Unexpected Fight (Unexpected Arrivals 2)
Tyler rubs his hands over his face. “I wonder what’s taking so long?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Justice,” a nurse calls, and we stumble to our feet. “Your son is back in his room. Would you—” She doesn’t get to finish before we’re racing past her and down the hall to his room.
Slowly, Tyler pushes open the door and steps inside. Ben is lying in his bed, still hooked up to machines, but he’s awake. His nurse is taking notes of his vitals on the machines he’s hooked up to. “Hey, buddy,” he says, going to one side of the bed while I go to the other. “Daddy and Mommy missed you so much,” he says softly.
One side of his little mouth tilts up into a grin, and my heart melts. “Hey, baby,” I whisper. He moves his little head to follow my voice. Immediately, I’m rewarded with the same corner smile. “You’re a happy baby,” I say, cooing at him. My heart is smiling, just like he is.
Tyler reaches out and offers him his finger, which he locks onto and immediately drags it to his mouth, making us laugh. I offer him mine as well, and his little grip is strong.
“Reags?”
I look up to find tears in my husband’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything else, but he does offer me his hand. I take it without question, and the three of us form a circle, holding onto one another. It would be perfect if Beck were here. Just a few days and Ben will be home. We’ll all be home together where we belong. I mouth, “I love you,” to Tyler, and he nods, swallowing hard.
We’ve been to hell and back in just a small amount of time. I’m once again thankful for the man standing across from me. He’s been my rock, even when he was crumbling himself. I’m honored to call him my husband and blessed to get to spend my life with him. I make a mental note to remind him of that often.
We each settle in a chair on opposite sides of Ben’s bed, not willing to end this connection we have with our son. I send up a silent prayer thanking anyone who will listen for keeping my baby safe.
Chapter 28
Tyler
* * *
I will never be able to explain my relief when we brought Ben home from the hospital last night. Five long days after his surgery. He’s doing great, and the doctors have assured us the patch is doing its job. Our friends and family wanted to be there to greet us, but we asked them not to. It was hard since they were there for us through all of this. However, we were advised for at least a few more weeks to keep him as healthy, and away from as many germs, as possible. With that knowledge, our moms and Dawn took that and ran with it. They sanitized our house top to bottom. Kendall was going to help, but we asked her to stay with Beck.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. I kept checking on both boys, making sure they were breathing. Especially Beck. We have no idea if he was born with the same condition.
That brings me to today. I’m back at the children’s hospital with Beck. He has his testing today to make sure his heart is healthy and free of holes. It sounds funny to say it, but it’s scary as fuck.
Reagan and I debated on who should be here today. We both wanted to be yet felt it was important to keep Ben at home and not take him out in public. We decided she would stay home with Ben, and I would take Beck. We’re sitting in the waiting room, and he’s snoozing away in his car seat. He has no idea he’s about to be woken up to see if he was born with a heart like Ben’s.
“Beckett,” a male nurse calls out for us. I stand, throw the diaper bag over my shoulder, and pick up Beck in his seat before following the nurse down the hall. “You’ll meet with Dr. Langston before we take Beckett back for his tests.”
“Thanks,” I tell him as he pushes open an office door and motions me inside.
“Mr. Justice, how’s Ben?” Dr. Langston asks as soon as I enter.
“He’s doing well. No complications that we can see. We’re keeping him inside. We sanitized the house and continue to do so, and we’re limiting visitors.”
He nods. “So many parents don’t take my advice seriously. It will go a long way with his recovery. Now, this little guy.” He kneels down to take a look at Beck. “Any concerns?”
“None. We haven’t seen any changes, but we want him checked to make sure.”
“As a parent and a physician, I understand. Even if he were not a twin, I would still suggest all children in the family be checked.”
“So, any future kids we might have?” I ask.
He nods. “It’s better to know what you’re up against. By all means, the odds are slim that this will be Beckett’s reality or any future children you might have. But I always err on the side of caution.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’d rather know so that there are no more stop breathing moments.”
“Exactly.” He stands to his full height. “If you don’t have any questions, we’ll take him on back and get started.”
“Just one. When will we know?”
“Today.”
I nod. I feel like I’ve sent up thousands of silent prayers in the last few months, but that doesn’t stop me from sending up one more. Please let him be okay. Bending down, I unstrap Beck from his seat and give him a kiss as he stretches. “Daddy loves you,” I whisper. I swallow the lump in my throat as I hand him off to the nurse who brought us back.
“You can wait in the waiting room. I’ll send someone to get you once the testing is complete.”
“Thank you.” Grabbing the seat and the diaper bag, I make my way back out to the waiting room. I try to watch TV, some kind of home remodeling show, but I can’t seem to focus. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I text Reagan.
* * *
Me: They just took him back. How’s Ben?
* * *
Reagan: Happy his belly is full.
* * *
She sends a picture of Ben sleeping in her arms.
* * *
Me: Handsome kid. Must take after his mother.
* * *
Reagan: His dad’s pretty easy on the eyes.
* * *
Me: I love you, Reags.
* * *
Reagan: Love you too.
* * *
Reagan: Did they say when we would know?
* * *
Me: Today. I’ll know before I leave.
* * *
Reagan: Okay.
* * *
Me: I’ll call or text as soon as I know something.
* * *
Reagan: I wish I was there.
* * *
Me: I wish Beck and I both were there with you and Ben.
* * *
Reagan: We’ll be here when you get home.
* * *
I send a quick message to our parents and the guys letting them know what’s going on, then slide my phone back in my pocket. I pick up a magazine and mindlessly flip through the pages. Nothing seems to catch my attention. I’m nervous and anxious for this test to be over. Pulling out my phone, I check my social media and end up flipping through my p
ictures. I get choked up at all the pictures of the boys. I can’t believe we were so close to losing Ben. The day he stopped breathing was the scariest day of my life, next to his surgery and now today. Who would have thought, within four months of life, these little buggers would have to go through so much?
I’m at the point where sitting here one more minute is going to drive me insane. I stand and gather our stuff when the nurse who took Beck enters the room. “Mr. Justice,” he says. “Dr. Langston is ready for you.”
I nod. My legs carry me down the hall as my heart thunders in my chest. This can’t mean good news. Every other time it’s been “Things went well. We’ll be out to talk to you soon.” We’ve never been taken straight back to his office to talk to the doctor. I’m mentally trying to prepare myself for the news, but it’s impossible. Even though I know it’s coming, I’ll never be prepared to hear my boys are in danger. Then I think about Reagan. How am I going to tell her? Why us? Why our babies? Questions swirl through my mind as I enter Dr. Langston’s office.
“Tyler,” he greets. Apparently, we’re on a first name basis now. Not that I’m surprised as much as I’ve seen him the last couple of weeks.
I drop into the seat across from his desk, setting Beck’s seat and the diaper bag at my feet. “How bad is it?” I ask. Might as well go ahead and rip off the Band-Aid.
“Well, Beckett passed his test with flying colors.” He smiles.