The Promise
Page 90

There was another hesitation, this one weighty, before he whispered, “My Frankie.”
“I don’t have time for you to be sweet right now, Ben. I only have time for you to tell me you’re coming down as soon as humanly possible.”
There was a smile in his voice when he said, “I’m comin’ down as soon as humanly possible.”
“Awesome,” I whispered as the doors opened.
“Be safe with you and those girls,” he ordered.
“I will.”
“Okay. Love you, baby.”
I stopped dead on my mad dash to my Z.
“’Bye,” he finished.
“Uh…’bye, Benny.”
He disconnected.
I stood there, frozen.
Love you, baby.
Oh my God.
Love you, baby.
Oh my God!
Ben told me he’d never loved a woman.
And now he’d just told me he loved me.
What I did next, I didn’t care that security probably saw me doing it on the monitors and would rightly think I was crazy.
Cal and Vi were having their baby.
And Benny Bianchi loved me.
I did a war whoop and a big feet-thrown-back cheerleader jump. In pumps. Holding my phone, my computer bag, my purse slung over my shoulder. Just like a woman in a commercial who successfully got through her stressful day as an executive and did it without getting underarm stains.
Fortunately, I landed firm on my feet.
Then I ran right to my Z.
* * * * *
I was sitting in the maternity waiting room of Hendricks Regional Health.
Next to me sat Kate, who was wired and fidgety.
Across from me sat a man who’d introduced himself as Pete Riley, Vi’s father. He’d arrived not very long ago from Chicago.
Standing and swaying a sleeping baby named Jack in her arms was Keira.
The baby belonged to two other people who were there. Kate introduced them as “Colt and Feb,” and I knew them because Vi talked about them as her neighbors, though I hadn’t met them (until then).
I also knew them, because a while ago, they were all over the news when a serial killer had gone on a killing spree in Feb’s name. Obviously, she did not want this or the attention it garnered after he’d killed a slew of people and committed suicide by cop. But still, shit happened in life and you got on with it.
In Feb’s case, she got on with it by finally marrying her hot guy and high school sweetheart, namely Colt, and giving him a baby.
There was also another woman there. Her name was Cheryl. She had a lot of blonde hair, showed a lot of skin, what skin she didn’t show she still hinted at since everything she was wearing was skintight, and she had a lot of attitude. I liked her immediately and wished there would be a time when I could introduce her to Nat (if I ever started speaking to her again) so she’d be inspiration to be what you were, not give a damn, but not be a skank doing it.
She had her son with her, Ethan, who had long since fallen asleep in a chair, his weight slanted sideways and resting on Colt, who had his arm around the kid.
Colt and Feb had brought an enormous bucket of KFC. Cheryl had brought “everything they had left” from Mimi’s, a kickass coffee shop on Main Street in Brownsburg that I’d discovered a couple of weeks before. This meant a plethora of cookies and brownies.
Thus, the snack stash Kate and Keira brought was unnecessary.
Calls had been made and a number of people would eventually descend. Before I got a chance, Keira had called Vinnie and Theresa. They’d also (weirdly, to my way of thinking) called Vi’s dead first husband’s parents, who, apparently, were tight with the new family, including Cal. Not to mention they’d called their grandfather, who wasted no time getting there, and a variety of other people, as evidenced by Colt, Feb, Jack, Cheryl, and Ethan being there.
So all was in order.
Except no word from delivery.
We did get an update, procured for us by Colt, who was a cop, since he arrived when we’d been there over an hour and hadn’t had one. He’d flashed his badge and we’d found out that Vi’s water had broken in Cal’s truck and things went fast. Fast, as in, upon arrival, she was nearly fully dilated. A hint that things would continue to go very swiftly.
But that was hours ago.
“Is this okay?” Kate asked quietly from beside me, and I saw Keira’s head whip around when Kate asked the question.
I reached out and took her hand. “Yes, honey.”
“It seems to be taking a long time,” she noted, her voice uncertain and shaky.
“That happens,” I told her.
“On TV, people can visit a woman in labor for, like…ages before she goes into delivery,” she informed me.
This was true and it happened not on TV as well.
I didn’t tell Kate that.
I said, “Like all babies are different, all births are different. Sometimes it takes time in delivery.”
“I don’t like it,” she whispered, and I squeezed her hand.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I told her, my eyes on Keira and suddenly, Feb moved, getting up quickly and going directly to Keira.
My head turned the other way when I felt movement there, and I knew why Feb went to claim her boy.
Cal, in scrubs, was coming our way.
He looked haggard and my heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t even get to a full stop before he announced in a gruff voice, “Vi’s good. Angie’s good. Everybody healthy.”
Kate shot out of her seat and, almost simultaneously with Keira, did their best to take Cal off his feet when they hit him full on. They did their best, but Cal was a big, powerful guy. He rocked but stood strong.
It was then I received one of those unexpected but precious gifts life could send your way, that being watching Cal wrap both girls in his long, strapping arms, drop his dark head, and kiss the hair on both of theirs, murmuring, “It took Angie a while to wanna join us, but now it’s all good, babies.”
I heard Kate’s choked sob, but Keira just burrowed closer into Cal.
I stood with everyone else and we approached—but didn’t get close, giving them their moment—stopping and huddling.
“You wanna see your mom and sister?” Cal asked the girls, his focus totally on them. No one else was in the universe (except, of course, Vi and his new daughter).
“Yeah,” Keira said unsteadily.
“Absolutely,” Kate said croakily.
Finally, his eyes came to the gathered crowd and he murmured, “Be back.”
He shifted the girls, turned them, and moved them in the direction from where he’d come.