Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(57)

“That's me! Thank god,” she groaned, trailing after the woman.

“The baby is fine. Ten fingers, ten toes, a beautiful little boy. Your sister said you could see her now, but only you,” the nurse informed her.

“Oh. Okay.”

Ellie looked tired. A kind of bone weary tired that Tate couldn't even begin to imagine. But she also kinda looked relaxed, and happy. She smiled at Tatum and gestured for her to sit down on the side of the bed.

“I'm glad you're here,” Ellie said through a yawn. Tate smiled.

“Of course I'm here. Everyone's here. Sanders is passing out water like we're at a cocktail party,” she joked.

“Good, I'm glad. Ang? Is he okay? He looked kinda green,” Ellie told her.

“Yeah, he was a little upset. Tell me, did your water break when you were on top of him?” Tate teased.

“God, you two are disgusting. No,” Ellie grumbled. But then she smiled. “But a minute or two later, and it would have.”

“Good for you.”

“Do you want to see him?” Ellie asked softly. Tate nodded, and Ellie gestured to a sterile looking crib that sat against the wall.

“Is he okay? Isn't he early?” Tate asked, walking towards it.

“Only a little bit, the doctors said I was farther along than they nthought,” Ellie replied.

He was beautiful. So beautiful. Tate picked him up and cuddled him to her chest. She normally wasn't a baby kind of person, not much into kids. But when he stared up at her with his dusky blue eyes, she felt her soul melt a little. A tear splashed onto his baby blanket, followed by another.

“Did you name him?” she managed to ask through her sniffles.

“I was thinking Shamus, after Daddy's brother. I always liked him. Shamus O'Shea Carmichael,” Ellie said, yawning again.

“Christ, he's never gonna be able to pronounce it,” Tate snorted, stroking her finger down one of Shamus' fingers.

“Don't use that kind of language in front of my son,” Ellie corrected her.

“God, he's perfect, El. Good job, good for you,” Tate breathed.

“At least I did something right,” Ellie laughed.

The baby had big eyes. Beautiful eyes. Both Tate and Ellie had brown eyes, so he must have gotten his eyes from his daddy. A misty blue, almost like Sanders', but huge. He was very quiet, too, and he stared right into Tate's eyes. She felt like he was staring straight through her, straight into her soul.

I want this.

The thought came out of nowhere, and some more tears fell. She had never thought about having kids before, it was always more of a “someday” kind of thing. But she was twenty-six. “Someday” really wasn't that far away. And here she was, caught on repeat with Jameson. He would never want to have kids. He wouldn't even call her his girlfriend, how could he have kids with her? He would never marry her, he had said so himself. It would never be anything more than what it was, right then.

What if I want more?

She'd had the thought before, and now she knew it would keep coming back. Keep coming, until it ripped them apart. Just as bad as Petrushka, if not worse. Yes, Jameson liked her. Yes, he cared about her, to a certain extent. But not as much as she wanted. As much as she needed. She laid the baby back down in the crib. Wiped at her eyes.

“Yes, Ellie, you did something very right with this little guy.”

When she wandered back down the hall, everyone was standing. Her father was demanding to know how the baby was doing. Ang was demanding to know how Ellie was doing. Her mother was demanding to know where the bathroom was, and Jameson was demanding that everyone calm the fu-ck down. Standing apart from everyone was Sanders, calm and quiet.

She burst out crying and fell into his arms. Pandemonium broke out around her. Was the baby sick? Was Ellie hurt? What the fu-ck was wrong with Tatum? What was going on? Say something, say something!

“She's fine,” Tate managed to choke out. “The baby is beautiful.”

Then Sanders led her off down the hall, hugging her to his side. She cried harder, so hard she could barely walk right.

“I know, Tatum. I know,” he said softly.

“You ..., always ..., do,” she managed to get out.

He chuckled, then led her further away from everyone else.





~11~


Tate went to visit her sister the next day, all by herself. She was able to sneak out of the house and steal the Jag without anyone catching her, though she did get several angry text messages from Jameson. When she got to the hospital, she was glad to see that no one else was there, either. She carried a small bouquet of flowers and tiny stuffed bear.

“You awake?” she whispered, peeking into her sister's room. Ellie nodded, but held a finger to her lips.

“Yeah, but he just fell asleep,” she explained softly, gesturing to the crib. Tate nodded and crept across the room.

“How are you doing?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Good. I actually feel pretty good. They're releasing me later today,” Ellie replied.

“That's great. Do you have a ride?”

“Yeah, my friend is gonna come get me. Believe it or not, Mother is going to stay at the apartment with me, till I get settled,” Ellie laughed. Tate laughed as well.