I turn and stomp my way up the steps, needing to check on Melissa then go visit my son.
“You’ll regret this, Ridge Beckett!” she yells after me. “I won’t be waiting for you when this blows up in your face!”
“Good fucking riddance,” I mumble under my breath. I don’t bother turning around to address her, just keep walking as though I didn’t hear her dumb-ass tirade.
I take the elevator up to Melissa’s floor. Her room is quiet, nothing but the sounds of the beeping machines. Pulling a chair up next to her bed, I gently hold her hand in mine. She has no one, just me and our son. I think about my family, my friends who were all here for me today, who have been the last three days. There’s no one in her corner. How lonely she must be.
“Hey, Melissa,” I say, my voice low. “You did good today. He’s perfect, and so damn tiny.” I chuckle. “When I hold him, he’s so small in my arms. I’m almost afraid I’ll break him, but the nurses assure me that I won’t.” I gently run my thumb over her wrist. “You need to wake up now. I need you to fight to come back to him.”
That’s when it hits me that I need to bring him here. Maybe having him in the same room, or laying him against her chest, might bring her back. Hell, I have no fucking idea what I’m even talking about. I just know they said she could possibly still hear everything. If that’s the case, I want her to know he’s here. Give her a reason, motivation to open her eyes.
“I’m going to go down to the nursery and get our boy. He needs to see his momma, even if she is Sleeping Beauty. I’ll be back.” Standing, I kiss her on the forehead before leaving the room.
Once I reach the nursery, I stop at the window and look for him. It doesn’t take long to spot the ‘Baby Knox’ sign, my son sleeping peacefully beneath it. Although it scares the hell out of me, I can’t wait to hold him again.
I swipe my bracelet, which gives me access to the nursery waiting room. I inform the girl at the desk that I’m here to take my son to see his mother. She doesn’t ask for anything except to see my bracelet. I assume the story of Melissa, her coma, and me not knowing about the baby has rapidly filtered throughout the hospital. Everyone loves a good storyline.
“Hey, Daddy,” a nurse I’ve never seen before greets me, wheeling my son’s bed with her. “It’s time for this little guy to eat. You can do that here, or I can go with you to Mom’s room.”
I have a feeling this is not standard protocol; they must be able to see I have no experience with babies or any clue how to take care of one. They’re taking pity on me, but I’m grateful.
“Can we do it there? I just want him to be close to her. I thought maybe it could help.” I run my fingers through my hair. I know it’s a long shot, but I need for her to wake up.
“Absolutely.” She gives me a sad smile.
I watch as she signs him out and tells the others where she’ll be. As I hold the door open for her, we run into Reagan and Tyler.
“I had to argue with Mom. She wanted to come back first, but Dad helped to convince her that she needs a good night’s sleep because when you bring the baby home, you’ll need all the help you can get.”
Bring him home? I look over at the nurse. “He’s doing well. As long as he continues to do so, we can release him as early as tomorrow. However, paternity will need to be proven before you can take him. It might take an additional day or two,” she explains.
I nod, hoping those results come back fast.
“Can you keep him here that long? I mean, you won’t send him to foster care or anything, right?” Reagan asks.
Her words cut me like a knife. Melissa’s letter, her words are flashing through my mind. “No, do what you have to do to speed up the test. I don’t care what it costs, but he will not be going into the fucking system,” I growl.
Reagan lays a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s fine. Usually, we would involve Child Services and the child would be placed in foster care. However, this is extenuating circumstances. The physician’s already ordered for stat results on the paternity, and with Mom being here still, that buys this little guy a few extra days,” she assures me.
“See?” Tyler says. “It’s all good, my man. Where you headed?”
I know he’s trying to get my mind off the fact that my son could go into the system. Even a few days is too damn long when he has family who wants him. Me, his father—I want him.
“Uh . . . We’re taking the baby to see Melissa,” I tell them.
“She’s awake?” Reagan’s eyes light up.
“No, but they say that even in a coma they can hear what’s going on, so I thought maybe. . . .”
“Good plan. We’re coming with. Tyler and I stopped off at the store and bought some outfits, blankets, diaper bag, diapers—things like that.” She holds up the bag that’s hanging off her shoulder.
“Can we all be in there?” I ask the nurse.
She winks, grinning. “I only see two people, don’t you? Two people who are going to be calm and quiet and not disturb the patient. I know nothing.”
“You’re too kind.” Tyler winks back at her. Any other time, I would find this amusing.
The baby starts to fuss. “He needs to eat. Let’s get him to Mom, shall we?” the nurse asks politely.
I nod, and the three of us follow her to the elevator.
The nurse sticks around long enough for me to feed him and then leaves us alone. I fight back the panic that threatens to break free. I’ve never taken care of a baby. My only saving grace is that my sister and Tyler are here with me; Reagan used to babysit for the neighbors’ kids all the time.