Closing Costs Page 5

  Jack turned to the tall, imposing man who, he knew, would just as soon stab Jack through the heart as acknowledge he might the father of his grandchild. "I'm staying." He surprised himself. He did not do blood, or even emergencies that required medical professionals, if he could avoid them. But he squared his shoulders and glared at Sara's father. Her loud groan made them both look down at her. Craig crouched down on her other side. She gripped his hand.

  "I'm…so tired." Her eyelids fluttered. "Can I sleep? Please?"

  The attending doc nodded to a nurse who pushed Craig aside. "No Sara. You have to stay awake." They draped her lower body with blue paper. Jack held one hand and Craig the other. Within what felt like seconds of them talking to her, keeping her conscious, there was as high, thin wail. Jack's scalp tingled as he looked up to see a slimy, pink body pulled from the tented area around her stomach. His heart clenched nearly making him forget his lifelong phobia about hospitals and all the mess they held.

  "Sara?" Craig's voice startled him. He looked down in time to see her eyes close just before the monitors in the room sent up a cacophony of noise. A team of scrub-suited people rushed in shoving all of them aside. Sara's father started to talk but Jack pulled him out the way. The three of them stood, silently watching the doctors revive her, the whole thing making him weak in the knees.

  He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor just as Sara's mom came rushing down the hall. Finally, the beeping leveled off and the team backed away. Her father rushed back in but Jack stayed frozen, his gaze fixed on Sara's face as her eyes flickered open.

  Thank God.

  Craig stood by the table where a nurse wiped off the small form. "May I?" he heard the man ask and watched as he lifted a tiny, blanket wrapped bundle into his arms.

  "It's a girl." Sara's mother knelt down and pressed her lips to Jack's cheek before he put his head on his hands and let tears slip down to the floor. "Both are fine, but Sara has to stay in the ICU a day or so. Go get some air." She pulled him up. Blake and Rob came rushing around the corner.

  He made a straight line to the bed, beating her brother by a couple of steps. Sara's eyes were barely focusing, but he touched her face and she looked at him. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Such drama."

  "That's all you, Sara. Always gotta be the center of attention. Now get some rest. I'll be here."

  Chapter Seven

  Craig's arms shook but when the baby opened her eyes and stared at him, he had never felt stronger in his life. She yawned, her tiny features wrinkled as she let out a small cry. Jack stayed parked by Sara's head, murmuring to her, brushing tears from her face. If Craig were a betting man he'd lay even odds on the fact that Mr. Gordon had shed a few tears himself. His whole body tensed when an alarm sounded near Sara's bed. A nurse rushed in, flipped a switch, stuck something in her IV.

  Another nurse tapped him on shoulder, and took the baby from him.

  "God, I feel like I've beaten with a Buick." Sara's voice sounded weak, scary.

  Blake and Rob stood in the doorway. Blake had a hand clenched around Rob's arm but as soon Sara saw him, she burst into tears, making alarms sound and a flurry of medical types rush in.

  "All right, seriously you guys, let's give her some space, shall we?' A large black nurse started bossing everyone around, eyeballing the collection of people in the room. "We're getting ready to move her up to ICU for observation. Only Dad stays with her, got it?" The woman seemed confused when Jack stood up.

  "Ah, I'll stay," Blake declared. "These guys probably need a break. And you," he pointed at Craig. "You need a shower and a change of clothes."

  "And a drink," he said, noting the shaking in his hands. The whole scene had been wild, intense, and amazing. It had set his nerve endings ringing, and he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay, watch, and listen to the doctors and nurses as they did their daily business of saving lives. He looked up and saw Suzanne walking down the corridor. Relief shot threw him like an ice-cold splash of water but the adrenaline rush whooshed out with it, leaving him dizzy and weak.

  "Hey, sit down before you fall down." She took his hand and drew him out to a chair in the hall. He caught a look between Blake and Rob at the sight of her but was too exhausted to deal with it. He let her tug him down into a seat. "I hear you were quite the hero." Craig put his head in his hands, trying to quell the nausea that rose at the memory of Sara, lying in all that blood. "C'mon, let me run you home."

  He looked up at her, surprised, but not at all unhappy with the suggestion. For six weeks he'd avoided her, embarrassed at how quickly he'd left her behind in favor of Sara's latest medical crisis. But the sight of her now nearly made him weep with relief. They both stood when an orderly rolled Sara's bed out, still attached to various machines that came along with her. Blake walked alongside her, his hand clutched in hers. Jack slumped against the wall next to Craig, Suzanne and Rob. Sara's parents followed behind her, only after Matt had shot sufficient eyeball daggers at Jack. Craig smiled to himself and then started when Suzanne put a hand on his leg.

  "Let's go." His chest tightened at the sight of the small clear plastic bassinette now rolling past them. He stood, put a hand on it to stop the nurse.

  "Wait. I…," he looked down at the now sleeping infant. "She's okay, right?" The nurse glanced at him, then at Jack, obviously wondering if she was authorized to say anything to anyone not "dad," but not quite sure which man that would be. The ER doctor who'd delivered the baby appeared around the corner and put a hand on Craig's shoulder.

  "Yes, she is." Jack shook the man's hand.

  "Thank you." The doctor looked around at the three men and shrugged.

  "It's my job. Now you should all get some rest. The fun, with regard to baby, has just begun. Trust me; I have twins at home myself." He clapped Jack on the back and started running down the hall to his next crisis. Craig stared after him.

  "Does she have a name?" Suzanne stood and smiled at the group.

  "Uh, don't know. Not yet, I don't guess. It was pretty traumatic." Craig tried not collapse from residual stress.

  "Kate." Jack said, as he sunk into the seat Craig had vacated. "Katherine Elizabeth." They all stared at him.

  "She picked it and a boy's name last week." Craig watched Jack's face carefully. His heart felt frozen in ice, realizing what he had denied for the last months. "But just because I know that doesn't change anything." He stared straight at Craig. "So don't worry." He stood and stretched, and put his hand out. Craig took it, wary but too shattered to think much about the gesture. "Thank you. You saved her life, both of their lives." He ran a hand over his face. "I'm a wreck. You handled everything well, very well." Craig put a hand on the other man's arm, but words that truly reflected how he felt escaped him.

  He watched as Rob put an arm around Jack's shoulders. "This is about as fucked-up a celebration as it gets but, can I buy you a beer? Something harder?" The tall blonde man smiled at them both, let his eyes flick over the attractive redhead at his side. "Suzanne."

  She lifted her chin. "Rob." Without thinking about it, Craig slipped his arm around her waist, tried to defray some of the tension between them. She shrugged him off. "I'm okay. Let's go." Rob raised an eyebrow at him before he turned, forcing his wobbly legs to move forward. He felt like he could sleep for a week.

  ****

  By the time she pulled into his condo's underground parking garage, Craig realized something about the slight red headed woman behind the wheel – she was not only one of the most attractive women he'd ever seen, but she had an aura of calm about her that took the tension right out of him. He rolled his neck around and tried not to stare at her too obviously.

  "Coming up?" He asked, one hand on the door, not sure if he wanted it or not. His feelings for Sara and the baby he'd watched taken from her body represented the most complicated and irritating set of emotions he'd experienced. The past year had been a whirl of together, apart, together and finally apart – and then, the big news. Suzanne smiled and it
lifted his heart, forcing words from his lips. "I want you to."

  "All right." She followed him to the lift.

  He slid his key card into the elevator's locking mechanism, sending it to the topmost floor. She wandered into the kitchen, leaving him to ponder the weird turn of events of the previous twelve hours. He could be a father, then again he might not be. He loved Sara, so much his head still pounded at the memory of her body seizing and the sounds of the beeping alarms around her. Then again, he felt himself falling into an infatuation with the woman currently rummaging around in his refrigerator. Feeling like a side story in a daytime drama, he staggered into the bathroom. After shucking his shirt and pants, throwing them straight into the garbage, he turned the shower on full-blast hot. Letting steam spill into the room he flopped down on his bed and tried to still his whirling emotions.

  He launched himself off the bed when a hand landed on his bare chest. "What the…" His heart pounded in his ears. Suzanne stood, cup of coffee in hand, concern in her gaze. "Shit." The running water had stopped. "How long did I…" He reddened, and tugged the duvet over his nakedness.

  "Over an hour. I came in to check on you and turned off your shower before you drained the building of hot water." He groaned and flopped back onto the pillow. "I'm gonna go. You rest."

  "No, no, wait. I'm usually not such a shitty host." Keeping the bed cover more or less wrapped around his waist, he side stepped into the bathroom and shut the door. "I'll make us something to eat. Give me a minute." He shuddered as the cooling water hit his skin.

  An hour later, stomachs full from omelets and strong coffee, they sat together on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, in companionable silence. After filling her in on his story, the dead father, abandoned college degree, he stopped and looked up at the ceiling for a minute. "You know, I think I want to go to medical school."

  She stared at him. "Wow. Okay."

  "I know, kind of a shock, but today was such a buzz…," to his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder. After a minute, he put his arm around her.

  "My late husband was a doctor."

  "Oh. Small world. I mean, you know…"

  "I know. Full of surprises. That's me." Craig sighed when she snuggled in closer. "I don't have a pretty story, Craig. I'll warn you now."

  "Who does?"

  She laughed, and when she lifted her face to his, kissing her seemed like the most perfect thing to do, ever.

  Chapter Eight

  Sara slapped at the alarm clock, but it wouldn't stop crying. She sat, and gasped at the pain that assaulted her every nerve ending.

  Holy shit, my hair even hurts.

  She looked up at the ceiling and tried to get her bearings. The sound kept going and, in some sick perversion of Pavlov's principle, her breasts suddenly tingled and started to leak. She groaned and rolled onto her stomach remembering that her mom had left the day before after a long six weeks of hovering. Damn if she wouldn't give anything for the woman to be back; just to go pick the kid up now and placate her a while so Sara could sleep.

  The mewling progressed to crying. The pillow Sara pulled over her own head did not shut it out. When the sound grew predictably to a full-throated screech of anger Sara heaved herself out of bed and stumbled across the hall, nearly tripping over the boxes still sitting half opened and mostly ignored.

  This must be the seventh circle of hell.

  Three o'clock that afternoon, convinced she had not a single mothering gene in her entire body, Sara sat on the couch, still in her pajamas, baby puke on one shoulder and the distinct odor of shit in her nose. Katie had cried so long and enthusiastically she'd been reduced to pitiful hiccups interspersed with hoarse yelps. Then had drifted off in spite of herself.

  As she'd finally quieted, the doorbell rang, making them both jump. "Shit, shit, shit." Sara placed the baby on a blanket on the couch and prayed to all that was holy for her to stay asleep for a few minutes before opening the door. She burst into tears at the sight of Craig, his crooked, familiar smile the best thing she'd seen in a week. Suzanne lurked behind him, holding a plate of homemade cookies.

  Craig hugged her, then pushed her back, his nose wrinkling. "Yeah, I'm here. Go take a shower. You reek of baby."

  "Gladly. She's over there. Good luck." Sara escaped to the upstairs of the small Cape Cod she'd purchased. Katie had been so easy for a few weeks, then all colicky hell had broken loose, just in time for her parents to go back to Florida. Sara had never felt more abandoned in her life. She and Katie had sat and cried together for a solid hour that day. And things had devolved from there.

  Reinforced but still bone tired after a long hot shower, she emerged to the sound of actual cooing. She tugged on jeans and a t-shirt and peeked around the corner. Craig sat with Katie on his legs, which he had bent up on the couch. They seemed to be communing or something and Sara couldn't help but smile at the sight of Craig's goofy face as he baby-talked his way into the record books. She fired up a pot of coffee, bringing them all a cup, happy to surrender the kid to someone else for a while.

  She leaned on the doorway a minute, observed the utter chaos all around, boxes half opened, towels, dishes and clothes strewn all around the small two-story house she'd bought in order to feel more responsible as a mom. Her own mother had offered to help, to organize, but Sara balked, insisting she had a handle on it, unwilling to own up to how helpless she felt.

  Not ready to admit defeat, that she really could not handle the new, smelly, complicated realities, tears pressed against her eyes. She blinked them back and handed Craig and Suzanne each a mug. Katie sat still, staring up at him from her vantage point on his thighs. Sara snuggled in next to him. Suzanne sipped her coffee from her spot on a chair across the room. Sara knew something was up between them, but shoved the green-eyed monster down underneath the piles of guilt she hauled around regarding Craig and Jack.

  "What are you anyway, the baby whisperer? She's been screaming at the top of her damn lungs since she got up at like, six a.m. today."

  "Probably just a fresh set of hands did it." He put an arm around her, kissed her hair. She felt good there with him, but in a way that was somehow altered. She looked at Suzanne.

  "I'm happy for you guys." She said, leaning forward to look into Suzanne's eyes.

  "Thanks," the woman said, ever the cool cucumber Sara remembered from the time she'd spent as her brother's hot and heavy, just-widowed girlfriend.

  The doorbell rang again, making Katie startle and wave her tiny arms around in dismay. Sara left Craig to comfort her, as only he seemed able to do, and answered it. Blake and Rob stood, bottle of red wine and Chinese takeout in hand. Ignoring the part of her that had hoped for a different face at the door, she smiled and let them in. Blake frowned at the sight of Suzanne, but Rob guided him into the kitchen.

  "You know, you gotta get over this. Did our recent problem not teach you anything?" Rob popped open boxes, found a few juice glasses. He produced a corkscrew from his pocket and poured four glasses. Blake pulled the greasy containers from bags and rustled around in another box for utensils.

  "What? We worked through it. I'm over it."

  Before he could blink, Rob grabbed him, held him close, pressed firm lips over Blake's. He sighed and wrapped his arms around the man who'd saved him from himself, years ago.

  "There. That's more like it, no?" Rob smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. Blake had never felt better. The fact that the woman who'd broken his young heart sat out there in his own sister's living room, likely on the verge of a relationship with the guy who could possibly be the father of his niece, weird. But no longer under his skin, like it might have been once. Blake shook his head.

  "Our soap opera continues." He pushed Rob away, opened all the containers and found paper plates Sara must have bought as a stopgap until she could get unpacked. He watched Rob's broad shoulders, his strong back and had to stop himself from reaching out for more. "I love you." He contented himself with this.

  Rob turned
. "I know. Now let's go play uncle a while, get it out of our collective systems."

  "Already on it." Blake loved holding Katie. Between him and Craig, they formed a two-man front against the afternoons and evenings of colic that had developed in the previous weeks. Content and happy, he plucked Katie off Craig's lap, patted Sara's head and smiled at Suzanne before whisking the baby back to her room.

  He took a deep sniff of Katie's head. Closed his eyes as she batted at his face, her perfect face breaking into a grin. "I love you," he whispered.

  He turned, observed the tall man leaning in the doorway. "You know," Rob smiled and took Katie from his arms, did a quick efficient diaper change, and laid her in the crib. "You gotta let her work through some of this herself." Blake lingered, watching as she rooted around, settling herself for sleep. His chest constricted at the sight. He couldn't really explain why. Rob put an arm around him, kissed him. "Your sister I mean. Not your niece." Blake sighed and stepped away from his lover.

  "Damn Rob. Is there anything I can do right relative to my sister in your eyes?" Anger surged through him. Rob stood, his blue eyes calm.

  "Yes. You can." He took Blake's hand and pulled him close again. "Sorry. I'm just over reacting again. Let's go feed everybody."

  Blake took one last look at Katie, and followed Rob back to the kitchen.

  Sara watched him go, observed the give and take between her brother, his lover, and his former lover. Suddenly so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open, she leaned over on Craig's shoulder. He and Suzanne and Rob chatted, none of which she heard anymore.

  A set of arms lifted her. She struggled to wake up, to play hostess. "Shh," a voice whispered. "I've got you."

  "Jack?" She put her arms around his neck, leaned into his chest, which rumbled with amusement.

  "No, honey, it's Rob. But I can call him if you want me to." She sighed as he laid her in the bed, pulling covers up under her chin.