’t due for six weeks. We haven’t finalized our birth plan or the nursery. I still need to put together the crib. We’re still interviewing nannies.”
“Looks like my niece is already a handful.” A silent laugh curls my mouth into a devilish grin at the idea of baby girl Lane messing up all his plans. “Hope’s in bay three. Why don’t you go back, and I’ll wait here.”
Eyes open and hands on his hips, he peers between me and the mechanical doors that lead into the ER. He just stands there, his face scrunched, and feet sealed to the scuffed vinyl floor.
“Both your girls are okay. It will all be okay.” My tone is coaxing.
“Will it?” he rasps. “The entire way here, every scenario ran through my head. What if I lost her? The baby? Both?”
“But you didn’t… It was just a false alarm.” Reaching out, I place my palm on his upper arm.
His eyes, the same color as mine, are glossy with worry. “But there’s no guarantee that something may not happen. No matter how much I plan, I can’t protect them. I can’t…”
“No one can guarantee a happy ending, no matter how much planning is done.” I motion to him.
“Things don’t just happen. You need a plan, Georgia,” he says. A muscle ticks in his jaw.
“I know, but we also can’t control everything. We can’t ensure that nothing bad ever happens.”
He rakes his fingers into his hair. “I feel so helpless.”
“You’re not, though.” I squeeze his arm. “You can hold her hand, and you two can face all of life’s uncertainties together. Just like you did for me as a kid.”
Each celiac flare-up or anytime our parents argued, he never fixed it. He never had a plan. He just sat beside me.
