It's Complicated (17 page)

Josie glared back. “You take that back,” she whispered.

Biting her lips to keep from giggling, Laura shook her head.

“Then I curse you with twins next time you’re pregnant,” Josie growled as menacingly as a girly whispervoice could manage.

“Oh, you bitch,” Laura whispered back. She didn’t argue, though, at the idea that she’d be pregnant again. Her mock outrage turned to amusement.

If Josie were Laura right now, with a baby sucking the life force out of her, drinking her milk, and with a cold pack attached to her pubes, she’d be threatening homicide on anyone who suggested that she might have another one. Maybe Laura was just high on painkillers. That had to be it; it was the only way to explain why she would ever want to go through this obscenely barbaric experience again.

What had he just done, and when could they do it again?
The taste of her was still in his mouth, her juices still on his hips and thighs, the feel of her pushing against him still in his flesh, and her name still echoing among the leftover groans trapped in his throat. He helped lead her back to the sidewalk and up from the little alcove, marveling that they’d just used to have wild, hot, nearly public sex.

And she liked it!

Women never indulged in this—ever—with him. Once, in college, he and a short-term girlfriend had been so drunk after a football game that they’d had a quickie under the bleachers, ten thousand stomping and roaring fans above them. The complete abandon and the risk of getting caught made the act incredibly explosive for him and setting every sense ablaze, pushing his climax harder than it had ever been before, making him come and come, draining him dry and leaving him with a memory that got him through years of masturbation sessions.

This? What he and Josie had just done without effort, without talking, without worry or fear or hesitation?

A thousand fucking times better.

How had the perfect woman, sexually aware and aggressive enough for him, willing to have outdoor sex and with a brain that intrigued, have been so close yet so far away for half a year?

Holy shit.

His brain was wired as they walked into Laura’s room. Alex could tell that Laura was exhausted; he shifted into OB mode, his brain a bit relieved to focus on something less overwhelming. The full rush of hormones, and pushing, and breastfeeding, and the recomposition of atoms and molecules inside her to make room for motherhood, was etched into her face. It was in the way her hands moved, how she cradled the baby’s neck, the subtle shift of her hip as she adjusted to having the baby’s weight outside her body now. Every new mother went through some degree of it, the biological reality of birth setting in.

Like Laura, some mothers were determined to have a low-intervention birth. Some mothers chose to use technology and modern medicine as much as possible to blunt the stark, animal nature of birth. Others had no choice but to use Pitocin to bring a baby forth with a flagging heart rate—and then there were those for whom a crash C-section was a thankful act of God. Most fell somewhere in the middle. A calm, steady doctor willing to use his brain, not just policy or statistics, to make rapid-fire decisions could mean the difference between one extreme and the other. As a resident, Alex had been proud of managing to take a laboring mom, who was failing to progress but didn’t want a C-section, through a birth far better than the one she’d have experienced in another doctor’s hands.

All these mothers were, at some point in their recovery, in the same exact place that Laura was right now. Alex wondered how the two fathers would make the similar adjustment. It was different, he knew that. No nine and a half months of hormones coursing through their veins, only bystanders to the violence of birth. Still, men had to go through a change as well, beyond being protective of the new life that they had helped to create. He thought he could tell which fathers were going to be good pretty quickly, even though he’d been without a father for most of his life. His grandfather had filled in, and was a fabulous father figure, but that’s all he had been…a figure. The empty part of him that wished he had a dad made his stomach tighten as Dylan and Mike came in on cue, looking like they’d be among the good ones.

Josie had taken the baby—with confidence, this time—to burp her when she pulled away from her mother’s breast. Mike and Dylan both grinned expectantly at the baby, but kept a respectful distance from Josie, who now cradled Jillian in her arms, swinging her gently, keeping the baby content.

“Josie’s not fainting this time,” Dylan stage whispered.

“Where’s my sushi?” Laura barked. “You can talk about anything you want, but not until I’ve had my sushi.”

Mike handed her two containers of California roll. “Sushi.” He sniffed. “That’s not sushi.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s California roll. Sashimi…now
that’s
sushi.”,” Dylan said.

“Actually,” Mike interjected, “neither is.”

It sounded like an old argument, and presumably it was.

“I can finally eat sashimi again, can’t I?” Laura answered, just remembering. “Hmmmm…” She bit her lower lip and stared with great longing at Mike’s raw salmon.

“You wanna trade?” he offered, reluctantly.

She gave him a closed-mouth smile. “No, go ahead, it’s fine, but next time, get me some.”

The three parents dug into their meal with gusto.

Josie seemed to have forgotten that anyone else was in the room, so intent was she on studying and absorbing the baby’s features. She was a natural. Alex found his mind wandering to a future, and caught a glimpse of the woman he could love holding their child. He’d always thought of it…fatherhood…one day, but now he had a face to attach to the imagined reality.

“You want one?” Dylan asked.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Alex looked up to find Dylan holding out a tray of California roll. “Oh, oh…no. No. Thanks. I’m…I’m good.” As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.

Dylan cocked his head and said, “Hey man, we’ve got plenty.”

“You’re hungry?” Josie said, snapping out of her own little world. “You want to get dinner?”

I want to get that tick check you promised
, he thought. “Dinner would be great, but first, give me a chance to hold her.”

“Oh, come on, I just got her,” Josie protested.

“And you’ll get to hold her…for”—he paused and looked around the room—“forever. Or at least until she she’s too wiggly and won’t let anyone hold her anymore. Then you’ll get to play with her—running around the playground, or digging for worms, or doing whatever it is that kids do when they reach the point where they don’t want to be held. This is my shot, though. Let me have a turn?”

“I’m twenty-nine and I’d like to still be held,” Laura piped up.

“Ooooooooh,” said Mike, coming over and giving her a big hug. Dylan piled on, too, keeping his hands extended out so that his fish-covered fingers didn’t touch her.

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, but tears filled her eyes. “I wish my mom could be here,” she said quietly. She swallowed hard, and the tears spilled over, running down her bright red cheeks.

“Your mom would have loved her,” Josie said, handing the baby off to Alex, and then walking over to the bed to touch Laura’s leg in assurance.

Alex hadn’t meant to hit so many nerves, but apparently he’d said the wrong thing. “So, I think we should be going.” The soft heft of the baby wrapped in the flannel blanket made a part of him go soft and paternal, time slowing down as he acknowledged the wonder of this little girl’s new life. She smelled like freshness and perfection, and as he traced her cheek with one finger he found the sweetness almost too much. Almost. If he let himself, he could sit down with new babies and rock them to sleep all day. Sadly, that wasn’t his job.

Besides, he had some unfinished business with Josie.“Let's give the Daddies a turn with their daughter,” Alex said, guessing correctly that refocusing would help Laura pull herself together.

Plus, he wanted to get Josie out of here. To do what, he wasn’t sure. He’d love to do more of what they had just done down by the river, but he thought he should hold off. Having this start out so hot, so fast, risked burning it out just as quickly.

His concern was that Josie would mistake his desire for her as only sexual. But he’d meant what he’d said to her that first moment in the on call room, as they had furiously undressed—this really wasn’t just about sex. She was giving him hints that she felt that, too. Everything from guessing he drank macchiatos, and real ones, no less, to telling him more about herself, letting down that sarcastic, jaunty way that she shielded herself from the world. It was a message. For her this wasn’t all about the sex. Clearly she had no problem with the sex part, but there was more to it. He hoped this was the beginning of something far greater than anything he’d ever had with a woman. Making love to her again so soon, as much as he wanted to, might set the wrong tone.

As he watched her chat with Laura, and lean in for a hug, then a kiss on the cheek, he saw a warmth to her that she only showed to people she was close to. Even Dylan got a hug from her, and that surprised him. It pleased him, too. When she stood on extreme tiptoes to give Giant Mike an embrace as well, he smiled involuntarily.

“Hold on,” Mike said, peering at the top of her head. Fishing in her hair, Mike untangled a leaf and held it up to look.

“You’re sprouting these days?” the man asked her, and Alex suppressed a laugh.

“No comment,” she said, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Alex?”

“I defer to Josie.”

“Just repeat that phrase a thousand times for the rest of your life and you’ll do fine with her,” Dylan added.

Josie laughed and moved toward the doorway; Alex took her cue, handing the baby off to Laura. He reached over and rubbed Jillian’s soft little head, and then looked Laura in the eyes. “Congratulations, again. You did it.”

She smiled and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “Thank you. I did, didn’t I? My midwife called me a birth warrior.”

He did a slow inhale and smiled, his cheeks hurting from so much grinning. “I think that’s pretty apt.”

“Thank
you
,” she said.

“For what?”

Laura’s eyes darted over to Josie, who was speaking animatedly with Dylan about knocking it off with his giraffe.

“Oh,” Alex said. He looked away, a bit flustered. “
That
.”

“Yeah”—Laura pointed her finger covertly at Josie—“
that
. Take care of
that
,” she said, winking.

He nodded and turned away, not sure what to say. As he walked to the doorway, Josie reached out, tentatively, for his hand. The public gesture, two feet away from Dylan, made him swell with hope. It made other things swell as well, and now that tight feeling plagued him. Already? Yes, he was ready again, already, and as they walked out the door and said their final goodbyes, he wondered what would happen next in the elevator.

Chapter Seven

Josie pressed the elevator button and reached back for Alex’s hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that blonde nurse again, who was glaring daggers at both of them. “What’s up with that woman?” Josie asked.

He froze and looked out of the corner of his eye, not moving his face.

Now Josie wondered what was up with
him
, because that was just not a typical Alex move.
How would you know a typical Alex move, Josie?
she thought. It wasn’t as if she knew enough about him to be able to make a judgment call like that. And yet, in the day or so that she had known him, she felt she knew him well enough to begin to make some general assumptions.

“That is Lisa,” he said, a tone of regret and resignation coming out in a raspy voice, a hushed attempt at privacy. “I’ll tell you more in the elevator.”

The blonde woman charted furiously, her hand jerking across the page, as her eyes flitted between Josie and Alex and whatever medical document she was working on. A red flush crept over the pale skin on her neck, and into her jawline and cheeks.

A creepy feeling spread through Josie’s gut. Whatever this was about, it didn’t feel good. She didn’t like holding Alex’s hand and not feeling good. It was so contradictory that it triggered a sense of panic in her. Not a full-blown panic attack, more a sense that she was nearing a precipice, and might have to struggle not to fall. Whatever that woman meant in Alex’s life, it didn’t seem like it was something she should pry into. Yet the laser-like stare that was focused on Josie felt like it might cleanly cauterize the back of her head.

She decided to just head this one off right here. “Do I know you?” she asked in an even tone, turning to face her. The blonde ignored her and flipped the chart closed with a flick of the wrist, storming off.

A huge sigh of relief escaped from Alex, his chest lowering and his hand loosening around hers. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. No sexy ride right now; whatever that woman represented, it wasn’t good juju.

As they stepped aboard and Alex pressed the lobby button, Josie said, “Okay. Spill.”