*****068:
Bridget, beautiful long red hair flowing nearly to her waist, slumped in a straight backed arm chair uncomfortably, one foot kicked out, touching the incubator with her bare toes, the jeans and tight top she'd worn for the concert slightly awry, as were the myriad beaded necklaces and bracelets. Her eyes teared up again as she sat and thought about the occurrences this night-- and she swiped at them angrily with the handkerchief someone had given her.
She was a patient person-- she was waiting for Julian to get back with a change of clothes. She was waiting for him to bring Tracy. She was waiting for the doctors to come in and declare Steven to be HIV positive or not.
Coral had fallen asleep on the teeny half sofa on the other side of the private space. They'd had to be wheeled to a private space in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit), due to the horrible masses of paparazzi and reporters. Casey's team of doctors had come and gone, and now a steady stream of hospital staff making arrangements snuck in to ask questions, but seeing as Coral had finally succumbed to her jet lag and the over stimulation, they left her alone.
Bridget closed her eyes. When she opened them, Julian softly stepped into the room. Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up, but before she could completely regain an upright position, a fair head slid to her knees and buried itself in her lap. Her hands rose, as her eyes slid to Julian's.
He shuddered as Tracy sobbed into Bridget's warm body, her back quaking with emotion, as both arms encircled Bridget tightly. Julian dropped to his knees and bent over his best friend, holding her as she held his wife, holding them both, feeling the weight of sudden responsibility. For all of them, Casey had been the glue, the connection, the visible decision maker. Now, he had left Julian to carry on, to absorb the impact of these two precious souls they had spent half their lives linked to.
As strange as it seemed.
They'd had their share of hardship-- and recovery.
Julian crumbled, his chin pressing hard against Tracy's shoulder blades. He shuddered again, closing his eyes against the trembling.
"Don't cry, Jules." Bridget said, leaning forward to press her forehead against his.
"I haven't yet---." He choked, looking up over Tracy's back, his eyes connecting with Bridget's tortured ones, as they both stroked Tracy's hair and arms. It was symbolic of how they felt about each other. "I haven't broken down, but God, Bridge, this is so hard! You-- shit-- oh God. I can't help it."
He sat back as Coral stirred on the sofa, and Bridget allowed Tracy to sit back on the ground, hanging her head in her hands.
Someone in the doorway cleared their throats. "Sorry to interrupt. I have some papers for Miss McCaffrey. And the nurse is here to talk about the baby's condition."
Tracy wiped her eyes on her shirt hem and then swiveled on the floor as Julian struggled to his feet, their eyes met briefly, in understanding. His bored into hers softly, full of sorrow and pain. She bit her lips and tried to offer him a small smile. It was enough. Bridget adjusted herself and Coral sat up stiffly, sniffling.
The nurse was competent and understanding, gentle and compassionate as she explained about Steven's condition. He had a low birth weight, due to his premature status, but he wasn't that bad off, and they detected no respiratory distress, his lungs were fine. They'd keep him until the tests came back determining if he was HIV positive, but the adoption could go through in any case. The birth mother had requested it go though as soon as possible, and she did not want to see the baby at all.
Tracy stood and took the clipboard to the counter, there perusing the papers through her watery eyes. She looked up, biting her lips. Bridget shook out her jeans and leaned over her, reading the small print. This didn't exactly feel like they had time, but they felt like the gist of it being so rushed was so that if anything happened to the baby Tracy would be financially responsible.
Another nurse came in then, explaining that she was just going to check on the baby. "Twenty-five percent of babies born to HIV positive mothers are infected in the womb, during delivery, or when breast feeding. Steven did not breast feed-- yet."
"I--." Tracy wiped her eyes again, and pushed the signed papers away. "I think, I read somewhere there's a-- a breast milk bank. At least at home there is, in Cali. I want him to have the best." She turned to the incubator for the first time, as the nurse put her gloved hands through the little glass shielded openings. Taking the vitals, adjusting the teeny tiny diaper.
"Yes, there are breast milk banks, they can be expensive. But it would be the best for him." The nurse finished and looked at Tracy's tear stained face. "I'm so sorry for your loss. This must be very hard--- on all of you."
Tracy jerked her chin down, her eyes slid to the tiny figure inside the glass. "May I touch him?"
"Yes. Wash your hands again in the NICU sinks with the antibacterial soaps at least two minutes. Then yes, it will be good for him to feel your touch."
"And me?" Bridget asked, wiping her eyes. "And Jules?"
The nurse gave the other nurse an inquisitive gaze and then nodded. "This isn't exactly the normal thing. Usually, only two people are allowed in the room at a time, but in your case, with your loss so freshly apparent. Yes, and grandma too. Just for a few minutes."
They stood aside as Tracy made her unsteady way back to the sinks where she'd already washed once, but now again, before touching her brand new son. As the hot water caressed her hands she forced herself to breathe, to sink into the acceptance she believed was there. Her heart ached for Casey, his ups and downs, the good and the bad. Her heart cried in fear for the little baby boy there in the other room, his eyes squeezed shut against this unfamiliar and unfriendly aloneness.
Never rejected, my little love. You're going to live, you're going to be my baby. No baby boy could ever be more wanted and loved.
She dried her hands and returned to the private room, the first one back. She wondered briefly if Coral should be the first to touch him, little Steven, named for her oldest boy, who had already passed away.
The nurse was there, had dimmed the lights all around and was talking in a low voice to the other nurse. Tracy nodded and then lifted the flaps and put her hands inside.
She caressed the little cheek, held the tiny clasped fingers, and felt her tears well up again. "Steven..... Steven... Mommy loves you."
Bridget joined her on the other side, pulling back the flaps and easing her hand into the warm interior, she stroked the little fuzz covered leg. "Oh, Tracy, he's so beautiful!"
"I know!" Tracy whispered, watching Steven's face relax as she let her thumb stroke his arm. "He doesn't quite remind me of Danny. His features are different."
"More Jolie."
"He just looks like a baby." Julian joined them. "A fatherless baby."
Both girls felt his pain. "He's not fatherless, Raine is his father." Tracy said quietly, her eyes meeting Bridget's. "I can't help it. It is what it is."
Bridget's eyes welled up and she looked away. Julian shivered into her side. "Damn Trace, that's cold."
Tracy kept her eyes on the baby. "Darling love bug, Momma is here. Momma loves you."
"Casey did not like Raine Maverick." Julian said with that touch of asperity. Tracy looked up at him slowly. His eyes burned hers. She read his distance from her accurately, her psych classes coming to her rescue as she recognized the anger that accompanied grief.
"No." She agreed.
"I don't know if I can deal with that thought."
Tracy strove for composure. He would have to deal with it. She stroked the little arm gently. The baby moved, his fingers splaying in reflex.
"It's going to be okay, Jules."
Bridget pulled her hand out of the incubator and guided Julian's hand inside as Coral came to stand beside him. "Go ahead, Uncle Jules." Coral said softly.
Julian hesitated, then finally touched the tip of his finger to the tiny palm. Steven curled against him instinctively. His face even turned slightly to that side. Tracy smiled over the top of the glass.
"He senses you will always be there for him."
Julian gave her one extremely frustrated expression. "But will he always be here?"
*****