The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman #2)(36)

A peaceful little girl with one hand on her head and the other hand at her mouth. A firsthand glimpse at what a baby looked like in the womb. She was outside of her mother, but not really born yet.

“It’s my first.” Holly got teary eyed as we observed the phenomenon with the stunned parents, doula, and birth photographer.

“Is she okay?” the dad asked, his voice a little shaky.

“She’s perfect,” Holly whispered, running her finger along the thin sack, touching the baby’s foot.

“What do you do?” the mom asked.

Holly shrugged. “I can remove the sac now or we can let her be for a few more minutes if you want to take in the moment a little longer.”

After delivering hundreds of babies, Holly still treated each birth like she, too, was experiencing a miracle in her own life. I felt that as well.

The photographer took a slew of photos of the rare moment. One in eighty-thousand births. I knew I might never witness it again.

When Holly and the mom released the baby from its sac, I laughed, but it was more of a sob as tears fell in relentless streams down my face.





“I SAW A BABY BORN EN CAUL!” I ran into the house at eight on a Thursday night. I didn’t know if anyone was home. I hadn’t talked to Rory or Rose in over eighteen hours. And I hadn’t seen Fisher since Saturday night at his house—the wine incident. “Hello?” I ran down the hallway.

Nobody.

I ran downstairs.

Nobody.

I checked the garage.

Rose’s car was gone.

Too much adrenaline ran through my veins. I had to tell someone, so I ran over to Fisher’s house in the dark. When I got there, more air deflated from my lungs. I wanted to cry because all I needed was a person. Anyone at that point to share my day. But Angie’s car was in the driveway. Despite my complete lack of peppiness by that point, I gave myself a pep talk.

If I would have been his clear choice, we would have already been together. No secrets. No guilt. But he hadn’t made his choice because on one side there was me, on the other side was Angie and his entire family. It wasn’t that his family didn’t like me, but there was no way they were going to shrug and kiss Angie goodbye then turn to me with open arms.

No way.

One of the many reasons I loved Fisher was because he had such a close-knit family, something that unraveled in my own life when I needed it the most.

“She’s out of town.”

I turned, standing at the end of his driveway as Fisher walked toward me in his jogging shorts and a hoodie.

He pulled out his earbuds. “She asked me to take her car to get the oil changed if I had time.” He shrugged. “Seemed like the nice thing to do.”

Yet another reason to love Fisher Mann.

“One in eighty thousand babies is born en caul. That means it comes out of its mother’s body still in the amniotic fluid sac. It’s the most amazing sight. I …” I shook my head. “I can’t even describe it. But I saw it. I. Saw. It!”

He grinned, a gleam visible in his eyes under the street light. “Do you need to kiss somebody?”

My smile nearly cracked my face in half as I shook my head. “Not somebody. I need to kiss you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

I giggled, threw myself into his arms, and kissed him with my hands pressed to his scruffy face. He grabbed my butt with both hands. That was when I released his lips and turned to look at his arm.

“You got your cast off. How does it feel?”

“Better on your ass.” He grabbed my butt again and pulled me back to him. “Are you coming inside? Or did you just come over here to stare at my house?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nobody was home at my house. And I had to tell someone, so I ran over here.”

“So I am just somebody?”

Grabbing the neck of his hoodie, I tilted my head back. “I share you, so you have to share me and my enthusiasm. If you must know, I was looking for my mom and Rose first because occasionally I value self-preservation. And I was reminded of that when I got here and saw Angie’s car.”

“Come trim my beard before I get into the shower.”

“Your cast is off.”

He grinned slowly, taking my hands away from the neck of his hoodie and pressing them to his face and the beard he wanted me to trim. “Come trim my beard before I get into the shower.” Fisher’s signature expression always seemed to be mischievous, but only with me. I never saw it quite the same way when he looked at other people.

Not his friends, Rory and Rose.

Not his sort-of fiancée.

Not his family.

Just me.

“I have to get home soon. I’m still on call for the next few days.”

“Come trim my beard before I get in the shower.”

I laughed at my lost fisherman stuck on repeat. A one-track mind and the most convincing smile.

“Remember what I said about self-preservation?”

Turning his head, he kissed my palm. “I would never hurt you.”

Oh, Fisher … I’m already hurting in ways you can’t even imagine because you don’t remember.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

I laughed, pulling my hands away from his face. “To not go camping with you and your fiancée. I realize you can’t say you’re sick because you’re never sick, but you could make up some excuse.”