“When are you due?” A cheerful voice came from beside me.
I looked away from Jasper playing with a toy car. Next to me a young woman sporting a small baby bump had taken a seat. She smiled brightly at me while she waited for my response.
I pasted a smile on my face. “June sixteenth.”
“Oh, you’re about to pop!” The other woman exclaimed.
I did notice that. Thanks.
“I’m only twenty weeks,” she continued. “I’m so excited, but really nervous, too, y’know?”
I smiled a little, nodding to her. I remembered that feeling. Looking at her, she was probably even the same age I was when I had Logan. How different it was now. My happiness at the life I was growing was always dampened by the uncertainty of our future. How present would Tommy be in her life?
“Do you have other kids?” The woman asked, drawing my focus back to her. I had the feeling that she’d asked that at least once already. When she saw she had my attention again, she smiled brightly. “This is my first. My sister had me bring out her little girl ‘to practice.’” She laughed.
I shook my head. “I have two boys.” I pointed first at Jasper. “That’s my youngest.” Sometimes, it hurt to look at either of them, but usually it was my little Jas that made my heart squeeze painfully.
I forced myself to continue and then pointed out Logan on the monkey bars. “My oldest.”
I frowned as the boy climbed up on top of them. Twice already, I’d told him not to do that. “Logan! Get down!”
I couldn’t hear it, but I knew he that he let out a very aggrieved sigh. As he started to climb down, I turned to face the woman next to me again. “Sorry abou—“
A child’s surprised, pained cry.
Hands shaking, I let myself out of Logan’s hospital room and stepped into the hall. I took deep, calming breaths of antiseptic-scented air. Growing up with a doctor for a mother, I’d grown up visiting hospitals often, so they’d never bothered me. I’d felt comfortable walking their clean, white-tiled halls.
Hospitals were pretty fucking horrific when my baby was laying in a bed with a broken arm. I was just barely holding it together.
I fumbled for my phone and called Tommy. Frustrated tears burned my eyes when he didn’t pick up; he was probably asleep. I called again and almost sobbed when his sleepy voice finally came over the line.
There was a brief silence. “What is it? What happened?” He asked urgently. “The baby?”
I sniffed. “Logan. He got hurt at the park. He broke his arm.”
“Oh, my God.” I heart rustling—him getting out of bed, probably. “I’m going to get the first flight I can. I’ll be there soon.”
Soon my ass.
As quickly as if a switch had been flipped, boiling anger rose in me. “You should already be here.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
I stood up when I saw the headlights outside. It was late and we’d left the hospital hours ago while Tommy was trapped on a plane. My fury had remained, simmering, despite the intervening hours since the phone call.
The man who walked into the house looked exhausted. “Can we not fight?” He sighed.
“Oh, we’re fighting.” If I hadn’t wanted to before, that question sure as hell made me want to. “Do you see it yet, Tommy? You’re choosing Ava over all of us. Your sons need you here!”
“I got here as fast as I could,” he defended weakly.
“This is not about what happened today. This is about every. single. other. day. You’re missing their lives.”
“If you’d just agree to move—“
“No, goddamn it!” I screamed.
I looked over with horror to find Jasper standing just outside his door. He looked between us with a quivering lip.
My anger evaporated. I’d been so careful throughout all of this—I’d never wanted to fight in front of the boys.
“Hey, Jaz. Let’s get you back to bed.” I turned my back on my husband and herded the little boy back to his room.