Page 149 of Resisting Isaac
A phone rings loudly, bringing us back to reality where Wyatt is studying the walls and Ivy is watching us with heart eyes. Probably writing this moment into a scene in her head.
The woman should come with a disclaimer:will turn your life into a screenplay at any given time.
We all scramble to figure out whose phone is ringing.
“Probably mine,” Elena says. “I texted my mom on the way here to let her know the baby was coming.”
I see her phone on the tray table beside the bed. It’s not lit up.
I feel for mine and realize I left it in the truck in my panic about getting Elena into the hospital.
“It’s me,” Wyatt says, sounding as surprised as I feel.
Everyone who calls him is in this room. Well, maybe besides Antonio.
He steps out of the room to answer it just as Ivy makes her way to us. She stops at the sink and washes her hands.
“Okay, lovebirds. I’ve been patient. It’s time for me to hold this baby and discuss all the ways I plan to spoil her.”
I nod. “You better soak it up while you can. Pretty sure Mom, Willow, and Sutton are in the waiting room eagerly awaiting their turn.”
According to Wyatt, Eli James is also in the waiting roomwith Willow, which none of us have pushed her to explain. Willow is a private person. We all know she’ll share her story when she’s ready.
Elena hands the swaddled baby-burrito bundle that is Rayne over to Ivy and the two exchange an estrogen-filled stare.
“Isaac,” Wyatt says sharply, his head poking through the cracked door. “Can you come out here for a minute?”
I glance back at Elena to make sure she’s okay with me leaving her side.
She waves me on, then says, “You can send your mom and sisters back if you want. I think it’s going to be a while before my mom gets here. She had to wait for my aunt to come sit with my dad before she could leave.”
After what happened with Diego, Elena’s relationship with her mom has been a little less strained. I don’t think Rosa Ortega enjoyed being wrong about the boy next door, but at least she could admit that she was.
Last we’d talked to her, she’d muttered something about telling his mother she was spoiling him rotten for years.
I kiss my girl once more, remind her that I love her more than my own life, then join Wyatt out in the hall.
His face is pale. His jaw is tight.
“What’s wrong?”
His temple flexes. “It’s Caleb.”
Seems like it’s been a while since I’d heard those words. It’s probably time.
“What’d he do this time?”
Wyatt shakes his head. Swallows thickly. Speaks slowly. “He’s in a hospital in Vegas. He’s hurt, Isaac. It’s bad”
My body goes instantly numb, the tingling sensation creeping upward from my legs. “How bad?”
I clench my fist in hopes of getting my blood pumping before I pass out.
My mind whirrs, running a million miles a minute with possibilities.
With Caleb it could be anything, but in a split second I narrow it down to Diego somehow making good on his threats from prison or a bull.
Wyatt’s eyes drop to the floor and I swear to fuck I see a tear. But that can’t be, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry. Not even at Dad’s funeral.
