Someone Like You: Wild Widows Series, Book 1 Read online

  I miss the warm relationship I shared with Susan, in particular, and her husband, Pete, and I hope against hope we might regain some of our former closeness after the baby arrives. My child will tie our two families together forever, and I want Susan and Pete, as well as Patrick’s brothers and their families, to be a big part of his or her life.

  I try to push the worrisome thoughts about my in-laws to the back burner so I can enjoy the day with my friends. Tomorrow, May 28, is Patrick’s birthday. The Connollys asked me to come to their house for dinner, but I told them I’m planning to spend the day alone at home. I even scheduled the day off from work, knowing I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything productive that day. I’ve decided I’m ready to watch the wedding video, and that’s how I plan to honor him on what would’ve been his thirty-second birthday.

  In my bedroom, I pack a tote bag with sunscreen, a hat, my maternity bathing suit in case I get brave enough to take a dip in Iris’s pool and one of Patrick’s DEA T-shirts. His clothes have become an essential part of my wardrobe as I explode out of everything else.

  The one good thing about pregnancy is that I’ve put on a little weight that has filled out my cheeks and made me look healthy again, even if my ankles are so swollen, I can barely see my feet. Dr. Gordon says that’s perfectly normal, especially this time of year when it starts to get hot again, but he’s keeping a close eye on me to make sure it doesn’t turn into preeclampsia.

  I read up on what that is and then immediately regretted it.

  I’m fine, my baby is fine, and that’s how it’s going to stay.

  Iris told me I have nothing to worry about because I’ve already had my big tragedy, so the rest of my life ought to be smooth sailing. If only I could believe that. Anxiety was never part of my life until I lost Patrick and discovered how everything you hold dear can be lost in an instant. Now I worry about everything—and everyone.

  My phone chimes with a text from Derek. Here.

  Coming!

  Yesterday, at my checkup with Dr. Gordon, he advised me to remove my rings in case my hands swell like my feet have. “You don’t want to wait and have to have them cut off,” he said. I should’ve done it when I got home yesterday, but I didn’t, and I know I should since it’s warm outside, and the heat doesn’t help with the swelling.

  As I gaze down at my gorgeous rings on my left hand, I decide to do it quickly before it can become “a thing” that’ll ruin my day. I work them off my finger, which is harder than I expect it to be, indicating the swelling is already affecting my hands. I place them in my jewelry box, grab my bags and head downstairs to meet Derek and Maeve.

  It’s no big deal that I’m not wearing my rings. I can always put them back on after the baby comes. The last thing I want is to have them cut off, so it’s the right thing to remove them now. I would’ve had to do that even if Patrick was still here.

  Like everything, however, it’s harder because he isn’t.

  20

  Roni

  Derek gets out of the running car to take my bags from me and stashes them in the back. Then he’s there to help me into the passenger seat. “How’re you feeling today?”

  He asks me that every day. “Bigger than a whale.”

  “Cutest whale I’ve ever seen,” he says with a wink.

  See how he does that? Makes me feel special with five little words that mean the world to me because I don’t have my husband to tell me I’m a cute preggo? How could anyone not fall for a man who’s handsome, sexy, kind, thoughtful, sweet and always thinking of ways to make your life easier? I’m definitely falling for him, if I haven’t already fallen, that is.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. I say so.”

  “Ron!”

  I turn to smile at the little girl buckled into her car seat. “Hi, Maeve.”

  “Party!”

  “Yes, we’re going to a party.”

  “She’s very excited to swim in Miss Iris’s pool,” Derek says. “We had a long talk about staying away from the pool unless Daddy is there, didn’t we, pumpkin?”

  “No pool, Daddy.”

  “That’s right.” He glances at me. “Are all little girls as cute as mine is?”

  “Nope. None of them are.”

  “I’m glad you agree. If you didn’t, that might’ve been a deal breaker.”

  “Do we have a deal?” I ask casually, as if our deal is no big deal.

  “I sort of thought we did.”

  “We should probably talk about that at some point, huh?”

  “Probably so. I’ll look forward to that.”

  Even though the idea of actually discussing with Derek what we’re doing makes me nervous, I also feel silly and lighthearted, the way I did when I first met Patrick, and everything seemed possible. It’s a welcome relief from the months of heavy grief, but it’s not without the ever-present gray space that sits between joy and sorrow.

  When we arrive at Iris’s house, we’re surrounded by our Wild Widows, who’ve become like a second family to me. Especially Iris, who is one of my new best friends. Her kids, Tyler, Sophia and Laney are as excited about my baby as I am, or so it seems. They can’t wait to “babysit” for me and have promised to teach the baby everything he or she needs to know to survive in the world.

  Iris and Derek set me up by the pool with my swollen feet propped on a footstool Iris brings out from her living room. “You’re too good to me,” I tell her.

  “You’re the most adorable pregnant lady I’ve ever seen,” she says for the umpteenth time. She’s taken it upon herself to say all the things my late husband would’ve said to me as my body bloomed with pregnancy.

  “I don’t know about that, but I’ll be damned glad when it’s over.”

  “We all say that. It’s supposed to be the most natural thing, but try telling that to lungs being squeezed, a bladder being sat upon and skin that feels like it’s going to burst at any second.”

  “Right? I’m stuck between wanting the pregnancy to be over and being terrified to have the baby.”

  “It’s all going to be fine. Try not to worry.”

  I want to soak up the assurances of a mother with three children, but as the birth has gotten closer, I’m increasingly more anxious about the actual delivery. The childbirth classes I took with Rebecca, who will be my coach, didn’t help allay those fears. Rather, they only made the fear more intense. In the last month, I’ve had to stop reading the what-to-expect books and stay offline when it comes to childbirth.

  Derek brings me an ice water with lemon and a plate of appetizers.

  “Thank you,” I say, smiling up at him. How blessed am I to have these new friends who understand my journey to share this new uncharted season with?

  “Welcome.”

  Naomi, Kinsley and Brielle, carrying her little Charlie, join me on lounges by the pool where we while away a lovely afternoon of sun, fun and friends. Aurora, the one who had her sights set on Derek, still hasn’t come back to our group. Iris has reached out to check on her again, but hasn’t heard anything from her. While I’m glad not to have her glaring at me at every get-together, I do worry about whether she’s okay. Her ex-husband’s trial is coming up, so it’s been in the news a lot lately.

  Derek spends much of the afternoon in the pool with Maeve as well as Adrian and his son, Xavier. Maeve adores Xavier and talks about him all the time, so she’s thrilled to be swimming with him, Iris’s kids and Wynter, who has come so far out of her shell since I first met her as to barely resemble the person she was then. We’re all so proud of her and the progress she’s made since losing her young husband to bone cancer.

  The Wild Widows are a lovely group of people, and they’ve been one of the greatest blessings of this difficult time for me. I’m so thankful as I sit among these special friends who feel like family and enjoy this beautiful late spring day. Just like the buds on the trees and the flowers in the garden, I feel myself emerging from a dark winter to all the possibilities that
come with spring.

  As usual lately, I have to pee urgently. When I start to get up, everyone is there to offer hands to help me, making me feel like a little old lady. I start to say so when a gush of fluid between my legs has me wondering with horror if I’ve just peed my pants. I’m still staring at the puddle at my feet when Iris speaks up.

  “Honey, I think your water just broke.”

  * * *

  This cannot be happening! It’s a month early! The baby isn’t ready, and neither am I! My emotions border on pure hysteria as everyone scrambles to figure out what to do with me. “Oh my God, Rebecca is in Colorado this weekend visiting her in-laws. My parents are away, and so is my other sister!”

  My parents are spending the weekend in Chincoteague Island with old friends, and Pen is at a family reunion in Texas for Luke’s family. They were uncomfortable about leaving me home alone so close to the baby’s due date, but I assured them that with a month to go, it was safe for them to go out of town.

  “Don’t worry,” Derek says. “I’ll go with you. I’ve done this before.”

  His reassurance and his presence help to calm me somewhat, but I still feel like my heart is about to burst from my chest at any second.

  “I’ll have my parents come get Maeve,” Derek says to Iris. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course. Leave her with me and go.”

  Derek takes a minute to explain what’s happening to Maeve, who’s thankfully familiar enough with Iris and her kids that she’s fine about us leaving. She comes over to hug me, her sweet chubby little arms encircling my neck in a death grip.

  “Baby,” she whispers.

  “Love you,” I respond.

  “Love.”

  I don’t want to let her go, but the tightening ache in my abdomen is a sign that my water breaking was the start of things to come. I’m so scared that I tremble uncontrollably as Derek leads Maeve over to Brielle, who will watch her while Iris helps him get me to the car.

  In the background, I hear Maeve crying as we walk away. I want to go back to her, to assure her that everything is all right, but I can’t do that right now.

  “Don’t worry,” Iris says. “She’ll be playing and laughing again in no time.”

  When I’m seat-belted into the front seat of Derek’s car with my beach towel under me, Iris squats to look me in the eye. “Just keep breathing. You’re fine. The baby is fine.”

  My eyes flood with tears. “I’m scared.”

  “Breathe. I promise you can do this.”

  As I nod to reassure her that I’m okay when I’m anything but, I want Patrick so fiercely that the need for him threatens to consume me.

  She leans in to hug me before she shuts the door and waves us off.

  Derek is on the phone with his parents making arrangements for Maeve as I sob softly.

  The emotional tsunami was to be expected, I suppose. Of course I want Patrick as I’m about to have our child. And then I recall the date. It’s one day before his birthday. Will the baby be born today or tomorrow, on Patrick’s birthday? I should notify my parents and Patrick’s, but I don’t want to worry them if this is a false alarm.

  Derek ends the call with his parents and reaches for my hand. “How you doing?”

  “Okay. I guess.”

  “You should call to let them know you’re coming.”

  What does it say about me as a mother that it never occurred to me to call ahead to the hospital? That maybe I’m not at all ready for any of this. “Oh, good idea.” I make the call to the number we were given in the birthing class and let them know I’m coming.

  “We’ll meet you at the main entrance,” the nurse says.

  “All set,” I tell Derek. “They’re going to meet us.”

  He reaches for my hand. “Hold on to me. I’m right here.”

  I curl my hand around his and hold on tight as the pain becomes a bit more intense. “Thank you.”

  He drives faster than he probably should to get me back to the District and the George Washington University Hospital.

  I’m so scared and nervous. The sight of the hospital makes it real, and everything in me recoils from going in there.

  “Are you breathing?” Derek asks.

  I realize I’m holding my breath, and his question spurs me to release it slowly.

  “Keep breathing. It’ll help.”

  A nurse wearing pink scrubs is waiting at the main door with a wheelchair. She tells Derek where to find me after he parks and whisks me inside and upstairs to the OB ward that I toured during my class. The team up there is so efficient that they have me changed into a gown and attached to a fetal heartrate monitor before Derek arrives fifteen minutes later.

  “You can come right over here, Mr. Connolly,” the nurse says.

  The words are an arrow to my heart. “He’s Mr. Kavanaugh,” I tell the nurse. “Mr. Connolly died almost eight months ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, even if it isn’t okay at all. I requested that information be included in my patient record, but they probably didn’t have time to delve into that before I arrived a month early. “Will the baby be okay coming this early?”

  “Any time after thirty-six weeks, you’re in the zone, but we’ll see what the doctor says when he arrives.”

  The next few hours pass in a flurry of activity, examinations, monitors and people in and out.

  “Looks like we’re having a baby today or tomorrow,” Dr. Gordon declares after he thoroughly examines me. His presence helps to calm me.

  Derek offers to leave the room for the exam, but I want him right there with me. I just hope he doesn’t see anything that can’t be unseen.

  It’s such a strange mix of sadness, joy, anxiety and excitement. I’m so happy Derek is there with me. That feels right even if everything about it is wrong. Patrick ought to be standing beside me, feeding me ice chips, running cold cloths over my face and telling me I’m doing great. I’m weepy for him in a way I haven’t been for a while now, which makes me feel guilty. Why haven’t I been weepy for him the way I was at first? What’s wrong with me that I’m not still crying for the love of my life every day?

  “Roni.”

  Derek’s voice snaps me out of the spiral my thoughts have taken me on.

  I look up at him.

  He takes hold of my hand, the one without the IV. If I never have to have another IV needle in my hand, that’ll be fine with me. “Breathe and stop doing whatever it is you’re doing to yourself. You’ve got enough to deal with today without whatever you’re adding to the mix.”

  “Patrick should be here.”

  “I bet he is. I bet he’s right here watching over you and your baby and making sure you’re both safe.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do. I’m sure there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than wherever you are.” With his free hand, he uses a tissue to wipe up my tears.

  “It’s so unfair that he has to miss this. That he’ll miss everything.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it unfair for me to be talking about him with you?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Oh,” I say on a long exhale. “Okay. Good.”

  “You never have to worry about talking about him with me, Roni. He’s such a big part of you, and he always will be. He’s welcome in whatever relationship you and I have, just as I hope Victoria is, too.”

  “Yes, she is. For sure.” I think of the photos of his gorgeous wife that I’ve seen around his house and feel sad for him, for both of us.

  “Don’t worry about stuff that you don’t need to.”

  “I’m an emotional disaster area today.”

  He wipes away more of my tears. “Nah, you’re about to become a mom for the first time. You’re allowed to feel all the things.”

  “Was Victoria like this when she had Maeve?”

  “Yep. It’s perfectly normal.”

  “I know how much you hate gi
rl tears,” I say, smiling at him.

  He makes a comically stern face that’s wildly out of character for him. “I’ll make an exception for today and tomorrow, and then we’re back to business as usual with no girl tears allowed.”

  I wouldn’t have expected to laugh right then, but leave it to Derek. “We never got to have that conversation we had planned.”

  “We will. We’ve got all the time in the world to have every conversation we need to have. For now, let’s focus on bringing your little one into the world.”

  “Thanks for being here with me. It’s not what you signed on for—”

  “I’m here for all of it, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. Focus on you and the baby. It’s all good.”

  His calm demeanor and reassurances have me releasing a deep breath.

  “Would you rather have a girlfriend here with you for this?”

  At some point, he’s become my touchstone, my true north, the one I want by my side for the biggest moment of my life. “I’d rather have you, unless you want to get back to Maeve.”

  “She’s fine with my parents, and I’m right where I want to be.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Do you want me to have someone grab your bag from your place?”

  “I hadn’t packed anything yet,” I say, feeling sheepish. “I thought I had time.”

  “The baby had other plans.”

  The words are stolen from me by the sharpest pain I’ve had yet. Crap, that hurt. Within an hour, I’m begging for an epidural.

  “I’ve called the anesthesiologist,” the nurse says, “but they’re backed up. They’ll be here soon.”

  Things go downhill fast from there. My sisters and friends with kids told me I wouldn’t remember much about giving birth. They said I’d be so happy to have the baby that the pain wouldn’t matter. I’ve already decided that’s a bunch of bullshit, and I’m nowhere near ready to push yet. I’m so out of my mind with the pain that I barely care when the anesthesiologist finally shows up and sticks a needle in my back that provides instant relief.