Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Mom pulls back, her hands instantly cup my cheeks, and I dip my knees to get on her level.
“I know you’re not okay. Neither am I, and neither is your father. What we will do is get through this. We’re with you every step of the way, and the same goes for our grandbaby, Nellie, and your sister. We Barlows can handle anything together.” Dad pulls Mom back into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. It may seem as if he’s supporting his wife, but she’s also supporting him. They have this way about them, a kindred type of love that they’ve had from the very beginning. At least that’s the story they tell. It’s something I’ve wanted for myself, something I hadn’t found in Brooke and she hadn’t found in me.
Dad’s other hand grabs my shoulder, giving me a firm squeeze. He doesn’t say a lot, he doesn’t need to. His grip and the look in his red eyes, nearly bloodshot, say enough. I give him a small nod, and he understands me all too well.
“Family of Kara Barlow?” We all look in the direction of the voice. I’m thankful for the news about my sister, but I’d be a damn liar if I weren’t more than ready to hear about Nellie.
“That’s us,” Dad replies, corralling us closer to the guy wearing a white coat.
“Colt Barlow?” I look from my parents to what I’m assuming is a nurse, judging by the scrubs and lack of coat.
“Go. We’ll figure out what’s going on here, then meet up with you.” Mom realizes I’m being pulled in both directions, and while it’d be nice to have my parents for support with whatever news I’m about to receive, I can do this on my own. Besides, my unborn daughter is already all alone, and if anyone needs somebody, it’s her.
“I’m Colt.” I dig my hands in my pockets, wondering what news she’s going to deliver to me.
“I’m Samantha. Are you ready to meet your baby girl?” I’m unable to formulate words. The news of everything is hitting me all at once, and all I’m left to do is bob my head in answer.
“Sorry, yeah.” I look over my shoulder. Dad lifts his chin, and I do the same. He gets the silent message that I’ll be back out when I can.
“No need to apologize. I’m sure this has been quite the shock. If you’ll follow me back, we’ll have you with her in no time.” She continues to talk on our way through the halls, more than likely realizing the nerves rolling off me are a lot like the waves in the ocean during a storm—tumultuous and never-ending. It’s not until we're at the entrance to the room that the outside noise disappears, and the only thing I’m focused on is my baby girl. She’s in a clear incubator and so damn tiny, wearing nothing but a diaper and connected to monitors of some sort. I’m right in front of her in a few short steps.
“Shit. I need to wash my hands. My clothes are a wreck, and I need to know what I can and can’t do.” I’m talking to the nurse but am looking at Nellie. If my heart could beat out of my chest, it’d surely be doing so now.
“I’m going to grab the doctor. In the meantime, there’s a sink over there, and I’ll grab you a scrub top. Once I’m back in the room with the doctor, we’ll work on you holding her. Until then, you can hold her hand or touch her. I won’t be but a jiff.” The minute the nurse leaves, I wash my hands, scrubbing them three times, going above and beyond to get rid of any traces of grease on my skin and beneath my nails. Then I head right back to where my girl is, hesitant at first, worried I’ll hurt her with my fucked-up way of thinking, but the minute my thumb glides along Nellie’s tiny fingers, she settles a tiny bit. No longer is she squirming, and I, well, even with the weight of the heaviness from this evening, I feel like I’ve got all I’ll ever need right in front of me in the form of a five-pound-and-some-change baby girl.
“I love you, Nellie. I’ll be the best father I can be, and I’ll never let you forget your mom.” The promise slides off my lips, and I know I’ll do anything I can to make it one I’ll never go back on.
1
Colt
PRESENT DAY
“Daddy, stop moving.” Nellie drags the y out in a long and drawn-out process. We’re sitting at the kitchen table. She’s got a nail design kit out, part of her birthday present she received from one of my mechanics yesterday. Every year, we celebrate Nellie’s day on her actual birthday and let her make the choice of what she’d like to do that year. A party, an experience, or like tonight, when we go to my parents’ house, where my sister will be, and Nellie will gorge on cake and ice cream.