I normally hate everything about hospitals. The beeping machines overstimulate me, the smell of antiseptic cleaners is enough to make anyone ill, and the sterile white environments are painfully void of cheer. Who designs these places anyway?
But this morning, as I walk through the hospital’s main entrance doors, none of that bothers me. My sneakers squeak almost joyfully on the polished linoleum floor as I clutch my coffee, heading straight to my sister’s room.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not on top of my game. The greasy fast food probably wasn’t a wise idea, and neither was the mere four hours of sleep I got last night. But there’s a clarity in my head that hasn’t made an appearance since I set foot in Wilmington.
And it’s Christmas Eve.
Almost my favorite day of the year.
Though nothing about this holiday season has led to a normal Christmascelebration—then again, it’s fitting in a way.
It feels like I’ve gone through a war since I left my condo in the city eight days ago, but as I see movement in the room at the end of the hallway and take a sip of my hot peppermint latte, there’s a little glimmer of hope.
The glimmer glows brighter when I stumble through the door and Fia’s sitting up in bed, a smile stretching across her face whenshe sees me. The IVs are removed, a hand rests on her belly, and her long hair is braided.
“Good morning, merry Christmas Eve!” I give her a light hug.
“You’re right on time!” She yawns, then her eyes go wide at the sight of the twenty-four-ounce coffee mug in my hand. “Wow…rough night?”
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep well.” I brush it off, not wanting to go into details, like Jesse keeping me up until two in the morning, his tongue ravishing every inch of my body.
Once he drifted off to sleep, I found myself caught between worry—that my sister would keep being stubborn and making reckless choices—and a sudden wave of gratitude, knowing the man beside me would keep watching over Fia when I couldn’t.
“Yeah, me neither.” Fia eyes the machines beside her. ”I hate hospitals, I can’t wait to go home and sleep in my own bed.”
They should be discharging her any minute now, so I sit on the edge of her bed, the thin sheet wrinkling under my dark jeans. “Seriously, Fia, you have no idea how relieved I am that everything is okay with you and the baby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Fia reaches for my hand. “Me neither. We’re lucky to have you.”
My heart bounces off my stomach, and I gasp, remembering the crib. The crib that was delivered and has been sitting on the front porch since yesterday afternoon. The crib that was supposed to be her Christmas surprise.
A quick knock draws our attention to the door, and a peppy young nurse steps in with Fia’s discharge papers. I stealthily send Jesse a quick text.
Penny:Hey…feel like being a hero again today?
I hold my breath, glancing over my shoulder at Fia. It’s not the end of the world if I don’t get it built. But I really wanted to pull this off.
My phone buzzes a second later.
Jesse:Does this have something to do with the crib we forgot about?
We. I begin to type, but he beats me to it.
Jesse:I already have the box open. Shouldn’t take me long.
Penny:I owe you
Jesse:I can think of a way to repay me for my good deeds
I roll my eyes, but a mischievous smile slips onto my face. I try to wipe it away, but Fia notices, standing at my side. She scans me up and down.
“Is that Audrey?” she inquires like a pesky little sister as I drop my phone into my coat pocket.
“Yeah…” I stop myself from lying. I can’t do it anymore. Fia is an adult, and I’m not protecting anyone by keeping this a secret.
“Actually, no, it’s Jesse,” I admit, and Fia shoots me a side-eye. “I actually want to talk to you about him.”
She fidgets with her sweater. “Oh, okay. What’s up?”
