Page 56 of Written in the Charts

I shook my head, my eyes darting from Thurlow’s face to Serah’s and back. “What’s wrong?”

Serah shook her head, biting her lip. She blinked and scowled, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or feeling like an idiot for pushing me so hard about Gypsy.

“We’ve gotten a call from Mercy General. A young woman by the name of Gypsy Gardener has been admitted with preterm bleeding. Do you know this woman?”

My heart dropped, and I looked at Serah’s face. Why would she be bleeding? “Yeah,” I said, confused. “She’s my girlfriend. She’s pregnant with...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t know if it was my baby or not. We’d not had the test done.

“Evan, you have to go to her. I talked to her mother. She’s scared.” Serah sighed. “We’ll work out the leave when you get back. Just keep us informed. You can call my cell.”

I shook my head. “Why is she bleeding? Is it the baby? Did she hurt herself?” My heart raced. If Gypsy had hurt herself because she thought I didn’t want her anymore, I’d never forgive myself.

“It’s something to do with the pregnancy.” Serah squeezed my hand on my way past her. “Just make sure you’re protecting your heart, Evan. No matter what happens. Okay?”

I ignored her, charging out of the office and down the hallway. I was surprised I didn’t get another citation from an MP as I raced across the base. The commute normally took more than fifteen minutes, but I made it in less than ten, skidding to a stop in the emergency parking lot. There were no spaces, so I double parked and I didn’t even care if I got towed.

I raced into the ER and up to the nurse’s desk. I didn’t wait for her to look up at me. In my panicked state, I just blurted out, “I’m looking for Gypsy Gardener. She was brought in earlier with preterm bleeding. I’m the dad. Uh, can I see her?” I felt my voice crack as the emotion overwhelmed me. I didn’t even pay attention to the nasty looks of three people who were at the desk already whom I had nudged aside.

“Uh, sir, you’re not immediate family to Ms. Gardener, so we have to ask her permission.” The nurse had large hair that bobbed as she talked. Her nose was pointy and crooked. I wanted to tweak it and tell her to just take me back to see my woman.

“Please, you have to let me go back. This happened once before and I wasn’t here, and she lost the baby, and please, I need to be there.” I thought if this woman didn’t let me go back there, I was going to push my way through any barrier or obstacle. I might have been a jerk at times, and I definitely said things I shouldn’t have said in arguments, but given what happened before, I knew Gypsy would need me.

Another nurse walked up, file in hand. She glanced at me, then the other nurse. “Mr. Miller?” she asked, pen at the ready.

“Yeah, that’s me. I need to see my girlfriend. Please, help me.” All my hopes hung on the pen in her hand. She clicked it, then flipped through her file.

“Yes, Evan Miller to see Gypsy Gardener. Come with me, Mr. Miller. She is sedated, but she is expecting you. You can see her when she wakes up, but you can sit by her while you wait.”

I followed the slender nurse past a slew of rooms, all of them with patients in them. She took me to the farthest room on the left and pointed inside the room. “In there. I’ll come back in a bit to check on you.”

I pushed the curtain aside and was surprised to see an older woman with bushy red hair seated next to the bed reading a book. She looked up at me with sad, tired eyes and closed her book.

“Evan?”

“Yeah.” I entered, cautious. I recognized her from photos at Gypsy’s house. It was her mother. “Mrs. Gardener, I’m so sorry about this. I’m here. What can I do?” I shuffled into the room and hovered at the foot of her bed. She had been crying. I could tell by the smeared makeup and tired eyes. Both of them had.

“She’s just resting. There is nothing we can do but wait for the test results. Sit down.” She gestured to the seat next to her, and I sat, watching Gypsy mumble in her sleep. She wore a hospital gown, an IV sprouting from her arm. The monitors beeped in rhythm with her heart, and all I wanted to do was scoop her up in my arms and make all of this go away.

“What happened?” I realized I still had my hat on, so I took it off and crushed it in my hands. I had been so horrible to her. It was the stress. I just knew it. I had caused this.

“We don’t know exactly, but they have a good, strong heartbeat for the baby, and they gave her drugs to help her sleep.”

My heart relaxed a little. The baby was fine. That meant it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. “God, I’m so sorry. She has to be terrified.”

Gypsy’s mom nodded her head, staring off at her baby girl with a melancholy expression. “She is. And she’s hurt.” The woman sighed. “She told me you two argued, but she didn’t say what it was about. She was pretty torn on whether she should even call you or not. She was really hurt when you weren’t here the last time this happened. After whatever fight it was you two had, she didn’t think you’d even come.”

I felt awful for making her feel that way. I was angry. I had gone off at her without proof of anything, and this happened. What if she had lost the baby because I’d stressed her out too much? What if this was all my fault?

“You know, Evan. This bright, beautiful, strong woman lying here in this bed loves you an awful lot. You know the strength it takes to forgive someone for leaving and never saying goodbye? Add to that a miscarriage and the grieving that follows. This baby has one hell of a strong mother. I just question what sort of father he’s going to have.”

“He?” I looked at her face, and she smiled before standing.

“Wait for her to wake up. In the meantime, you need to see this.” Mrs. Gardener handed me a brown envelope, sealed. It had my name written on it. “I was supposed to take this to the base tomorrow, but this happened. So when I had them call for you, I knew I could deliver it in person.” She patted my shoulder. “Please, don’t make me regret having called you.”

She walked to the door, and I called after her, “You mean Gypsy wasn’t the one who called?”

She shook her head.

“No. She wrestled with that choice, and I made it for her when they sedated her. She needs you. Even if you’re an asshole who continuously breaks her heart, for whatever reason, it works. And she loves you. And if you break her heart again, you’re going to have more than a bad knee.” Mrs. Gardener winked at me and let herself out, and I stared at Gypsy’s handwriting on that envelope, wondering what it was.

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