Part 26 (1/2)
Julianne did not look happy to see me. ”Oh. You're here.”
I sat down on the chair next to her hospital bed, exhausted, sweat dripping down my face. ”I'm here.”
She s.h.i.+fted on the bed. ”Yes. You are.”
”How are you?” I glanced anxiously at the IV taped to her hand and the monitors that beeped continuously.
She ignored my question. ”You look . . . warm.”
”It's hot out,” I said. I closed my eyes. ”Oh, and I was kidnapped.”
”Kidnapped?”
”Well, not so much kidnapped as fooled.”
”Fooled? You?” Julianne gripped the sides of the hospital bed. ”That's hard to believe.”
”Are you all right? Should I call for the nurse?”
She waved her hand in dismissal. ”I'm fine. Tell me what happened. Distract me, dammit, so my body won't explode.”
I explained what had happened after she'd left.
She took a deep breath. ”I'm glad I saw Victor, then.”
”Me, too.” I stared at her for a long moment. ”I'm sorry.”
”For what?”
”For leaving you,” I said. ”For letting you get here on the back of some motorcycle. For all of that.”
She reached for my hand. ”It's you being you.”
”Well, maybe being me is a bit too much,” I said, fanning myself with my hand. ”I'm not sure I'm cut out for investigating anymore.”
She smiled. ”You'll change your mind.”
”I'm serious, Jules,” I said, shaking my head. ”We're about to have a baby. I don't need to be doing this anymore. I'd rather be at home with the kids and help you with your practice and just be a dad and a husband.”
She eyed me cautiously. ”You get . . . restless.”
”I know I do,” I admitted. ”So maybe you'll need to remind me of this moment.”
She laughed softly. ”I'll try, but I doubt it'll do anything.”
”And in addition to being a c.r.a.ppy parent, I've also been a c.r.a.ppy dad. Speaking of which, where is our daughter?”
”Still with your parents,” Julianne said. ”They took her downstairs to the cafeteria to get something to eat. She said all of this waiting was making her hungry.”
She paused and her face screwed up with concentration. She breathed deeply through her nose, and I knew a contraction was bowling her over. She expelled her breath slowly. ”Your mom said they'd keep her down there until you told them it was okay to come back up.”
”Okay,” I said. ”How are you?”
”I'm fine,” she lied. ”I feel better than you look, I think.”
I was still having trouble catching my breath and I couldn't cool off. ”I'm okay.”
”You look pale,” she said. ”You need some water. I think the sun got to you.”
”I'll get some,” I said. ”How close are you?”
She leaned back against the mountain of pillows behind her. ”I don't know.”
”What can I do?” I asked, feeling helpless. It was just like it had been with Carly. Julianne lying in a hospital bed, gritting her teeth and sweating, then screaming as she went into transition. As excited as I'd been about being so close to meeting our first child, I'd felt awful for putting her through that kind of pain.
On cue, she winced and squeezed my hand and I felt like the biggest jerk alive for getting her knocked up again. After a few seconds, she let go. ”Soon. Kid's coming soon.”
My head hurt and I felt a little dizzy. My throat was dry. But she wanted to be distracted. And we still had business to discuss.
”So. I made it here before the baby was born,” I said.
Her expression returned to the one I'd seen when I first got there. ”I realize that.”
”You know what that means?”
”Yes.” She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. I glanced at the clock. Her contractions were less than three minutes apart. ”I don't have to kill you.”
I forged ahead with my distraction tactic. ”It also means I get full naming rights.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared at me. ”I just said that so you'd get here.”
”We made a bet,” I reminded her. ”And I won. Fair and square.”
”What if I don't like your choice?” she asked.
”You'll have to live with it,” I said, wiping more sweat from my forehead. ”Do you have water in here?”
”No,” she said. ”I'll buzz the nurse.” She grabbed her little remote thing and pressed the b.u.t.ton. ”Now you owe me.”
”Owe you?” I was feeling a little disoriented.
”For getting you water,” she answered. ”So I'd like naming rights back.” A whimper tore through her and she writhed in the bed, twisting and bucking.
”Jules,” I said, alarmed. But my voice sounded hollow and she looked like I was seeing her through a tunnel.
”I'm fine,” she snapped, her voice warbling in my ringing ears. ”Water for naming rights. Even trade.”