I hear a sniffle beside me and grip her fingers tighter before letting go. Sam takes the small baby into her arms and whispers to him as soft tears fall down her cheeks.
Now, normally, I’m not an emotional guy. I can watch Old Yeller and laugh.
Okay, not laugh, I’m not a serial killer, but I can handle it with barely a tear. But right now, my throat feels like someone shoved a combination of cement and dry flour inside my mouth. Forcefully, I try to swallow down the grief building. No way can I lose it in front of Sam. I need to play the role of strong, silent support here.
But seeing a suffering baby in the arms of the woman I love isn’t an easy task. “He’s beautiful,” I manage to croak out, sounding like a sappy fool. But the words hit their mark, and Sam grins.
“He really is,” Sam says. She leans closer and presses a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “You hear that Superman? You’re beautiful and strong. If Uncle Greg admits it, you know it’s true.”
I nod and swipe a stray tear away. Just allergies or something. “Oh he’s definitely strong. Look at those arms. He’ll be paddling thirty foot waves any day now.” Chuckles sound around me, including a few from the watching nurses. I don’t know if they’re aware of Sam’s accusations, but they are certainly keeping a close eye on us all.
After a few minutes of cooing more words at the tiny baby, Sam hands the boy back to Penny. They are only allowed to keep him for ten minutes before the nurse insists he needs to go back under the UV lights. The beeping of machines and bright fluorescents around me make me long for open air, to get out of the hospital and dive straight into the ocean. But there was just no possible way I could leave Sam to deal with everything alone. Though it might sound narcissistic, I am certain she was able to contain her own sadness much better with me around.
Penny sets him down, whispering sweet things as she does. It is hard to believe that this poor woman has been holding her son only a few minutes at a time for months. The agony on her face, so apparent in the bags under her eyes and the tears brimming, it’s hard to watch. Still, I didn’t falter, didn’t allow any emotion to seep out.
As we leave the NICU, another nurse comes by and leads us into a small room.
Sam starts to fill out the mounds of paperwork that come with being a donor, but near the bottom, she hesitates. I sneak a look at the question she’s stuck on. The words’ unprotected sex’ stick out.
When it registers why she’s stopped, I laugh. “Well, write yes, obviously.”
“It doesn’t seem like their business,” she says with a frown.
I lean closer. “They need to make sure you’re healthy. How ridiculous would it be to give a liver and an STD?”
Her face blushes, and she mumbled something. With one brow raised, my face tells her I didn’t catch what she said, so she repeats, her face growing as red as a beet. “You were the first person I’ve been with at all in the last two years and you said you were clean.”
My jaw drops, mouth gaping. “Two years?” I say, much louder than I mean to. She nods, circles the option, and signs the bottom. “Were you living in a monastery?” I joke.
She slaps me playfully. “I didn’t exactly make it a habit to sleep around.”
“That’s an understatement.” Still chuckling, I kiss the top of her head. “Well, I’m glad you decided to trust me.”
“I was drunk,” she says, but her tone is affectionate.
The nurse ruins our flirting session by plopping down at the table with a blood draw kit, and Sam quickly averts her gaze as soon as the needle comes out.
Seeing her afraid is strange. I’ve seen this chick tackle ten-foot waves with a smile. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little poke?”
She smiles shyly but doesn’t answer. The nurse makes quick work of getting the samples she needs and leaves the room. “What now?” Sam asked Penny.
“It’ll be a few hours before we know. Can we go get some food while we wait?” Penny was asking me.
Between the busy morning and the hospital, I had yet to explain that I wasn’t an agent anymore. But I do know the protocol. “They marked her appointment as taking most of the day. So yeah, as long as we don’t go too far from the hospital, it’s probably fine. I’d text your lawyer to let him know though. Just in case.”
At those words, Penny pulls out her phone and does just that. However, I guess it’s not a big deal as her lawyer is also her husband.
After leaving the front doors and making our way back to the parking garage, Tilly appears, leaning against the Tesla and staring at her phone.
“All good?” she asks. Everyone responded with nods.
“We’re gonna get some food while we wait,” Penny explains.
“Perfect, I’m starving. Someone ate all the muffins.” The tone in her voice tells me she is still upset, but I am starting to think it wasn’t Sam or Clark. She had refused to come into the hospital because of a call. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of moisture in the corner of her eyes. Figuring it was best left for Sam to ask about, I push the thought away.
I’ve learned a lot about Tilly in the last few weeks. Her history with her family is rough, and being back in the States is hard. But it’s not clear how much Sam knows. Maybe I will be checking in with her later after all.
Each of us climbed into the car. Though it’s my fourth time riding in it, I still get a little thrill. Being broke has never bothered me before, but damn it all if I don’t want a spaceship of a car now. “Burgers?” Penny asks once we are all buckled. No one disagrees, and she sets directions into the car’s GPS.