Page 41 of Mine to Love
She hoped.
Grabbing the bottle of bourbon and a glass, she made her way to the front porch. Part of her was concerned Gabriel might run. He’d done it before and he didn’t have too many places to go in this town. More than likely if he did take off, he’d call Charlie.
At least in his present state of mind.
The second reason she went outside was she hoped she’d see Miles. She’d been hard on him and she wanted to rectify that before their date.
She found it a little odd and unsettling that she wanted this date so badly with Miles.
But it was the one thing she could call her own.
Miles sat in the waiting room of the hospital in the wing for high-risk pregnancies. He didn’t understand why they had checked Rumor into the ER, then they moved her there immediately, but what the hell did he know about babies?
Okay, he knew a little. He babysat all the time for his brothers and their kids.
But he knew jack shit about this part.
Emmerson strolled through the glass doors with his face whiter than Rumor’s.
Fuck. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“I need to sit down,” Emmerson said as he ran a hand over the scruff on his face, holding a small piece of paper clenched between his fingers in his other hand.
They’d been at the hospital for two hours. They had hooked Rumor up to fluids and something to give her the nutrition she was sorely lacking. Then it became a waiting game for the doctor to arrive so they could do some ultrasound thing. Once the doc showed up, they kicked Miles out of the room.
That had been thirty minutes ago.
“I don’t know what to say. Sorry doesn’t seem to cut it right about now.” Miles shifted, placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and squeezed. He couldn’t imagine what Emmerson was feeling. Or Rumor. The twitch in Miles’ heart over the loss stung worse than a bullet.
“I’m in shock.”
“I would be too,” Miles said. “I know how much you wanted this.”
Emmerson chuckled. “You don’t understand.”
Miles figured he deserved that because he didn’t, so he chose not to say anything, but he was taken aback by Emmerson’s response.
“Here. This says it better. Besides, I don’t think I can say it out loud yet.” Emmerson handed the piece of paper to Miles.
Miles held it up toward the ceiling and stared at a gray, black, and white image. “Dude, I’m sorry. But I have absolutely no idea what I’m looking at.”
“This doesn’t run in either family, so it’s not like we’d ever expect it or even think about the possibility.”
Miles brought the image closer. Damn thing meant nothing to him. “I know you’re hurting. I’m not going to say all the usual things about trying?—”
“Give me that thing.” Emmerson yanked the paper from his hands and shoved it in his face, pointing. “See that blob right there?”
“Yeah.”
“And then that one right there?” Emmerson tapped his finger.
“Um, yeah. But I don’t know what it is. Is there something wrong? Did the doctors find something? Is Rumor going to be okay?”
“Once she stops swearing at me, she’ll be fine.” He shook his head. “Two fucking heartbeats. Two fucking babies. Twins. Goddamned twins. My wife produced two eggs and I fertilized both of them. Fraternal freaking twins, which I guess does kind of make this my fault. Two kids at one time. How the hell am I going to do that? I was freaking out over having one child. Now I’m going to have two at once. And the doctor said Rumor has to stay in the hospital for a day or two while he figures out this morning sickness shit. Not necessarily from being pregnant with two babies.” Emmerson talked so fast that Miles couldn’t get in a word, but he didn’t even try.
He just sat there and stared at the image of two new little Kirbys and smiled.
“You’re going to be a great dad.” He slapped Emmerson on the back. “You and Rumor got this. And you’ve got all of us to… sit back, watch, and laugh our asses off while you try to navigate it.”
