Then, I could feel Griffin drifting—and I wrapped my arms around his chest, covering as much of him as I could.
“You look different,” he said.
“No, I don’t,” I said.
“No,” he said. “Not so much.”
He paused, not saying anything for a minute. Neither of us saying anything.
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” Griffin said, finally.
“I’ll be here when you wake up,” I said.
Then, as he started to fall back to sleep, he moved in closer to me, just a fraction, just until I felt his hand on the small of my back, holding us there.
I lay there next to my husband, listening to him breathe, as if my life depended on it. And, in the ways it mattered most, it did.
37
I felt someone shake me awake a few hours later—was it a few hours later? I had no clue. All I knew was that Jesse was before me again, two enormous cups of coffee in his hands. My eyes went to the clock, which read 5:08. But was it A.M. or P.M.? I had no idea, the dark hospital room casinolike, only low light coming in through the closed shades.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I have to show you something,” Jesse said.
I blinked hard, still trying to acclimate, still trying to believe this was where I was, Griffin breathing softly and soundly—thankfully—beside me, beneath me.
I shook my head, adamant. “No,” I said. “I told him I’d be here when he wakes up again.”
“He’s already woken up again,” Jesse whispered. “You’re way behind the times.”
“I am?” I blinked a few more times. “Is it morning or night?” I asked.
Jesse reached out his hand for me to take. “Come and see,” he said.
It was night. And ten minutes later, we were pulling out of the hospital parking lot and driving out into it, down Route 9 in Jesse’s beat-up car, coffees in hand, the Avett Brothers singing to us from the radio.
I turned toward him, watching him tap on the steering wheel, to the music’s slow beat.
“So,” I said. “No chance you’re going to tell me where we’re headed?”
Jesse shrugged. “What, you new here or something?”
I shook my head, smiling. “I guess not,” I said.
Then I turned back to face the road, and whatever was in front of us.
“You must have been surprised to see Cheryl in the waiting room earlier?” he said.
“I’m trying not to be surprised by anything these days,” I said.
“Too risky?” he said.
“Exactly.” Then, biting on my coffee cup’s lid, I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. “You feel like talking about it?” I asked.
“What’s there to say, really?” Jesse shrugged. “We’re having two more.”
“Babies? ”