Against the Odds (Fighting to Survive #2)(42)

I rush over to Gracie and hold her tightly but gently. I kiss her tiny head and move my head side to side so I can feel her hair on my lips. Inhaling deeply I smell her unique hospital scent. It’s not Baby Magic, which I love, but it’s a clean and sterile smell. Gracie’s smell.


“I… I… I don’t know what happened,” Margie stutters. “One minute I was singing softly to the baby, and then all these alarms went off. The nurses and doctors came running from all direction.”

Mom comforts Margie and Gracie comforts me. I say a silent prayer for the very sick infant and I also thank God for watching over Gracie. Is it wrong to be grateful that it wasn’t my child?

Mom and Margie leave and I continue to hold Gracie. They didn’t bring the baby back in. I try not to think about what that means. The other mothers and fathers visiting their child also look fearful. Nurse Amy is out today. I’m not sure I would ask her about the baby. I’m not sure that I really want to know. I’m happier living in my own clueless little bubble. I text Robert because I feel the need to be close to him.

Leah: How’s your workout, Ace?

Robert: It’s good. Is everything all right?”

Leah: It’s good. Gracie’s wonderful and she misses you.

Robert: I miss her, more. I’m showering now. I’ll be there soon.

Leah: See you, soon. Be careful. I love you.

Robert: Always, and I love you, too.

I want to say to hurry, but I don’t. While I am waiting for Robert, I decide something. He won’t be happy with me or my decision, but my mind is made up. While Gracie sleeps I read, I pace, and I pray. My mind races with thoughts of Jamie, Madison, Gracie, and the baby who may or may not survive to see another day. The dark cloud comes closer; it looms, wanting to get ahold of me. Why me?

I’m feeding Gracie when Robert walks through the door. He nods in the direction of some of the other parents. Some parents are attending to their child’s needs while others wait, just wait, for their child to get well enough to be taken off the ventilator or to be moved from their incubator. Whoever said that time stands still must have had a very sick child.

I smile when I see Robert. He looks around the room before he makes his way towards me. “That didn’t take long,” I say, returning his kiss.

He kisses Grace next, then says, “I caught a ride with Gus. I wanted to spend some time with my girls.”

“I’m glad you did. We missed you.”

When Gracie is done eating, I hand her to Robert. He positions her on his lap, cups her cheeks with one hand and pats her gently on her back. “Why do you burp her like that? She looks so funny when you squeeze her cheeks like that.”

He laughs as he watches her facial expressions. “I burp her like this so I can see her. I can’t look at her if she is on my shoulder. And stop calling our daughter funny looking,” he teases. “Gracie, did you hear Mommy say you look funny?”

I laugh, too. Gracie crinkles up her nose and begins to scream. Not a little dainty cry, but a full out bawling-your-eyes-outcry. “See Leah, you hurt her feelings,” he says as he puts her up on his shoulder. She calms.

I continue to laugh. “I see now. It’s a conspiracy against Mom. Tomorrow Gracie and I will plot against Dad.”

“My Gracie won’t stand for that. Will you, Gracie?” Robert coos.

I love watching the interaction he has with her. My warrior husband is nothing but mush when he is with our daughter.

I remember when Jamie was a baby and even in her toddler years, Robert would always refer to her as his Jamie. One night she was in bed and he was tucking her in. I was eavesdropping in on their conversation. He asked Jamie. “Whose girl are you?”

“I’m your girl, Daddy.”

I smiled as I listened to their conversation.

“Who loves you to the moon and to the stars and back?”

“You do, Daddy.”

“Whose little girl will you always be, no matter how old you are?”

“I’ll always be your little girl. I love you bunches, Daddy.”

“I love you to the…” he begins to say.

“Moon and stars and back,” she giggles. “I know, Daddy.”

He kisses her and turns off her lamp before leaving. I wait for him outside of her bedroom door and say, “Is this a new form of brainwashing?” I stand on my tiptoes so I can see him eye to eye.

“Is that what that looked like?” he asks in between kisses.

“That is exactly what that looked like,” I say, kissing him back.

He scoops me up and carries me into our bedroom. “I’m just reassuring her that she will always be my little girl.”

“I thought I was your girl,” I tease.

He shuts the door and lays me down on the bed. The tee-shirt that I am wearing — one of his —rises high on my thighs exposing my red lace panties. He smiles as his eyes travel up my body. He rips off his shirt and removes my shirt and panties before saying, “You are definitely my girl.”


“Leah? Leah?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts, “Yes?”

“You seem to be a million miles away. Are you all right?”

“I’m wonderful, now that you’re here.”

We visit with Gracie and I tell him about the incident with the baby being rushed out of here. I tell him they never returned and I’m worried. He reads Gracie a bedtime story and falls asleep soon after. I have to admit, this is my favorite time of the day. Listening to Robert change his deep voice to something calm and soothing. There is just something about a man who reads. There is nothing sexier than that.