Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“That’s right,” the doctor agrees. “Nobody knows what causes preeclampsia. There was nothing you could have done except bring her here on the double.”
We all relocate to a different waiting room, where the Rileys commence pacing again. They are big people, and more than one hospital patron leaves the room to stay clear of their paths.
I make a vending machine run for sodas, just to have some way to help. And when I hand Mama Riley one, she grabs my elbow with a hand that’s almost the size of Blake’s. “I’m sorry about all that unpleasantness earlier,” she tells me, her voice eerily subdued.
“Oh! It’s fine,” I say, embarrassed. “Blake, uh, he already told me what happened between them.”
His mother nods like a sage. “I had my suspicions.”
“Me too.” I blush. “I mean, I had my suspicions that you had your suspicions.” My tone grows awkward again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“To him or to everyone?”
“Both.”
She sighs. “I kept my mouth shut because it was obvious my boy didn’t want anyone to know. I thought maybe he was trying to spare his sister’s feelings.”
“He was,” I confirm. “But he was trying to protect Molly too.” Not that she deserved it. I don’t hate many people, but Blake’s ex definitely tops the list.
“I figured that too.” She nods sadly. “That’s Blakey’s best trait, you know. His need to protect. To make everyone happy…”
Even if it means sacrificing his own happiness is the unfinished sentiment. And my heart clenches painfully, because I know it’s true. As over the top as Blake is, he lives his entire life for other people. Look at the way he took Wes under his wing last season, the way he dropped everything to help take care of Jamie when he was sick.
Blake Riley is a better man than anyone gives him credit for. And I’m ashamed of myself. I’m so fucking ashamed for ever believing that he was just a stupid jock who was incapable of being serious.
“Anyway, you’re a trouper, Jess,” Mama Riley says while I continue to beat myself up for being such a jackass. “Just want you to know I appreciate it.”
Then she gives me another oxygen-depriving hug, which I try to reciprocate. Maybe in time, I’ll learn to get a full breath of air before she does that.
It’s only an hour later when Charlie reappears in the waiting room wearing a surgical smock and a smile. “It’s a girl!” he announces. “Six pounds even. No name yet, but we’re working on it. Brenna’s all woozy, so I think my choice will prevail.”
Mama Riley gallops over and places both hands on his shoulders. “Is Brenna okay?”
“Of course. She just yelled at me to take more pictures, so I’m thinking that’s a good sign.”
The other Rileys swarm Charlie to congratulate him. But not me. I need to sit down, like, yesterday. I slide into a chair, relief washing over me. The room is too bright all of a sudden, and there’s not enough air. Brenna could’ve died. The blood pressure the doctor rattled off in the waiting room downstairs was scarily high. And when I googled preeclampsia during my sister’s pregnancy, I’d been greeted by a lengthy list of horror stories involving seizures and both maternal and fetal death.
I put my elbows on my knees and curl up around myself, quietly freaking out while the Riley family rejoices.
“Jessie?” Blake sits beside me. When he takes my hand, his is cool where mine is clammy. “Hey…” He kisses my palm. “What’s the matter? Everything is fine.”
“I know.” My voice shakes. “It’s just…” My whole body shudders as I imagine other outcomes. “That was scary,” I croak.
“Oh, baby.” Blake pulls me onto his lap and kisses my neck. “You were amazing. You knew exactly what was wrong and lit a fire under everyone to get to the hospital.”
“I was just guessing.”
“Naw,” he scoffs. “You saw some things. You had a gut feeling. You went with it. That’s all everyone does. That’s how I win hockey games. That’s how your man Hozier writes those songs that make the girls throw their panties at the stage.” He runs a comforting hand down my hair, and I lean back into his touch. “You know what? I have a gut feeling right now too. It says my girl hasn’t eaten all day, and she’s fried. We’re gonna take a peek at the baby, and then we’ll go fix that, okay?”
Someone brings us some pretzels and soda from the vending machines, and a bit later, we’re summoned to the nursery window. There behind the glass, in a little bassinet, is the newest Riley. She’s a teeny peanut-shaped person swaddled like a burrito in a blanket, wearing a pink-and-white-striped cap. All that’s visible is her round cheek and a shock of brown hair poking from beneath the edges of the cap. Her eyes are scrunched tightly shut, as if her slumber requires great determination.