Page 247 of Wait for Him

Lauren handed me a bottle of water earlier, watched me take one sip, then stood directly in front of me until I drank half of it.

I didn’t even argue.

That’s how you know tonight has gotten weird.

Samson has been doing what Samson does, checking on people without making it obvious he's checking on them. He’s talked to Joe’s family, checked on James about six times without ever actually asking if he’s okay, and keeps finding reasons to wander near whichever person looks like they might be winding themselves up. Meanwhile, he's just as anxious as the rest of us. He’s simply better at hiding it.

They're just being them.

Jade and Macy claim a corner of the waiting room and make their rounds every little while, usually because they’re bored or because they’ve decided somebody somewhere knows something they haven't been told yet. Jade has already attempted to charm information out of two nurses. Macy apologized to both of them.

A few members of Jenn and Joe’s family are here too, and somewhere over the last few hours we've somehow knighted them into our inner circle of chaos. They're sharing snacks and phone chargers now. One of Joe's cousins brought coffee for everybody. His mother and Lauren have exchanged baked-good recipes.

It's over for them.

They're family now.

Jenn’s baby arrived a little over an hour ago. We haven’t been able to go back and see either of them yet because she started shaking pretty badly after the delivery. The nurses told us it can happen after an epidural, especially with the hormones and adrenaline crashing all at once, so they’ve got her in recovery until it passes and she’s feeling more like herself.

I know she's okay.

They've told us she's okay.

Joe came out and personally told us she's okay.

I would still very much like to lay eyes on her myself.

He only stayed in the waiting room for a few minutes before going back to her. Long enough to tell everyone that both mom and baby are healthy, his son is beautiful and, according to Joe, looks exactly like his dad.

The baby is approximately an hour old.

He looks like a potato.

I didn't tell Joe that because the man was already a complete fucking mess. Hair everywhere, eyes swollen, hospital gown half untied, crying so hard he had to stop twice while telling us how perfect his son is.

Rightfully so. I don’t think he made it through three consecutive words without crying, laughing or stopping to wipe his face. He kept saying, “I have a son,” like he needed to hear himself say it before he could believe it.

I can’t wait to meet the little guy, but there’s no rush. Jenn just pushed an entire human out of her body. She can take all the damn time she needs before the rest of us descend on her like a very emotional parade.

James has been on his Switch with his brother and sister most of the night. He’s trying to act like this is all perfectly normal, but every time one of those doors opens, his head shoots up.

Actually, all of our heads do. Then we pretend they didn’t.

My parents should be here. That part hurts today especially.

My mom should be sitting beside me asking every five minutes if we’ve heard anything. My dad would’ve found some random man in the waiting room to talk to and known his entire life story by now. They should’ve met Jackson. They should’ve seen Michael become a father. They should’ve been part of this.

I wish I didn’t have to lose them to have the life I have now. I wish both things could’ve existed at the same time.

But I wouldn’t change this life or these people.

There was probably a time when admitting that would’ve made me feel guilty, like loving what came after somehow meant I loved what came before less.

It doesn’t anymore.

I feel Jackson’s palm cup my jaw and blink, realizing I must’ve spaced out again. I lean into his hand and look up at him.

“Hi, baby.”