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Harrison was right. If I had taken care of the problem at the beginning, we wouldn’t be here now.
Taking a deep breath, I push back the thought and try to soothe Miranda. “She’s going to be okay. Summer has to be okay because I’m going to marry her, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making her the happiest she could ever be. We need more time. I need more time with her. I thought…I thought we—”
Miranda pulls back, wiping her face dry as she levels me with an unwavering stare. “You already make her so very happy, enough that I know she’ll fight with everything she’s got to come back to you, and that little boy in there…”
Tears glisten in her eyes as we look toward Easton. He’s calmed down, and while they’re still monitoring him, Becca is sitting him up on the bed. I watch as she wriggles her closed hands in the air and then holds up different fingers for him to call out the numbers.
“I’ll let you get back to him.” Miranda blows out a breath, and before she walks away, I tell her, “You’re welcome to wait with us…”
“Are you sure? Maria and Rosie are sitting out in the waiting room with your friends. I can go and sit with them for a while… I…I don’t want to intrude or—”
“Miranda,” I say, taking her into the room with me. “I just told you I’m going to marry your daughter. I guess that makes us family, so you aren’t intruding. And besides, I don’t want to wait to find out what’s happening with Summer. You’re her mom—they’ll tell you first.”
“Where Sum?” Easton asks hoarsely, looking between me and Miranda. “Got booboo.”
“The doctors are fixing her all better, buddy.”
Becca chuckles at his big smile, still playing with him while the doctor tells me, “X-rays and ultrasounds show no signs of internal injuries. However, because of the severity of the bruising, I want to keep him in to monitor for any signs of concussion because there is a slight bump to the back of his head. It’s nothing that I am overly concerned about.” He swiftly adds the latter part.
“What about the ear infection?”
“Nurse Thorne”—he nods down at Becca—“has already inserted a fresh IV catheter, and we’ll be continuing with the antibiotics and fluids. The bruising is going to get apparently worse before it begins to fade, but that is all. You have a very strong and brave little boy.”
I suck in a long breath and let out an even longer sigh of relief. Once the doctor leaves and Becca has organized to move us back to the pediatric ward, both Miranda and I settle in wait for more news on Summer.
Every second that ticks by feels more like a lifetime of waiting, hoping, and praying. We’re in silence for the most part. Easton is exhausted enough that when I sit beside him on the bed, he drifts to sleep.
“Can I ask you something?” Breaking the silence, I find Miranda watching the two of us. “Why did you leave her behind?”
“Summer wanted to stay here.”
“But you were the parent.”
“At the time, I wasn’t the mother she needed. After her father left us, I wasn’t sure that I could give her the life she deserved. I tried, but it wasn’t enough.”
“You don’t think that you were enough for her?”
“I wasn’t. Everything was a mess, and even with two jobs, I couldn’t keep up with the bills. Her father was the main breadwinner. Without him, I could barely keep a roof over our heads while feeding and dressing her.”
“What about alimony,” I ask, stroking the bridge of Easton’s nose when he stirs.
Miranda laughs at my question. “That man left me with nothing, not even a small breeze of the door hitting his ass on the way out. It wasn’t until a few years later that he reached out, and by then, I’d lost the house. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but I did the best I could with what I had and until there was nothing left.”
Miranda pauses when Becca comes back into the room to let us know that the porter is on his way to move us upstairs. We’re about to continue when Harrison walks into the room, looking like he’s been stewing on rotten potatoes for far too long.
“Can we talk?” he asks. It’s obvious that he wants to make peace as he stops in front of me with his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans and a serious expression on his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, and now I feel like a jackass.”
“That’s because you are a jackass.”
Miranda shakes her head with a chuckle. “Men…”
“Yeah, but you’re an asshole too. You knew that I’d push back…it’s why you pushed me in the first place, right?”
He knows me far too well.
Looking over at Easton with more worry than I’ve ever seen on him, Harrison sighs. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah.”
