Texas Girl Grit Page 25

“The baby?”

  Liam paused, clutching Masen even closer if it was possible.

  “They are still working on him. Not quite three pounds. He’s battling. They have him on a vent,” he finished, his voice breaking.

  “Oh, Liam,” I whispered, reaching to palm his cheek. He leaned his head into my touch, closing his eyes as if it were the last time he would feel it. My eyes filled with tears.

  “He’s a Covington, so he’s a fighter,” he assured me, his eyes now open and studying me.

  I nodded and reached to take Masen from him. “You shouldn’t be lifting this soon after a gunshot wound,” I admonished him.

  “Probably not. Better come home and make sure I follow orders,” he whispered, close to my ear as we walked together down the hallway.

  “Liam,” I started to halt him. My defenses were nonexistent.

  “Sorry. I have to try, Baby,” he replied with a smirk.

  And slick Liam was back. It was a hint of the playboy he’d been when we met, and never stopped being, apparently, if the video could be believed.

  I tried to steel myself against any further conversation with him. As we rounded the corner to the waiting room, we found Ellen and Allie sitting in the waiting room.

  “Any news?” Liam asked his mother immediately, dropping the diaper bag on the floor beside his sister.

  “Not about the baby, not since you left. But we’ve been updated about Chelsea. Your dad and Ethan are with her now. The doctors are allowing us in to see her, two at a time. Her blood pressure is finally beginning to come down.” She turned to me then, adding, “She suffered a stroke. It was bad…that’s why they had to take the baby.”

  I sank down beside her on the couch as she pulled Masen into her arms.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, touching her arm. “But she’ll be okay, now, right?” I asked her.

  “Time will tell. Her left side seems to be affected, mostly. But the last time Ethan came out, he said she’s beginning to move that side a bit, so now they are thinking maybe the stroke was mild.” Then she turned her attention to Masen, who was yanking and drooling on her pearls. “I’ve missed him,” she said, her voice breaking as she kissed him on top of his head.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I started, my own voice breaking a bit. “It’s not my intention to keep him away.”

  She brightened through her tears. “Of course not, dear. I never for a minute thought you would. I’m…I’m glad you came,” she added, leaning over to kiss my cheek. I leaned into her, taking in the beautiful scent of roses from her signature perfume. I missed the scent. I’d come to associate it with home and motherhood.

  Allison sat silently watching us. I couldn’t tell if she was upset with me, or just closing herself off from the drama. She didn’t need any more in her life. I’d talked to Dr. Hallie’s office and I knew Allie was keeping her appointments. I gave her a weak smile, and she returned it immediately. Liam sat down on the arm of the sofa beside me and placed his arm around my shoulder.

  “Does this mean you’re coming back home?” Allie asked, taking Liam’s embrace for granted.

  I shook my head hesitantly as Liam cleared his throat. “Let’s take all of this a step at a time and not push things,” Liam said softly. Allie nodded.

  “Hey,” Ethan called from the doorway. Liam rose, his hand on my shoulder. “I got to see him for a moment. They said a couple of you can go back to NICU to see him. You’ll have to gown up, but they have those glove things in his bassinette you can put your hands in to touch him.”

  Liam’s mother was already rising, handing Masen back to me. “Have you named him yet?”

  Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. “Yeah, Mom. We named him Buckley Davis Covington. We’ll call him Buck.”

  “After your father,” I whispered, glancing up at Liam. “That’s great, Ethan.”

  He nodded, taking his mother in his arms for a hug. “Yeah, and Buckley was Chelsea’s maiden name,” he added over her shoulder.

  “That’s cool,” Allie said, rising to go with them.

  Masen began to fuss. As we watched the three of them walking down the hallway, Liam turned to me. “Why don’t we walk down to the cafeteria and get him something to eat.”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  I carried our son, but the entire way to the cafeteria, Liam’s hand stayed at the small of my back, his other arm full of diaper bag and my purse. This felt natural and normal. I missed it.

  We sat and visited while we ate, feeding Masen mashed-up peas, carrots, and mashed potatoes. I’d been working with him to try to get him to use a spoon, and with the awful mess he was making on the highchair table, I still managed to get most of it in his mouth. On his third try at spooning some mashed potatoes, he made it to his mouth with the spoon.

  “Score!” Liam shouted, holding his hands up in the air like a referee in the end-zone. “I can’t believe he did that. When did he start?” he said, incredulous.

  “Just now. I’ve been teaching him to hold the spoon, but this is the first time he’s had food that stayed on the spoon all the way in,” I said, laughing.

  Liam’s face fell. “I’m missing it. I’m missing all his firsts,” he said, his eyes fierce.

  “Please, don’t,” I choked back.

  “No, you’re gonna hear me out. This thing has gone far enough. Come home, Baby. Come home where you both belong. It’s Christmas Eve, for Christ’s sake. I said I’d never let your insecurities drive us apart again. I meant that. This crap about Texanne is bullshit and you know it. She is just another excuse for you to run. Things get hot politically and you run.”

  And finally, I remembered where the anger came from. Enough anger to help me make the decision to leave him. I was doing this for him, to save his career. And HE was the one who had cheated and played around with his campaign worker, not me.

  This was the Liam I was ready to confront.

  “Bullshit? I have it on tape, Liam. You’re convincing when I talk to you…but then I check my phone and there it is. How dare you try to make this out to be about MY INSECURITIES and not your cheating!”

  I was standing now, out of breath, pulling the baby from his highchair and wiping his face and hands. “And to think I was doing all of this for you and to save your campaign,” I muttered, pulling Masen to my hip as I threw the diaper bag over my shoulder. I glanced up at him to find him studying me hard.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. Just please, call Scott back. Tell him I’ll meet him at the front entrance.”

  Liam rose and rounded the table and grasped my shoulder.

  “Please, don’t leave,” he pleaded, glancing down to Masen, who was now holding his arms out for his daddy to take him. I choked back a sob as Liam pulled him into his chest.

  “You’re wound,” I protested.

  “I don’t care about my fucking wound,” he ground out, his eyes locked on Masen. His love for our son radiated off him, almost bringing me to my knees. How could this wonderful man have possibly cheated on me with Texanne?

  “I’m not trying to keep Masen from you, Liam. I’d never, ever do that. You can come get him anytime you want him. Or I can have Scott or Aaron bring him to you. Anytime, I promise,” I said.

  He nodded, then leaned down to put the baby back in my arms. “We’ll do that. Let’s go back to the waiting room, and get you back to see our new nephew and Chelsea before you go back to the farm,” he said, calmer now.

  I nodded and followed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I was silent most of the way back to the farm. It was an hour’s drive to Fredericksburg, and another few minutes outside of town to the farm. Just before we got into town, Scott spoke up.

  “How’s Chelsea?”

  “Resting. They got her blood pressure to come down, but she had a mild stroke. They think she’ll make a full recovery.”

  “And the baby?” he asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

  �
�Tiny. He’ll be in the NICU for a while, at least until they can get him off the vent. He’s beautiful. You can tell he looks a lot like Sammy.”

  He tipped his chin up in reply.

  “So, did you wait in the parking lot the whole time I was at the hospital?”

  “No. Went to see Jen.”

  I smiled, happy he went to see her and they were still a thing. Happier still he’d share the information with me.

  “And how did that go?” I asked, checking Masen to find he’d finished his bottle and was fast asleep in his infant seat. I looked up into the rearview mirror to find his eyebrow raised at me.

  “Fine. Don’t answer,” I retorted. He grunted in reply, putting his blinker on and turning onto Main Street. I watched the quaint storefronts pass by, brightly lit in the darkness, the garlands and lights shining beautifully to remind me how lonely this holiday would be for us.

  * * *

  I’d spent so many holidays alone since Aunt Deb died, I couldn’t even count them. But that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day would be the longest two days of my life. I was relieved when they were finally over.

  I woke the Monday after Christmas to the sound of someone pounding on the door downstairs. Shocked, I glanced out the window into the daylight. I never slept in, but I guess exhaustion finally won out.

  I hadn’t slept well since I’d seen Liam. I’d spent the rest of Christmas Eve and all of Christmas Day crying my eyes out. I’d crawled out of bed only to see to Masen and to check my phone for updates on Chelsea and the baby. Ellen kept me updated, texting me two or three times a day. Chelsea was getting stronger and didn’t seem to have any lingering effects from the stroke, and they hoped she could leave the hospital soon. The baby was stable and seemed to be progressing normally for a preemie. At the relief I felt hearing the news, I’d sneaked a peek at the rest of my text messages and finally broke down and read all Liam had sent since I’d been gone. The emotions I felt put me back in the bed until now.

  As I pulled a sweatshirt over my short gown and yoga pants, I heard the pounding resume, along with a ring of the doorbell. Then as I topped the stairs with a sleepy Masen in tow, I heard Scott’s voice.

  “Christ, woman, keep your pants on,” he mumbled, turning from the door. He passed me at the bottom of the stairs and gave me the head-nod. I noticed in passing his shirtless state, the waistband of his flannel pants hanging low on his hips. It was distracting to say the least.

  Tana and Sunni swept in behind him, their arms full of boxes and sacks.

  “What’s all of this?” I asked.

  “Christmas! Liam called and asked if we were coming to see you. He sent all of this with Sean, for us to give to you,” Tana answered as she dumped her load on the sofa. She then turned to me and took Masen from me for a cuddle.

  “It’s Masen’s Christmas presents,” Sunni added, placing the sacks she carried in the floor.

  “Thanks, you guys,” I said, my eyes full of tears. Tana peered at me from around Masen. She held him dangling in front of her where she’d been blowing raspberries on his bare tummy.

  “Coffee’s on,” Scott mumbled, making his way back through the house from the kitchen, pulling a thermal t-shirt on and then exiting the front door.

  “What’s going on?” Tana asked, her eyebrow raised.

  I sank down on the sofa beside all the packages and began to sort through them as I asked, “What do you mean?”

  “The Scott-ster and you,” she pointed to me in my yoga pants. “You look pretty relaxed together. Really comfy.”

  Sunni tore her eyes away from the front door. “He has the case of beer thing going on,” she said, her eyes dreamy as she motioned to her stomach. Tana wrinkled her eyes for a moment, trying to translate the comment into Texas-speak.

  “Um, what?” I asked again in confusion, still frowning at what Tana had implied about me and Scott.

  “His bare chest and abdominal muscles. His case of beer,” she repeated.

  Tana burst out laughing and turned to me. “She means his six-pack. Holy shit, but that’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said,” she said as she continued to giggle, holding her stomach and falling back onto the large chair by the fireplace.

  “He is hot without his shirt on. I see what Jen sees in him, now,” Sunni said, ignoring Tana’s banter. “Does he go around without his shirt on all the time?”

  “Oh, come on, really?” I asked them both. “He sleeps on the couch downstairs. That’s why he answered the door shirtless. Geesh,” I admonished them. “And that’s the first time I’ve seen him without his shirt on, as well.”

  “Well, that’s good. Because Jen would totally kick your ass, and I would have to choose sides. That would suck,” Tana said.

  Sunni sank down on the sofa beside me. I took the opportunity to pull her in for a long-overdue hug.

  “How are you,” I asked. It was the first time I’d seen her since she got out of the hospital.

  “I’m good. All healed up.”

  “And Colt?”

  “Oh, he’s good too. Reeeally good,” Tana drawled. Sunni’s face broke into the widest smile I’d ever seen on her.

  “Do tell,” I teased, feeling much lighter around my best friends. It sucked that, in alienating myself from Liam and our life, I’d included my friends.

  “Well,” Tana drawled, “Seems our dude the bull rider is quite the hovering, doting boyfriend. He has been with her,” she thumbed toward Sunni, “since she left the hospital. I’ve also heard that he’s soooo with her, he won’t even let her sleep alone.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about these athletes?” Sunni asked, her wide-eyed expression adorable as always.

  “What about them?” I asked, moving a box to the coffee table. It had “To Kelly” on the tag and was wrapped in matte-blue paper, unlike all the other gifts brightly wrapped in Santa and reindeer paper.

  “He is an amazing lover,” she whispered. “He has such stamina,” she added, as if it would be a big secret.

  “And once again, I must translate the belly-dancer monologues. She means he’s hung and he knows how to use it,” Tana countered, rising with Masen. “He’s wet, I’m gonna change him.”

  “Top of the stairs in the master bedroom. His diapers are in the bag at the foot of the playpen,” I answered.

  As Tana climbed the stairs with Masen, Sunni turned to me.

  “I hope you’re not angry with Tana, but she told me about the tape of Liam and Texanne.”

  “Sunni,” I began, my hand up.

  “No, you don’t,” she barked back at me. “You are making the wrong decision. And you need to talk to your husband about everything,” she admonished firmly.

  “Honey, I love that both of you are concerned, but I have to do this my way. The threats have stopped, so safety is one less thing to worry about. The publicity for Liam since the shooting has all been good and his numbers are the highest they’ve ever been. The press hasn’t caught wind of my leaving, so for now, it’s all good. I want it to stay that way.”

  “No you don’t,” Tana butted in as she descended the stairs. “It’s time to talk all of this out. You can’t stay in limbo forever. You need to call him and invite him out to see Masen. While he’s here, talk to him. Let him see the damn video,” she said in a huff as she dropped back to the couch beside me.

  “No! No, it’s too raw. I can’t,” I began, my throat getting thick. I needed to change the subject. “Why didn’t Jen come with you?”

  “She and Scott are fighting, I think. She doesn’t want to see him right now, as much as she wants to see you. She said she’ll call you in a day or two,” Tana answered, kissing Masen on the nose repeatedly and making him giggle.

  “She and Scott are fighting?” I whispered, glancing out the front window to see Scott in one of the rockers, sipping his coffee and looking out over the hills in the distance.

  “She’s been doing some research, you know, about your blackmail. She’s been looking into Mr. Whel
an but hasn’t found anything. I think she told Scott and he was mad at her for interfering,” Sunni said.

  I immediately felt guilty, my eyes going back to Scott. He was definitely a loner, and a private person. I hated that Jen getting involved had caused problems for them. I wanted my friends to be happy, together.

  “Hey, why don’t we open some of these presents,” Tana said, picking up one of the packages from the coffee table.

  “I…I think I’ll save them for later,” I murmured.

  “Now, that is a good idea. You could invite Liam out to open them when he comes to see Masen?” Sunni asked hopefully.

  “Stop pushing her,” Tana admonished. She turned to me as she handed Masen to Sunni. “At least open ours?”

  I looked guiltily to her and Sunni as she placed the gift bag in my lap. “I didn’t have a chance to get y’all anything.”

  Tana flopped her hand dismissively. “That’s not what this is about. We wanted to be with you and bring you back.”

  I slipped a pair of footed jammies out of the sack, Houston Texans colors, Sean’s number twelve on the front. The smallest official team jersey I’d ever seen followed, also with Sean’s number on the front.

  “They’re adorable,” I said, spreading the jersey on my lap.

  “They’re from Sean and me. Sean’s idea, of course,” she bumped me with her shoulder.

  “And this is from Colten and me,” Sunni said, pushing a box across the coffee table. The box was creatively adorned in bright ribbons and bows, tiny cowboy boots, horseshoes and hats covering the entire box and I couldn’t see how to start to unwrap it.

  “Just lift the lid,” she urged, fairly jumping out of her chair with excitement. Masen gurgled and jumped in her lap.

  The lid lifted off, wrapped separately from the box. Of course, they’d one-upped Tana and Sean. Their gift included a western shirt, jeans and what I imagined had to be the tiniest pair of chaps made. On the bottom, I found a onesie with “This actually is my first rodeo” printed on the front with a lasso around the words.

  “It’s adorable,” Tana said, taking it from me. “Baby clothes are so much fun.”