Read Online Waiting Fate by W.B. Kinnette - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: W.B. Kinnette
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baby and share her germs. If this hurts me so bad, imagine how it would feel to a toddler. “There you are, you little sneak,” Bev said, poking her head through the door. “How’d you get up here again without me noticing?”
Desee clutched Ivy’s arm. “Mama!” she cried.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Ivy gasped. “We just don’t want you to get sick.”
“Mama! Please?” Desee sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy whispered.
Bev took Desee out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Ivy shuddered at the thought of Desee being in this much pain, and as she lay there in her bed watching her cherubic little angel reaching desperately over Bev’s shoulders for her mama, tears stained Ivy’s cheeks. In her feverish delirium, Ivy was sure she was going to die and never see her baby again. Please don’t let me die. If I die, who will protect her from Vick?
A few hours later, Bev peeked in again. Ivy forced an eye open, but that was the most she could do. She’d been in pain before; good grief, she’d been in the hospital before with broken bones and crushed cheekbones, but for some reason this was kicking her butt something fierce. “We’re just going to run some errands with Desee. We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Bev said, coming in to lay her hand on Ivy’s forehead. She shook her head and mumbled about needing to get Ivy to the doctor and left. Ivy stared at the unicorn poster on her ceiling and prayed for sleep, but it wasn’t coming.
Her phone beeped — a text message, and if her whole body hadn’t hurt, her heart would have sped up at the hope that it was Archer. But it hurt for her heart to beat at all, let alone quickly, so she willed it to beat normally, or even slower than normal, if possible, as she checked the message. It wasn’t from Archer — Gunner was writing to see if she was okay and if she needed anything. I’m good, thanks. Lying via text message didn’t count as lying, did it? She paused and then continued typing, You’re such a good friend.
An hour later, when she was finally dozing off, her phone buzzed again. Half-groaning as she watched sleep disappear through her fingers, and half-hoping it was Archer, she rolled over and reached for the obnoxious little device that seemed intent on making her miserable. “Hello?” she croaked.
“Ivy?” Ivy blinked. Her mom sounded frantic. Never a good sign.
“Hi, Mom.”
“We have sort of a problem.” By the worry in Bev’s voice, Ivy was willing to bet it wasn’t sort of anything.
“What’s wrong?” Talking hurt. She wished her mom would just tell her what was going on so Ivy could go back to trying not to die.
“We, uh, locked Desee in the car. And the spare key is there the house.”
Ivy squeaked, which was as much noise as she could make, and even that brought tears to her eyes. “Where are you?” she gasped.
“We’re at the mouth of the canyon. At Playground Sports. We stopped to show Desee the swing sets, and then we put her back in her car seat —”
“Where’s the spare key?” Ivy croaked, cutting her mom off mid-explanation. Playground Sports was about a half-hour away. If she wasn’t speeding. She was already trying to struggle to her feet by the time her mom answered, “It’s in the mudroom, above the washing machine in a jar.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Are you sure? Can you drive?” Ivy leaned against the wall as the room spun. Nope. Not sure.
In the background, she heard Jack’s voice. “She’s crying. We’ve gotta get in there somehow.”
Ivy gritted her teeth. “I’m coming. Just try to keep her calm.” She shoved tennis shoes on and stumbled down the stairs, terrified of driving and terrified for Desee, trapped in the car in the cold. By the time she made it to her car and put it in drive, she’d forgotten her fear of driving and could only think of her baby, crying and scared and trapped in the car by herself. “I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.”
Ivy slammed
Desee clutched Ivy’s arm. “Mama!” she cried.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Ivy gasped. “We just don’t want you to get sick.”
“Mama! Please?” Desee sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy whispered.
Bev took Desee out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Ivy shuddered at the thought of Desee being in this much pain, and as she lay there in her bed watching her cherubic little angel reaching desperately over Bev’s shoulders for her mama, tears stained Ivy’s cheeks. In her feverish delirium, Ivy was sure she was going to die and never see her baby again. Please don’t let me die. If I die, who will protect her from Vick?
A few hours later, Bev peeked in again. Ivy forced an eye open, but that was the most she could do. She’d been in pain before; good grief, she’d been in the hospital before with broken bones and crushed cheekbones, but for some reason this was kicking her butt something fierce. “We’re just going to run some errands with Desee. We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Bev said, coming in to lay her hand on Ivy’s forehead. She shook her head and mumbled about needing to get Ivy to the doctor and left. Ivy stared at the unicorn poster on her ceiling and prayed for sleep, but it wasn’t coming.
Her phone beeped — a text message, and if her whole body hadn’t hurt, her heart would have sped up at the hope that it was Archer. But it hurt for her heart to beat at all, let alone quickly, so she willed it to beat normally, or even slower than normal, if possible, as she checked the message. It wasn’t from Archer — Gunner was writing to see if she was okay and if she needed anything. I’m good, thanks. Lying via text message didn’t count as lying, did it? She paused and then continued typing, You’re such a good friend.
An hour later, when she was finally dozing off, her phone buzzed again. Half-groaning as she watched sleep disappear through her fingers, and half-hoping it was Archer, she rolled over and reached for the obnoxious little device that seemed intent on making her miserable. “Hello?” she croaked.
“Ivy?” Ivy blinked. Her mom sounded frantic. Never a good sign.
“Hi, Mom.”
“We have sort of a problem.” By the worry in Bev’s voice, Ivy was willing to bet it wasn’t sort of anything.
“What’s wrong?” Talking hurt. She wished her mom would just tell her what was going on so Ivy could go back to trying not to die.
“We, uh, locked Desee in the car. And the spare key is there the house.”
Ivy squeaked, which was as much noise as she could make, and even that brought tears to her eyes. “Where are you?” she gasped.
“We’re at the mouth of the canyon. At Playground Sports. We stopped to show Desee the swing sets, and then we put her back in her car seat —”
“Where’s the spare key?” Ivy croaked, cutting her mom off mid-explanation. Playground Sports was about a half-hour away. If she wasn’t speeding. She was already trying to struggle to her feet by the time her mom answered, “It’s in the mudroom, above the washing machine in a jar.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Are you sure? Can you drive?” Ivy leaned against the wall as the room spun. Nope. Not sure.
In the background, she heard Jack’s voice. “She’s crying. We’ve gotta get in there somehow.”
Ivy gritted her teeth. “I’m coming. Just try to keep her calm.” She shoved tennis shoes on and stumbled down the stairs, terrified of driving and terrified for Desee, trapped in the car in the cold. By the time she made it to her car and put it in drive, she’d forgotten her fear of driving and could only think of her baby, crying and scared and trapped in the car by herself. “I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.”
Ivy slammed
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