“She’s so tiny.”
“But she’s strong.”
“I don’t know the night staff well, other than the brief phone conversation or two I’ve had with them. I think I’ll call now, just to make sure they know what they’re doing.” She started to get up, but Marcus put a hand on her arm, restraining her.
“They knew what they were doing, Lis. They had Randal Cunningham there within minutes. Save your worries for the real stuff. They said they’d call if anything changes. And they will.”
Lisa was silent for a couple of minutes. “They must’ve thought it odd that you were there,” she finally murmured, and Marcus felt another prick of guilt He wondered how she explained his supposed absence in the nursery to her colleagues. Or how she would explain it at other functions in the years to come.
His chest constricted, leaving little room for him to breathe. He needed to go out, get away, not just out of the room or the house, but out of her life. Except that he couldn’t. Lisa was his life.
“I’ve been there before, Lis.” He cursed when he heard his words. He was only going to hurt her more in the long run.
“You have?” Her neck practically snapped in two when she looked up at him, and the hope he saw in her eyes confirmed his doubts. Because at some point, if not tonight then tomorrow or next week, he’d only succeed in killing it again. She wanted something from him he didn’t have to give.
“Like I told you before, Lis, I’m not heartless. I love you. And she’s a very important part of you. I’ve been keeping tabs on her progress.”
Confusion clouded her eyes. “Then why didn’t you ever say anything? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve needed you, needed to be able to talk to you about her, to know that you care?”
His heart was heavy as he pulled her closer. “You’ve always known how much I care for you, Lis. I didn’t say anything about the visits because I knew you’d start hoping again, and I couldn’t let you do that to yourself. Nothing’s changed. I’m not deluding myself into thinking I’m the child’s father. I go there merely for you, honey, not for myself.”
She leaned against him silently, and Marcus would have given the Cartwright fortune to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. More than anything, he hated the way she’d learned to close herself off from him. The barrier that came up between them terrified him. His life wouldn’t be worth a nickel if he lost Lisa.
“Since you’ve been going, anyway, will you go with me to see her in the morning? I’m so scared for her, Marcus. Please come. For me?” Lisa broke the silence with her soft question.
The next day was Saturday. He didn’t have to work. And Lisa was at the end of her tether. Looking at the frightened expression still marring her face, he sensed that she didn’t just want him there, she needed him there. “All right,” he said.
But he was going for Lisa. Period.
IT WAS WORSE going the next morning than Lisa had thought it would be. She was trembling even before she got off the elevator. Though she’d known all along it could happen, she wasn’t ready to face Sara’s setback.
“She’ll be fine, Lis,” Marcus said, taking her free hand as they headed together toward the window in the nursery viewing room. “She’s got you to rely on.”
His words gave her the strength it took to look through the window. But even so, her stomach churned and she felt a wave of nausea as she saw the ugly tube once again taped to her baby’s mouth. She didn’t know how much more Sara could take.
The nurses hadn’t noticed her yet, hadn’t come to the door to let her in. Clutching the sterilized bottle of breast milk she’d brought, Lisa watched her daughter, looked at the unbelievably long lashes against Sara’s tiny cheek. Lisa’s l
ips quivered as she fought back tears.
“Her color’s good, Lis. She was kind of flushed yesterday.”
Unable to speak, Lisa just nodded, holding on to Marcus’s hand for all she was worth. Almost immediately her stomach started to settle down. It still amazed her, even after more than ten years of living with Marcus, how much his mere presence was able to calm her.
The nurse finally noticed them standing there and came to the door to meet them. “I’m sorry, Dr. Cartwright, but Dr. Cunningham said no visitors for twenty-four hours. Not until he’s certain we’ve got the infection under control.”
Lisa nodded. She’d half expected as much, but still she’d hoped. Yesterday she’d held Sara against her heart. Today she couldn’t even be in the same room with her. She felt Marcus’s arm slide around her shoulders. “Can we see her tonight?” he asked. “That would be twenty-four hours since she started the antibiotic.”
The nurse shook her head. “The doctor said twentyfour hours this morning.”
“Can we speak with him?” Marcus asked.
“It’s okay, Marcus,” Lisa said before the nurse had a chance to reply, though she appreciated his willingness to go to bat for her. “We don’t want to put Sara at risk.” She turned to the nurse. “Can we still give her this?” she asked, holding out the bottle.
The nurse smiled and nodded as she took the bottle. “We’ve been waiting for it. She hasn’t had her eighto’clock feeding yet.” It was almost eight-fifteen.
They watched the nurse take the bottle of breast milk away. “I’m sorry you can’t be in there sharing it with her, honey,” Marcus said, moving with her back to the window.
Lisa hooked her arm through his. “I’m just glad I have you here with me.” If she couldn’t be with her daughter while the baby took her first mother’s milk, there was no place else she’d rather be than with her husband.