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59
Kris
I may have gone a little overboard. The air outside was cool and revived my tired senses. By the time I got into the bodega down the road, I was starving. Seeing as I only picked all day because of last night’s spicy incident, I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I got the ice cream and chips, plus nachos with cheese. I’m a sucker for those cheap ass chips with the cheese that comes in those huge vats. I know it’s like the least healthy thing on the planet, but fuck me if it isn’t so damn good. Corn Nutz, hot fries, as they didn’t have the Takis she likes, and like twenty of the assorted dollar bags of candies, gummies, and chocolates has me almost collapsing on the counter like a little kid that found a twenty in the street. I’m smiling like a damn fool, and this guy probably thinks I’m stoned out of my mind. But I don’t care, I’m happy.
I’m in one of the greatest cities in the world, I got my girl, and she’s thriving, so I am too.
“Eighty-five, oh-one.” The guy behind the glass mutters, and I chuckle. It’s our birth years. Gotta be a good sign. Just as I’m about to run my card, my phone jingles to Tink’s sound.
“One sec.” I hold up one hand and grab my phone with the other, Seems she decided she needed something after all.
TINK: I’m bleeding! Please hurry, Pan.
I blink,then read it a second time before running out of the bodega with the guy yelling after me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode as I run down the road, dialing for the car. It will be faster than a fucking ambulance. Slamming through the door, I smash into Blue and Camden, who looks just as freaked out as me.
“I-I called nine-one-one,” Blue calls after me as I soar up the stairs. If they aren’t here by the time I get us back to the main level, it’s the car. We will blow every light and I’ll pay the fucking fines.
“Tink?” I call, hitting the bedroom, the door slamming open. I see Gillian on the bed with Nicolette, who’s curled up in a ball. Before I can move, I’m smashed into by Mariska.
“Oh-Thank God!” She pants, knocking me aside as she goes over with what looks like a pair of sweatpants in her arms.
My brain is mush. I don’t know what to do. “Tink?” I don’t even know if she hears me because the ding in my ears makes hearing myself impossible.
“Kris, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.” She’s sobbing.
That sound breaks the glue on my shoes, and I’m across the bed, scooping her into me. “Tink, I’m the one that sorry. I got you.” I kiss her gently on the head, not caring that she’s bareassed and trembling. I snatch the pants and the blanket, then hug her against me as we go down the stairs. I want to run, but that would land us both either in the hospital or dead if I tripped.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise.” I can hear the ambulance and see the lights as we descend. “See? Record time for New York. God’s got that, and I have you.” My mind is in blame mode. I knew there were risks, and yet my stupid ass put her on a plane and has had her running since we found out. Part of me is compensating for the idea that it may lose her and the rest of me just wants to suck every inch of marrow out of any time we have. Both are fucking wrong.
“I wanted our baby. I wanted it so bad.” She wraps her arms tighter around herself. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Tink, I’m right here.” We get out the door as the EMTs are making their way toward us.
“What’s going on.” One asks, and I start to ramble, but Gillian pulls them aside to explain. I’m a mess, and Nicolette needs me to pull it together. I hold her as the stretcher is pulled out, and when she won’t let go of me, I get into it.
“Sir, we can’t-”
“Shut it. I’m not leaving her now. Either strap us in or I’ll fucking walk us to the hospital.” I growl, and her grip tightens. “I got you. I promise we- you are going to be just fine.” God, don’t you fucking do this to us. Don’t make a liar out of me. Please…
***
Two and a half days. Two and a half days of doctors, monitors, blood tests, and EKGs just for them to tell us it isn’t a miscarriage. I thank and curse God in the same breath. This upper East Side hospital is nice, don’t ge me wrong. It has all the amenities. including CHANNEL products for mom, but I know Nicolette has had enough of it all. Being here, stuck in a bed, I’m sure that it brings her back to before her transplant. She hasn’t said it, but I can feel her depression. She’s smiling, but it’s forced, and all I want to do is hold her.
“Ugh, I hate this fucking little bed, Tink. I promise you that when they release you, we are going to snuggle and not come out from under the covers except for food and showers for at least three days.”
“Nice try, Pan. I’m over beds! I want to move around. They’ve said I’m okay-that, we’re both okay. So, I should be able to move around other than to go piss.”
I chuckle. “Okay, whatever you want, but we have to take it easier. Lots of breaks, and we take the car, no crazy subway adventures. We’ll have plenty of time for that next time we are out here, agreed?” I clasp her hand, giving it a squeeze for my own well-being.
“Keep telling yourself that, Pan. Maybe you’ll say it enough you’ll actually believe it.” She sasses me as she gets her bra on.
We’re leaving in a couple of hours, and she’s already telling them to take the monitors off and IVs out. They had offered to show us the ultrasound so we could see the wee bit, but we declined. Nicolette is right that seeing this kid right now, while it might relieve some of my stress, would rip us to shreds if this does end up badly. The doctors were gracious about it, though I did see some confusion in the nurses. Everyone has been good to us. The band has been in and out, and Gillian took charge of the move. That third-floor room, while nice, was to going to fly without an elevator, so I may have expensed a new home, a place that will accommodate us and the band. I haven’t told her yet, as I’m sure it’s going to get me smacked. But for her and our kid, I’ll take my lashes and kindly say, Thank you, ma’am, may I have another.
