Page 30 of Remembering You
7
The date was surprisingly easy considering all the pressure of it being Valentine’s Day and a first date. Marty sipped her red wine, careful not to spill any on her dress—that would be just her luck. Everything about the evening was so familiar and yet her fears about tonight sullying her marriage, her story, her love with Jim seemed to be dissipating like vapor in the air.
“Five?” Chris exclaimed. “You’ve got five kids?”
His reaction momentarily knocked the wind out of her. It was the exact response that she’d been fearing her entire life since Jim passed away. Especially when the kids were younger—what man would want to date a woman with five kids she was raising? Marty gulped and when she glanced up at Chris, his gaze turned softer.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I was just surprised to hear you had five kids.”
Marty smiled and swallowed the sigh caught in her throat. “Well, I wouldn’t call them kids anymore. My youngest—twins—are twenty-three.”
He blew out a relieved breath, his eyes wide. “I love kids, don’t get me wrong, but believe me when I say I’m pretty done with the child-rearing phase of life.”
Marty laughed, completely understanding what he meant. At this age? The last thing she wanted was another little one running around the house, or a sullen teenager slamming doors. Been there, done that, thank you very much. “Um, same. I’m happy to be a grandmother now.Justgrandma.”
Chris pointed at her and winked. “Exactly. You can hand them right back when they get fussy or have a dirty diaper.”
“How many kids do you have?”
“Two boys,” he said. “My oldest is twenty-eight. Youngest is Twenty-six. They don’t live too far away, which is perfect. Close enough to visit easily, but not so close that they come by with laundry every week.”
He speared his steak with the fork and took a big bite, smiling across the table at her as she laughed and brought her fingers to her sternum… an old nervous habit. Granted, one that had not surfaced in years. The heat of her flush surged up from her chest over her face and she took a sip of water to cool her heated flesh.
“How many grandkids?” he asked.
“Oh, I have a small handful. My oldest granddaughter is Maddie—she’s nine. And I have a step-granddaughter who’s almost two… Olivia. And there’s two more on the way—my daughter is pregnant with twins.”
“Wow,” he laughed. “If you guys could sing, you’d be like the VonTrapps. The… VonTripp Family Singers!”
“Oh God,” Marty snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.
Chris scrunched his nose. “Too cheesy?”
Tingles raced down her arms as Marty smiled back at him. “Just cheesy enough. Although, you donotwant to hear any of us sing. Your ears will be bleeding after one verse.”
“Noted.”
Francois came up, handing them each a dessert menu, dropping it onto the table in front of Marty with a quirk of his brow and a small smile. “Let me know if you want anything sweet tonight.”
Before either of them could look at the menu, Chris’s pager went off and with a sigh, he tugged his cell phone free. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m on call tonight. Give me a minute? I’ll call in and see what they need.” Marty nodded as he stood and walked outside, his cell phone pressed to his ear.
Moments later, Marty’s cell phone buzzed and she saw her son-in-law, Lex’s number lit up on her screen. Lex. Not Ronnie, her daughter. Unease crawled up her spine, a cold feeling of dread descending across her skin. “Lex?” she answered, lowering her voice to a whisper so not to disturb the other people dining.
“Marty,” his voice cracked as he said her name. “I-it’s Ronnie. The babies.” The cold feeling turned icy.
“What happened?”
“Her ovary twisted or something… she had been vomiting more than usual, but we didn’t think anything of it. And then, she was in pain. So much pain.”
Marty swallowed her gasp, taking a deep breath and waving Francois over as she spoke. “A torsed ovarian cyst? Listen to me, Lex. They’re going to rush her into surgery. You’re at my hospital, right?”
“Y-yeah.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sit tight.” She handed Francois her credit card as Chris returned, looking startled seeing her pay for dinner.
She stood, wrapping her coat around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “We have to go. My daughter needs emergency surgery…” Her words faded. “Wait. That call you got? Was it for a torsed ovary?”
Chris’s eyes widened. “Yeah. How’d you—”
“That’s my daughter. We need to get you there. I want you in that room in case the babies need you.”
His eyes softened and he nodded, tugging his coat on while I signed the bill. “Let’s go.”
