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“I’ll be there in twenty,” I tell the doctor before I hang up and rise to my feet shakily.
My hand is still wrapped around my stomach, and I realize I was scared that my baby would never meet his uncle.
I wonder if Anson knows that Rhett’s been injured. I’m pretty sure he’s one of Rhett’s emergency contacts, too, so I'm sure he was called.
I wonder if he bothered to pick up.
My phone rings again, and this time it’s Goldie.
“Hey, how’s my baby mama?” She jokes when I answer.
“Rhett’s been injured. He’s in the Veteran’s Hospital now,” I blurt out.
“I’ll meet you there.”
She hangs up, and I start to feel better, knowing that I’m not going to have to see Rhett all alone.
I gather my things, my sweater, purse, can of ginger ale, and a few pregnancy pops before I head out the door. I’m still shaking a little, but the hospital isn’t too far away. I slip behind the wheel, trying to concentrate as I start the car and back out of my spot.
“It’s going to be okay, little one. Uncle Rhett is a fighter. He’ll be alright,” I murmur to my stomach.
The morning sickness has been really rough this week. I’ve gone through a case of ginger ale already. I ordered the pregnancy pops on day two, and I’m almost done with the box. I’ll need to buy more if I want to survive this first trimester.
I’ve been reading more about babies and pregnancies, and now I’m just looking forward to the second trimester when I hopefully won’t be so exhausted or sick.
I keep talking to my little bean on the short drive to the hospital and by the time I arrive, I’ve almost calmed down.
By the time I’ve parked and made it up to the front door, Goldie is already waiting there. She rushes to my side when she spots me and throws her arms around me.
“Are you okay? What did they tell you?” She asks me, and I wrap my arms around her.
“Just that he was injured while on duty but that he’s stable.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“I don’t know. I need to see him.”
She nods, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and leading me into the hospital. She marches right up to the front desk and asks for Rhett’s room number.
“Are you family?” The nurse asks.
“Yes, we’re his sisters,” Goldie lies, but we look enough alike that she doesn’t question her.
“Room 314.”
As soon as we get the room number, we rush toward the elevators and wait impatiently for the doors to open. We step on, and Goldie hits the button for the third floor. Nerves start hitting me as I wonder what kind of shape Rhett will be in.
I’m staring out the elevator doors when a familiar face catches my eye.
“Anson,” I whisper when I see him rush into the hospital with a frantic look on his face.
I don’t know if he senses me staring at him, but he turns, and for the first time in weeks, our eyes lock.
He looks tired and worn down. There are dark circles under his eyes, and I wonder where he’s been staying.
“Do you want me to hold the door?” Goldie asks as Anson turns and heads our way, and I shake my head.
“Hell no.”
