“I’m safe. Olivia and the baby are safe, and Carter is safe. We’re all safe.”
Everyone other than Randall Duncan. Randall’s got a broken nose. His mouth is busted up pretty good too.
The other two got off easy, deciding they’d rather not be on the receiving end of Carter’s fist after they saw the damage he was doing to Randall. They scrambled away but didn’t get far.
Randall blew a 0.23 BAC, nearly triple the legal limit. I’ve been sitting here for the last hour, thinking about what might have happened if he’d gotten behind that wheel, whose life might have been lost.
My mom kisses my forehead. “I’m going to find the vending machine.”
“Okay.” I pick at the needle in the back of my hand where my IV is attached. “This thing is itchy as fuck. Can I take it out?”
“Jennifer Beckett, don’t touch it. Wait for the nurse to come back. You passed out, for heaven’s sake.”
“I had a panic attack.” I roll my eyes to make it sound like anything other than the big deal it was while I try to forget that, in that moment, all I could think about was a drunk driver taking the life of another person I love. “I’m gonna go see Olivia.”
Mom pushes me right back down to the bed when I stand. “You’ll wait here until I get back.”
I’m back on my feet when the door shuts behind her. My IV pole and I head out the door.
I find Olivia’s room in thirty seconds; I can hear Carter arguing with the staff.
“Oh, she can’t eat this. We’ll see the premium food menu, please.”
“Uh, we only have the one menu, Mr. Beckett.”
I watch from the doorway as Carter holds up a triangle of grilled cheese between his thumb and forefinger, keeping it at a distance like a disease might jump out.
“This is way too soggy. What kind of cheese is this? Ollie likes her grilled cheese on pumpernickel rye with aged smoked gouda, bonus points if you add bacon.”
“Right, well, we don’t, uh…” The poor woman scratches at her throat, face red. “We don’t have smoked gouda.”
Carter sighs, tossing the sandwich back to the tray. “Okay.”
Olivia smiles up at the woman. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” Her gaze finds mine in the doorway when the woman leaves. “Jennie! How are you feeling?”
Carter leaps out of his seat and flies across the room, guiding me across it by my elbow at the pace of a literal snail. “Easy,” he murmurs.
“Carter.” I shake off his grip, but if I’m being honest, it feels nice to be on the receiving end of his attention, even if it’s selfish of me. Olivia and the baby are more important, and they’re his life. They need him right now, not me. “I can walk all on my own.”
“‘I can walk all on my own,’” he mimics, leading me to his chair. His large hands swallow my entire head as he yanks me into him, plopping a kiss to my hair. When he sits on the other side of Olivia’s bed, I notice his swollen, cracked knuckles, an angry shade of red. “Don’t know how I got saddled with two snarky brunettes.”
The chances that he’s about to be saddled with a third in a few weeks are ridiculously high, but he looks incredibly strung out right now. I won’t push him.
Olivia reaches for my hand, and I scoot closer, snuggling into her.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair before I pull away.
“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”
“You were scared and sick and you needed me and I—”
“Absolutely not. None of this is your fault.” She whips around, pointing a finger at Carter. “And it’s not yours, either, so don’t even think about going down that road again.”
Carter’s chin hits his fist as he frowns and mouths, Meow.
“So what’s going on?” I lay my hand on her belly, giving it a little rub.
“The baby’s fine. We saw him or her wiggling around on the ultrasound machine, and—” She holds up a hand, silencing Carter when he opens his mouth. “That was a goddamn arm, Carter, don’t make me tell you again.” His face falls, and I swallow my snicker. “Heart rate was good. Everything looks good.”
“And what about you? How’s Mama feeling?”
“I’m good,” she replies, but her words are soft, careful. “The whole thing was just scary.”
“The doctor said she’s under too much stress,” Carter grumbles. “Probably the kids at school, and then this…”
Yes, probably the kids at school…
“I’ve developed gestational hypertension, where your blood pressure is elevated,” Olivia clarifies. “It’s okay, but we’ll need to do some monitoring. It can lead to more serious things, like preeclampsia.”
I’ve never seen Carter look more scared than he does right now as he brings his wife’s hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, his other hand moving slowly over her belly.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he promises. “Baths and foot rubs and every meal delivered right to you, and I’ll carry you down the stairs and—”
“And I don’t think I’ll be allowed to do anything for myself until this baby decides to exit.”
I laugh quietly. “I’ll help with whatever you need.”
Olivia’s smile is grateful. “Thanks, Jennie.”
“I was trying to figure out if there was a way to keep this from Garrett,” Carter starts, “but I’m pretty sure Cara already opened her big mouth.”
I frown. “Why would you want to keep this from him?”
“Because I know how he is. He won’t say anything, but he’ll get this idea in his head that, once upon a time, it could’ve been his dad’s fuckup. He’ll wonder if it reminds us of Dad, and then he’ll talk himself into believing that he means less to us because he loves someone that took advantage of the same thing that killed our dad, that put us all in danger today.”
“Garrett has a big heart,” Olivia says softly, gaze flitting my way. “I’m not surprised he takes on the guilt of others. But we’ll make sure he knows how important he is to us.”
I don’t want him to second-guess, the way he did when his dad nearly relapsed. I don’t want him to carry around the weight of someone else’s decisions. I want to show him how loved he is, not only by me but by everyone.
“I better get back to my room before Mom returns from finding the vending machine. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” I stand, and Carter loops his arm through mine, leading me into the hallway.
“How are you? You’re good, right? You’re okay?” His vibrant green eyes bounce between mine, the concern heavy and dark, like it’s the only thing he’s capable of feeling right now.
So how do I tell him the answer is no? That even though I’m physically fine, I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, ready to plummet? That in the moment when he collided with those three drunk men, when they fell to the ground together, when Olivia screamed and it felt like my lungs were being crushed, I genuinely thought he was going to die?
I get it; it’s extreme. But that’s the way life works after you’ve lost someone to a tragedy. No matter how good things are going, you’re constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something horrific and life altering to happen, to have your happiness snatched from your hands no matter how tightly you cling to it.
But Carter doesn’t have time to worry about me. I can’t put this on him.
So I plaster on a smile and promise, “I feel fine, Carter.”
He visibly deflates before pulling me into one of his suffocating holds.
We both tense when we hear Olivia’s weak voice call his name, followed by the sound of retching. He kisses my temple and disappears, and I tuck myself back into my room.
“Where were you? I was worried sick.”