Page 117 of The Forsaken
“Thanks, Logan.”
“No need to thank me, old boy. That’s what brothers-in-law are for.”
Gabe smiled and chose not to point out that brothers-in-law had been the bane of his existence for the past few months. He liked Logan and was glad Quinn had at least one decent sibling out of three.
Logan’s phone vibrated only a few minutes later. “Right. Thanks, love. Gabe, Quinn’s out of surgery. She’s doing great. And you have a…” Logan looked fit to burst with the news.
“A what?” Gabe cried, suddenly desperate to know.
“You have a healthy son. Congratulations, man. Oh, gosh, I think I’m crying.”
“That makes two of us,” Gabe confessed as he sniffled away.
SEVENTY-FOUR
Hearing was the first sense to reassert itself. Quinn could hear the beeping of monitors, the low murmur of voices coming from the nurses’ station, and the squeaking of wheels on linoleum. She felt warm and snug, but her eyelids weighed a ton, as did her limbs. She’s sleep for just a few minutes more, she decided, allowing herself to be reclaimed by the pleasant darkness.
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” The voice was rich and deep with a slight Caribbean lilt. “Come on, darlin’.” The nurse touched her hand gently. “I know you can hear me.”
Quinn forced her eyes open. Thankfully, the overhead light was off, so the curtained cubicle was pleasantly dim. The nurse smiled kindly at her. She was an older woman with a face as round as the moon and almond-shaped eyes fringed with ridiculously thick lashes. “How you feelin’, love?” she asked as she removed the oxygen tube from Quinn’s nose and checked her vital signs.
“Groggy,” Quinn croaked. Her voice sounded as if she hadn’t used it in years.
“That’s normal. You’ll feel more alert in a few minutes.”
Memory came flooding back and Quinn tried to sit up, suddenly anxious. “My baby. Where’s my baby?”
“Don’t you worry, love,” the nurse crooned. “Baby is just fine and sleepin’ peacefully in the nursery. Dr. Young will be by in a moment to talk to you, so you just hang on tight.”
Not as if there was anything else Quinn could do. She was hooked up to an IV and a catheter, and her legs felt like something that had emerged from a jelly mold. “Where’s my husband?”
“Your man knows people in high places, I’ll tell you that,” the nurse joked. “He’s in the nurses’ lounge with your little one. She’s fast asleep, God bless her. She was worn out with worry for her mummy.”
Quinn teared up at the nurse’s words. Emma had been worried about her. The knowledge was strangely wonderful. “May I see them?”
“Of course, love. Just as soon as you get the all clear and get transferred to a room.” The nurse handed her a container of apple juice. Quinn wasn’t a big fan of apple juice, but at the moment it tasted like ambrosia. She was just sucking up the last drops when Dr. Young appeared beside her bed.
“Well, hello there, Mummy,” Dr. Young said, smiling broadly. “You came through with flying colors, and the little one is doing great. An on-staff pediatrician examined him, and he’s been given a clean bill of health. He’s a tad small, but given that he arrived three weeks early, that’s to be expected.”
“He?”
“Yes, a beautiful baby boy.”
“Phoebe Russell scores again,” Quinn said with a chuckle.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Can I see him?”
“Absolutely. I’ll have Nurse Winnie bring him to you as soon as you’re settled in your room.”
“When can I go home?” Quinn asked.
“We are going to keep you and the baby for a couple of days, just to make sure you’re both doing well. I should think you’ll be going home by Tuesday.” Dr. Young scribbled something in Quinn’s chart and turned to the nurse. “Mrs. Russell is ready to be transferred, Winnie.”
“Right. I’ll call the porters.” Winnie rushed off, leaving Quinn with Dr. Young.
“Well, congratulations, Quinn. I’ll check on you in a little bit. And so will Dr. Malik. I believe she’s already in the building.”
