Page 54 of Say We've Found Forever
“Not gonna happen. Not a fucking chance,” he barks, more than a little aggressively. Dumping out a plethora of books onto the coffee table. “We got Grey’s Anatomy, Field Medic’s Guide, What To Expect, and about a dozen other things in here. Your Momma’s gonna be fine. Your sister is, too. That’s all there is to it.”
His tone is far too firm for Emma to appreciate it as reassurance. He starts pacing the room, talking out loud, more to himself than to them.
“We’ve got some time left to get through these. Need the ultrasound machine. Find a hospital for supplies. Best case scenario, you have this baby the old-fashioned way, and it all goes fine, but we need to be prepared for everything. Make sure we know what to do if something goes wrong. Make damn sure we know how to keep her quiet when she’s here.”
Keep her quiet so she doesn’t scream and get them all killed is what he’s saying.
“Any ideas on that last part?” she says.
“Not yet. But we’ll figure something out. What happened back there is never, ever happening with us. Never.”
His words are still sharp and angry, though she can tell it’s not at them. They’ve been hit with an image of what their future could look like if they’re unlucky enough to be wandering the street with a crying baby, and that’s knocked them all for a loop.
Addison and Emma cope by going quiet, but Wyatt’s default reaction is agitation. That has to run its course. She’s only grateful that it can without worrying that it might redirect their way.
When a particularly hard cramp hits her like a tidal wave, she winces. Emma gives her the most panicked look as if the worst is about to happen right this second.
In the wake of tragedy, the baby she’s carrying tumbles and turns, begging for attention.
“It’s okay,” she forces a smile. “It’s normal. I felt the same while I carried you.”
Emma nods, pressing her hand to Addison’s flat belly, searching for flutters or kicks that aren’t there.
Wyatt’s pacing has stalled. He watches them tentatively, nervous when he shouldn’t be. She knows he’s curious about this baby. He asked her more than once if she’s doing somersaults yet.
She shakes her head. “Not yet. Still too early for acrobatics.”
Emma’s hand drops away, and she aims for the cat again, scooping it up to sit on her lap near the window, the two of them searching through the curtains as if danger might break through the treeline at any moment.
Addison takes up one end of the sofa with a hard exhale, the weight of the last few hours lying heavy on her heart now that they have a moment to breathe. Slowly, and with a resigned hitch in his movements, Wyatt joins her an arm’s length apart.
In the silence of the room, she desperately wants to be closer to him. Her desire for a connection to drown out the horrific mental images she can’t seem to shake burns strongly enough that she nearly scoots over in search of contact, though she somehow curbs that action at the last second.
It’s only then, while she’s struggling with her own self-restraint to avoid seeking comfort, that he reaches a hand out between them, palm up, waiting in limbo for her to take it.
She glances at his face, finding his stare fixed on the wall ahead. Maybe he fears she’ll see how affected he’s been the moment their eyes lock.
With a tilt of her head, her hand slips into his, slow and gentle, her fingers curling around his palm while his thumb brushes the smallest wave along her skin.
“We’ll be alright. I promise,” he tells her, confident despite the circumstances.
Promises are dangerous, but that coveted two-letter word,we, allows her to believe him.
Chapter 12
They’ve spent more time fixing up the dairy farm than they have back at the house, and Wyatt’s glad for it.
Wouldn’t say it’s part of a plan to sway them into staying here, but he hopes they might fall in love with the place. It’s larger than where they’re at now, with more land to farm and more animals to tend. They could easily bring their current herd of goats down the road and…no, he’s getting ahead of himself. Making plans as if this situation is permanent, and it’s not.
He hasn’t slept well in days. Fucked up nightmares keep him awake. Gwen screaming for her life up in the frozen tundra of Alaska, something he never actually heard but can imagine well enough to manifest while unconscious, or Addison dying after having that baby.
Their encounter with Jeff put a lot into perspective. It made it crystal clear that he needs to stop thinking about how much he wants to leave this place in search of some mythical safe zone and focus on what’s important. They’ve made plans to get the ultrasound machine next week, and he’s spent every free moment with his nose in those books. It still doesn’t feel like enough. They should be seeking out a community with a doctor, but that could be asking for more trouble.
He can’t let what happened to Jeff and his baby happen to Addison.
Her own anxiety seems to have eased once they started spending more time on this new farm. She looks as happy as Emma when they load up every morning to come here and work on crossing projects off the list.
Today, though, her eagerness to get rid of him is suspicious.
