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“Go for a walk, Eddie. I will deal with it,” Harrison says, grabbing my other shoulder and pushing me along, separating her from me. He knows. He knows as well as I do that this is a setup, and I give him a forced smile and walk down the hall. I have no idea where I am going, but I let my legs carry me away, wishing I could just walk straight to Pinkie, yet knowing she doesn’t want me. Not anymore.
CHAPTER THIRTY - KATIE
Iwatch him walk away, defeated.
“Who is that?” I ask Shelley, the two of us are trying to look busy at the nurses' station, but looking over the computer screen at one situation only.
“Valerie Van Cleef. A society princess. Her family owns the other half of Baltimore,” she whispers as we watch the governor now talking to the beautiful woman. She is everything I am not. Shiny chestnut hair, untarnished skin, glossy lips, big brown eyes. Her outfit immaculate, her nails long and polished. I am pretty sure the bag she is carrying is designer and probably worth what I get paid a year.
“Are she and Eddie…?” I let the question linger, not sure exactly what I am asking.
“Apparently, Eddie hasn’t been seen with a woman for months. Obviously, we both know why, because he has been with you,” Shelley says, clearly on team Eddie, although I know she isn’t happy he lied to me.
“She looked a littlefamiliarwith him,” I say, jealousy coiling in my body. When I saw her touch his shoulder, I wanted to walk over there and scratch out her perfect eyes. I wanted to rip her hands from his body and jump into his arms instead.
“Of course, she did. That’s what women do with the Rothschild boys. They throw themselves at them. I kinda feel sorry for them,” Shelley says, and I squint at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it is easy to look at them and think they are good-looking and wealthy and own half the state, but what do you think it would be like for them to meet someone, only to understand that ninety-nine percent of the people they meet only like them because of their name or their money?” It sounds similar to something Eddie mentioned to me, but now that the stubborn fire in me has had a chance to calm down, and the shock of it all has worn off a little, the words penetrate more than they did before.
“I think it would be much easier to fend off the advances of beautiful women than it would be to wonder where your next meal is coming from,” I huff out.
“Now don't go putting your own trauma onto others who had nothing to do with putting it there. Seems to me that you and Eddie both have feelings for each other, and while I don’t condone lying, I think he needs you now more than ever if Valerie Van Cleef is on the scene. Just wait. I will put money on the fact that at least three other society women rock up today with flowers, all trying to outdo the others.” I don’t reply as I think about what she has said.
As I gather up the paperwork for my rounds and dig around trying to find a new pen, I think about the lunch in my bag today. My favorite sandwich that Eddie makes. It was left at my door this morning, along with the hot morning coffee. Today was the first day I drank it. My stomach already grumbles for his lunch offering.
“And what do you know… I was right,” Shelley says, and I look up, just in time to see a stunning blonde walking through the door in a sleek white suit, high heels clicking on the tiles, and a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. My fingers grip around the pen so tight, I am surprised it doesn’t break. I watch for a brief moment as Harrison greets her, and I hear her ask about Eddie before I huff and turn, not wanting to see any more and needing to get to my rounds before I finish for the day.
* * *
Tracey looksat me funny as I walk into the neonatal ward this afternoon.
“Hi. Which room am I in today?” I ask with a smile, although I feel it falls flat. I’m just relieved that my shift is over, and I can sit in the peaceful nursery and cuddle a baby to sleep.
“Room 206. You can take over from the new volunteer who is in there,” she says, giving me a soft smile.
“No problem.” Smiling, I push off her desk and start walking down the hall. Sometimes, I hold the same baby, and other times I can come in and have a different one each week. I look forward to meeting who I have today and hope that if it is one I have cuddled before that I can see progress. Those are the best days; when you come in after a few days away and see the baby calm, feeding well, sleeping well. Doing all the things little babies are supposed to do.
As I find the room, I walk into the door and stop.
“Eddie?” I suck in a breath, shocked, as I look at the man sitting in the armchair, cuddling the same little boy I had when we spoke a few days ago. The baby is sleeping, peaceful in his arms, Eddie looking tired as well.
“Hey, Pinkie,” he says quietly, looking up at me, and I watch as this large man, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up, holds a baby and ever so gently pats his bottom as he sleeps. He is doing everything right.
“How many babies have you held before?” I’m intrigued as I lean against the door, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
“This is the first,” he says, appearing to be a natural. “Tracey sat with me for a bit to make sure I held him just right. She told me a bit of his history.” He looks from me down to the baby and back again. “Apparently, they are looking for a foster family for him now.” I knew they would be, and immediately my skin crawls. Not all foster families are bad. Some are the most beautiful, caring people in the world. But that just wasn’t my experience.
“I miss you,” he says, and the air lodges in my throat.
“I miss you,” I admit. Honestly, because I do. I am just not sure how we can move past this. How can I let my walls down? How can I let him in? He has now revealed everything about himself, but I am too scared to do the same. The guilt of my situation weighs heavily. The horrible tentacles of my past continue to wrap around me and drag me back under. That is not something that Eddie can be a part of.
“Can we start over? Maybe we can just start spending some time together?” he asks, and I want to. I do. Everything in my body is pulling me toward him. But he lied. He lied so easily to my face.
“I don’t think…” I start, trying to find the words, because all I want to say is yes. But it is safer if my answer is no. I swallow the bile rising in my throat. I shouldn’t have gotten this close to him. I should have just kept my head down and laid low.
“I understand. I do. You see me as a liar. How can you trust anything I say now, right?” The baby stirs in his arms as he speaks. On instinct, his pats on the baby continue, tapping a little firmer, ensuring the baby knows that he is still there.
