I plop down next to her and return her smile. “You’ve decided that I’m so awesome, I am getting a pay raise and 52 weeks vacation?” I deadpan, earning a smack to my shoulder.
“No. Mr. Havlin has been busy. Lawyer and CPS will be here at 9 to fast track paperwork for custody and start adoption proceedings. Apparently, he has friends in high places.” She winks at me, causing me to laugh. “And he is changing Aiden’s name, though, I guess not really since the mother didn’t fill out any paperwork. Oh, and he has put several men on the approved visitation list, apparently, they are his ‘brothers’.”
“Slow your roll, Chatty Cathy. Thanks for the update, anything you need from me? Otherwise I’m going to meet up with Donna and go over the notes from last night.” I stand, pointedly ignoring her knowing stare. If I’m going to make it through my day, I need to focus on the babies and not on the sexiest man I have ever met.
“No, go on, leave an old maid to gossip on her own.” Abby shoos me away, I take a peek in Aiden’s pod and see Ephraim holding him against his bare chest, so I hightail it to my pod for the day, ignoring the protests from my ovaries and the drooling of my vag.
My God, what a chest and with a baby nestled in, safe and secure, nope. That sight should be illegal. It’s not healthy for mere mortals to witness God on Earth…I fear that image will be eternally burned into my retina’s. And how am I supposed to tend to the other little ones and aid their parents with that bare chest obscuring my vision?
Several poopy diapers, a few alarms, 5 hours, and an early period brought on by a pissed off set of ovaries, that have apparently recruited a uterus and fallopian tubes, as retaliation for ignoring the exposed pectorals of Adonai’s chosen uncle, I am sitting again at the nurse’s station trying to finish up some charting.
“Excuse me, b’shert?” Oh, damn. I know that voice and I know that word. I slowly look up from my computer screen to see Ephraim standing tall and proud, staring at me with a confident grin.
“Hello, Mr. Havlin. How is Aiden doing today?” I ask, going for casual and professional. His growing smile means I probably fell short.
“Please, call me Garrett.” I nod, trying to ignore my disappointment that he has a shirt on, though I can’t stifle my grimace at the cramp I experience. You stop that, ovaries, I’m at work!
“Are you alright, Priscilla?” He comes around the counter, kneeling in front of me as he spins my chair to face him. I just stare dumbly at him with my mouth open in shock.
“Uh. You aren’t supposed to be back here.” Smooth, Priss, real smooth. Ow! I hold my hand over my stomach as the sensation of my insides being twisted rips through me. Et tu, reproductive system?
“Sorry, you just look a little pale. Do you have a break soon? I was hoping to take you to lunch in the cafeteria. Not fancy, I know, but I don’t want to be far from Elead and I imagine you don’t get long for a break.”
“Elead?”
“Oh, yeah, that is what I have chosen to name him. El-e-ad.” He sounds it out for me, unfortunately all I can do is stare at his perfect lips. “It means ‘witness of God’.” He states proudly.
“It’s perfect.” I whisper. It’s then I realize just how close we are, the smell of spice and leather, his large rough hands moving soothingly up and down my thighs. God, I could just lay at his feet and let him pet me for hours. At that thought, I jump, sitting up straight and remembering I’m at work.
He removes his hands and I ignore the jab in my lower belly, surely another volley from the war-hungry ovaries. “So, lunch?” He cocks his head, waiting for my response, looking all sorts of adorable and dammit. I’m going to lunch with the chosen uncle.
Ephraim 4.
I feel 10 feet tall. Refreshed, despite my lack of sleep. Energized. My meeting with the club lawyer and our contact at Child Protective Services went great. Obviously, the mother needs tracked down to relinquish her rights legally, but in the meantime, a rush for temporary custody should be approved by the end of the day. I completed what I could for his social security card and birth certificate, called my insurance to add him and decided to name him Elead Joseph Havlin.
And now, I’m enjoying lunch with my b’shert. Only she seems in discomfort. Maybe nerves? Constipation? She keeps wincing and scowling at her abdomen. “Priscilla? Are you alright? Do you not like your food?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s fine.” She shakes her head, causing her blond ponytail to swish back and forth. “Are you from Pittsburgh?”
I nod, “Yes, born and raised in Squirrel Hill. How about yourself? You have an accent; I just can’t place from where.”
She laughs, transforming her whole face, exuding light. Beautiful. “Accent? I’m from Steubenville, Ohio, it’s about 40 minutes west of here. But I don’t think anyone has ever mentioned an accent.”
“You just don’t sound from Pittsburgh, I guess.” I smile. “Why leave Steubenville?”
“Well, as fascinating as small-town life is, we are so small that we don’t have an ICU for infants and children. One of my aunts had to be transported here when she went into labor early and she always spoke very highly of the nurses. Then, as the oldest of all my cousins and my siblings, I have helped with all of them and a few of them have special needs. It was just felt like a natural fit to be a nurse. To be able to provide a safe space with support and
