“Whoa, Gage. First, glad to know that key I gave you in case of emergencies is useful.”
“Yeah, well, if you had thought to send your best friend a text, I wouldn’t have had to try to hunt you down to try to get my wife off my case. She’s been freaking the fuck out ever since you ran out at the timeout, because she didn’t know what the hell happened.”
“Remember when I told you about me being a teenage father?”
“Yeah, and you gave her up for adoption. What about her?”
“Her adoptive parents were killed in a car crash.”
“And your daughter?”
“She has a broken wrist, but other than that, she’s good.”
“Wow, so why were you contacted?”
“She has no other family at all, so I’m going to get her back.”
“You mean—”
“I mean, I have a daughter, and she is coming home with me to live, permanently.”
“Whoa.” Gage let out a deep breath. “Whoa.”
“Anything else you have to say besides whoa?”
“Not sure there is anything else except congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Just wait until LeeAnn finds out.”
“Gage, tell her not to tell anyone else just yet. I trust you two and would never ask you to keep something from your wife, but no one else, okay?”
“You got it. We’re here if you need us.”
I disconnected just as I was pulling up to the valet. He took my keys, and I pocketed the ticket as I made my way up to my room.
Only, once I got there, I was too restless to relax. I paced the room, sat, watched some television, and sat again. Finally glancing at the nightstand clock, I saw it was just after twelve, it was the time when Vivian and I normally spoke. I couldn’t believe it had only been a day, one single fucking day. Biting the bullet, I snagged my phone and dialed.
“Oh my god, Aaron, are you okay?”
“Hi, Little One, yes, I’m fine.”
“What happened?” The sound of Vivian’s voice was so soothing to my tangled up brain.
“There was an emergency, and I had to come up to Indiana. I’m sorry for abandoning you after I asked to take you home.”
“Oh stop, that’s no biggie, it’s you I’m worried about. Is everything okay?”
“It will be now that I have it under control.”
“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a great listener.”
“When I get back home, I’ll tell you all about it; it’s too big to talk about over the phone.”
“Okay. When do you think you’ll be back?”
“Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“Just call me if you need anything.” Vivian was always so kind. I had no clue what to do. Ireland needed me and was probably going to need my full attention for some time while she acclimated. Would a woman fit into the mix, especially a skittish one who already had her own baggage? I hadn’t realized it until a sharp pain penetrated my scalp and then pulling my fingers from my head, I saw a clump of hair. Great, I was pulling at my hair. I was sure Sigmund Freud had some psychological diagnosis for this—something like, pulling hair is the stage right before patient enters catatonia.
Saturday morning I woke, somewhat refreshed, and was headed up to the hospital. I swung through the Donut Bank, got some things I thought Ireland might like, and grabbed a few crullers for me. I was standing at the nurses’ station, trying to ignore the women at eight fifty-five—five minutes before official start of visitation time—and they weren’t letting me go a second earlier. When the recorded voice came across the overhead intercom, welcoming people to Deaconess hospital, I marched forward and into Ireland’s room.
“You’re back.” Ireland appeared more relieved than shocked.
“Yep, I’m back. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.” I glanced over at her breakfast tray. “Not hungry?”
“That’s crap.”
“Crap? Are you allowed to say crap?” I asked and instantly realized my mistake as Ireland’s face changed. “Hey, I brought donuts.” I held up the bag.
“What kind? Did you get any Tiger Tails?”
I handed her the bag, knowing full well there were two in there, thank god, and waited for the bag to come back so I could grab my donuts.
“So, you might get out of here today?”
She nodded, as if she had already known that. “Where will I go?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m hoping it’s with me. I hired an attorney who is trying to get a judge to sign papers that will let me take you out of the hospital.”
“What if he won’t let you? Where will I go?”
“To some friends of Miss Karen’s but just for a night or two.”
Tears welled in Ireland’s eyes. “But I don’t want to go to their house, I don’t know them.”
“It will only be for a day or two.” I wanted to promise her it would only be for that long, but fear stopped me. No matter how much I wanted to, I knew better than to make a promise I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep.
“Would I have my own bedroom?”
“Probably not, but it will be safe.”
“I’m not going. I want to go home to my house on Koring Road.”
“I’m trying, Ireland, I can’t promise.”
“Then get out. Get out. I don’t want to see you. Out. Out.” A nurse came running in to see what all the shouting was about.
“Ireland, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” She moved me out of the way.
“I want to be left alone.” She folded her arms across her chest and let out a long huff.
“Maybe it would be best if you came back later,” the nurse whispered to me.
I conceded, but not before locking eyes with my daughter. I wanted her to feel the love I had for her, had always had for her.
Leaving the room, I ran smack dab into Karen.
“Hey, got a second?” Karen asked.
“Yeah, but we should probably go to the conference room.”
“Is Ireland all right?”
“I don’t know. She told me to leave.”
“She doesn’t mean it; she’s going through a myriad of emotions
