Chapter 35: Chapter 35

JAKE

“I feel like an old man,” I sighed, resting my cigar on the edge of the ashtray before taking a sip of brandy.

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed in a hushed whisper, glancing around the cigar lounge. “We’re the youngest guys in here, by at least ten years.”

“I like it,” Evan declared. “It’s a relaxing place to enjoy a cigar and a drink after a long day.”

“I can’t believe Vada went to bed at eight o’clock,” I said.

“It’s been a long week. Eight hours a day at the convention, with some late nights of gambling and shows.”

“What’s the plan now?” Garrett asked.

Evan stubbed out his cigar with a heavy sigh. “We have to stall.”

“Why don’t we extend our stay in Vegas?” I suggested. “Come up with a list of activities Vada would enjoy. Then we’ll take the long route home.”

“The ~really~ long route home,” Evan grumbled.

“Are you seriously ~complaining~ that the situation back home isn’t resolving according to your timetable?” I gasped.

“No,” he snapped. “Of course not. But I’m sure Chris isn’t pleased either. If it were me, I wouldn’t want that.”

We puffed and sipped in silence, melancholy settling over us.

“She likes paintball,” Garrett said.

“Perfect,” I agreed, pulling out my phone to search for paintball locations in Vegas.

“Done,” Evan announced a minute later. “Booked for tomorrow morning.”

“I was gonna do it,” I said.

“I’m the travel supervisor.”

“I say we take a vote,” I proposed. “Who here agrees that Evan’s time as the travel supervisor has ended?”

“Me,” Garrett stated firmly.

“You guys are assholes,” he muttered.

***

“Where are your camping clothes?” Evan asked, rummaging through Vada’s open suitcase.

“What?” she mumbled, burying her head under the pillow.

“The clothes you wore when we went camping. Where are they?”

“I don’t know, Evan,” she sighed. “Why?”

“Because you need them for today.”

She sat up, eyes flashing with anger as she glanced back and forth between us.

“I’m not going camping in the fucking desert,” she warned. “Or anywhere. No more camping. Hotels all the way back to Miami.”

“Relax,” Garrett said. “We aren’t going camping. We decided to spend a few extra days in Vegas. And they let us keep this suite.”

“Then why do I need camping clothes?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said.

“I like surprises,” she said hesitantly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “But only the good kind. Is this something I’m gonna like?”

“Definitely,” I promised, leaning down to steal a kiss.

***

“You’re pretty good at paintball,” I said, huddling next to Vada behind a huge cactus.

“Ozone and his brother own a paintball field. I played every Saturday while we were dating.”

“This Ozone fellow is quite the entrepreneur. He owns a tattoo parlor ~and~ a paintball business?”

“Yep.”

“Can I ask why you guys broke up?”

“He cheated on me.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem surprised by that?”

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered. “And fun. And sweet and caring. You’re ballsy. And funny. And smart. If you didn’t have that mask on, I’d kiss you right now.”

“Wow,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I love you, Vada. And I would never cheat on you.”

“I know. And I love you too. I love all you guys. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

“We’re the ones who are lucky, honey.”

“Enough of that,” Evan grumbled, crawling into our hiding spot. “This is paintball. There’s no place for love declarations in a battle zone. You need to focus all of your energy on surviving.”

“I’m gonna cross over to the other side,” Vada announced. “I think they’re hiding behind that fence. Cover me.”

She crept stealthily across the sand. My gun was ready as I scanned the clearing for any signs of movement.

The ball came out of nowhere, red paint splattering over her lower abdomen.

“You were supposed to be covering her!” Evan hissed as Vada raised her gun in surrender.

“I didn’t see him.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s not a china doll, Evan,” I scoffed. “Vada is a tough woman. She’s played lots of paintball. Does she look hurt?”

“She looks mad.”

“Of course she’s mad! She just got eliminated from the game!”

“It’s your fault,” he muttered.

“Over there,” I whispered, raising my gun when I spotted movement behind a large prickly bush on the far side of the clearing. I waited until I had a clear shot, and I hit him in the shoulder.

The referee appeared, blowing his whistle as he headed toward us.

“What the fuck?!” I yelled. “I didn’t break any rules.”

“One of your teammates in the dead zone is in distress,” he informed us.

“Who?” I asked, dread seeping into my gut.

“The young lady.”

Vada was the only girl on our team. We jumped up, sprinting across the field. She was sitting on a rock, clutching her stomach.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling in front of her.

“I—I’m not sure,” she said. “I was fine after I got hit. But then I had this really bad cramp, and now I’m bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” I wrinkled my brow, scanning her body for injuries.

She pointed between her legs, where a blood stain was spreading across the crotch of her camouflage pants.

“Uh, do you need me to get you some tampons?”

“I think I need to go to the hospital, Jake,” she whispered.

“We can do that, honey.”

“I’m really dizzy. I don’t know if I can walk all the way to the van. I’m losing a lot of blood.”

“I’m calling 911,” Evan said.

I slid my arms under her knees, lifting her carefully as I tried not to look at the blood soaking through her pants.

She was having a miscarriage. But I couldn’t think about the ramifications of that right then. My only concern was the woman in my arms.

The ambulance was waiting in the parking lot. I laid her on the stretcher, holding her hand while the paramedics took her vital signs.

“What happened, Vada?” the female paramedic inquired.

“I got hit in the stomach with a paintball,” she replied weakly. “I was fine at first. I walked to the dead zone, and that’s when I started having cramps and bleeding.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“I didn’t know I was!” she cried. “I never would’ve played if I had any idea!”

“Can I ride with her?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the male paramedic replied. “We don’t allow that unless it’s a child or someone with special needs.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vada said, squeezing my hand.

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll be right behind the ambulance,” I promised.

Evan and Garrett planted kisses on her cheeks.

“We love you, babe,” Garrett said.

“Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart,” Evan whispered.

***

I paced back and forth across the crowded emergency room.

What the fuck was taking so long?

They wouldn’t let us see Vada when we arrived. She was miscarrying one of our babies, and she was all alone. Probably terrified. At least one of us should’ve been with her.

How did this happen?

She was on the pill.

I saw her take them.

She had an alarm on her phone.

She never missed a day.

“I’m getting some answers,” Evan announced. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“I’ll go with you,” I said, following him to the information desk.

An elderly lady wearing glasses on a chain smiled up at us. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Evan replied politely. “Our fiancée was brought in by ambulance over two hours ago. We’d like to see her.”

The old bird blinked, her eyes darting back and forth between us before she reigned in her shock and planted a phony smile on her withered, overpainted lips.

“What is her name?” she requested curtly.

“Vada Collins.”

“Wait here,” she said and pushed up from her chair with a heavy sigh. She returned a moment later, her fake smile replaced by a look of pure disdain. “Come with me.”

She swiped her badge, and the automatic door opened. We followed her to a private room with a glass window. Vada looked so tiny and pale, lying on the stretcher with her eyes closed.

The nurse opened the sliding door and gestured for us to come in. “I’m Angela,” she said with a kind smile. “When Vada told me she had three fiancés, I thought she was hallucinating. But I guess not.”

Vada opened her eyes and smiled sadly when we lined up at her bedside. “Hi,” she whispered.

“How are you feeling, beautiful?” Garrett asked softly.

“I’ve had better days,” she said, her voice catching on a sob. “I killed our baby.”

“You did no such thing,” I said, reaching for her hand.

“I played paintball!”

“You didn’t know you were pregnant,” Evan said.

“I was five weeks pregnant! How could I not know?”

“Have you ever been pregnant before?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then how would you know? You said you don’t get your period very often because of the birth control you’re on.”

“I have a light period every few months. I had one a couple of weeks before we left on the trip. But looking back, the signs were there. And I ignored them and played paintball and killed my baby!”

“What signs?” Evan asked.

“I’ve been really tired this past week, but I thought it was just from being on the road so long,” she explained. “My boobs have been sore. But I’m so stupid, I didn’t clue in.”

“It’s not your fault,” Garrett whispered.

The doctor stepped into the room, sliding the door closed behind her. “Which one of you boys is responsible for this girl?” she demanded, peering at us over her red glasses.

“It’s not 1950,” Evan muttered.

“We’re all responsible,” Garrett said.

“Young man, that is not scientifically possible, and you know it.”

“I don’t know who the father was,” Vada said quietly, staring down at her stomach.

“Fair enough,” she said. “I’m not here to judge.”

“How long do I have to stay here?”

“I usually recommend a D&C after a miscarriage. Especially when it may have been caused by trauma.

“This early in pregnancy, the uterus is protected by the pelvic bone. But given that your symptoms developed immediately after the paintball hit you, I’d conclude that was indeed the cause.”

“What’s a D&C?” Vada asked.

“It’s a minor surgical procedure. I’ll go in and scrape the wall of your uterus, make sure you expelled all the products of conception.”

Evan dropped into the chair in the corner, his face turning a sickly shade of gray.

“You’re bleeding quite heavily,” the doctor continued. “If you don’t have the procedure, it could take a couple of weeks to complete the miscarriage.”

“I don’t want that,” Vada said. “I want to get this done and over with.”

“I’m not feeling too great,” Evan said.

“Get on the floor and put your head between your knees,” the nurse directed, helping him slide out of the chair. “I’ll get you some juice.”

“He has period phobia,” Garrett explained.

“There’s no such thing,” the doctor scoffed.

“How soon can I have this surgery?” Vada asked.

“I prefer to do it under a general anesthetic, so assuming you ate today, we will have to wait six hours.”

“Okay,” Vada agreed. “And how long after that do I have to stay?”

“A few hours.”

The nurse returned and handed Evan a juice box. He accepted it and sucked back the apple juice before attempting to stand.

“Careful, big guy,” the doctor cautioned.

“I’m fine,” he said curtly.

The doctor and nurse exited the room, leaving us alone with Vada. She fiddled with the edge of the sheet, her eyes cast downward as she chewed on her bottom lip.

I glanced at Evan and Garrett. They looked as lost as I felt. We had no idea what to do.

Evan was on the edge. He didn’t like discussions about “female stuff,” or anything related to blood and vaginas. I had no idea how he was going to survive three trips to the delivery room.

And I knew he was torn up with guilt. We all were.

“You guys don’t have to stay here,” Vada said, breaking the awkward silence.

“We want to,” Garrett said. “Unless you want us to leave.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she whispered, her chin trembling.

“Can I sit on the bed with you?” I asked.

“I’d like that, Jake. Will you hold me?”

“Absolutely,” I said, sitting next to her.

Garrett sat on the other side, our arms wrapped around her while she wept softly. Evan perched on the edge by her feet, rubbing her calf through the sheet.

“I’m such a fucked-up mess,” she sobbed. “I never had any desire to have a baby until I held one that night at the reunion. And now I’d give anything to get my baby back. I want my baby!”

“There will be lots of babies,” I whispered. “I know that doesn’t help dull the pain of losing this one right now, but we’re gonna get through this. Together. That’s what marriage is all about.”

“We’re not married,” she said. “We’ll never be legally married.”

“Marriage isn’t about a piece of paper,” Garrett said. “It’s about the commitment and the bond between us. We will be married in every sense of the word.”

“Do you guys still want me?” she asked, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“Of course we do,” I said. “Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Because I killed our baby!”

“You didn’t kill our baby,” Evan said gruffly. “Stop saying that.”

“What if I can’t get pregnant again? What if they have to take out my uterus?”

“Why would they do that?”

“That’s what happened to Mandy.”

“You didn’t get hit by a car, honey,” I said.

“I got hit by a paintball.”

“Those are two very different things,” Garrett said. “The doctor said your uterus is behind your pelvic bone. She doesn’t understand how the paintball even caused you to miscarry.”

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We’ll be here when you wake up. And we’ll take you back to the hotel as soon as they release you.”

“And we’ll pamper you and spoil you rotten,” Garrett added. “Whatever you need, we’ll get it for you, babe. We love you.”

***

I glanced at the clock on the wall for the gazillionth time. The procedure was only supposed to take fifteen minutes.

“They probably didn’t take her in right away,” Evan sighed.

“It’s been over an hour since they took her to the operating room,” I grumbled.

“Remember when you had your appendix removed? How long did you wait after they wheeled you into surgery?”

“Forever,” I muttered.

“Exactly.”

“Whose baby do you think it was?” Garrett asked, voicing the question on all of our minds.

“Garrett!” I hissed.

“What? There’s nobody else in here.”

We were in a small waiting room reserved for families of people in surgery. And it was the middle of the night. Which should’ve meant the operating room wasn’t backed up.

So why the ~fuck~ was it taking so long?

“It was my baby,” Evan stated matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know that,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“I was the first one to have sex with her, Jake.”

“That doesn’t mean you got her pregnant,” Garrett snorted.

“I have powerful swimmers. And Vada is obviously very fertile. I overpowered her birth control.

“Wait until she isn’t on anything. She’ll be popping them out one right after the other. We’ll have an entire football team.”

“How do you know you have powerful sperm?” Garrett asked.

“I had a semen analysis done.”

“I think it was my baby,” I said.

“Based on what?” Evan asked.

“A gut feeling.”

Garrett shook his head in disgust. “Does it really matter whose baby it was?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied. “If they said there was a way to find out, I’d say no.”

“Agreed,” Evan said.

“Yep,” Garrett said. “No point to that.”

“Chris is gonna kick our asses,” I said.

“Why?” Garrett questioned.

“Because we got his little girl pregnant?”

“She’s not a little girl,” Evan snapped. “Please don’t call her that. She’s a grown woman.”

“And she’s our fiancée,” Garrett argued. “He gave us his blessing to be with her. Chris isn’t stupid. He knew we were gonna have sex with her.”

“I don’t see any reason to tell him,” I said. “There’s nothing to be gained by that.”

“Vada might tell him,” Evan said.

The doctor appeared in the doorway in scrubs. “Vada is out of surgery,” she announced. “She’s going to be just fine.”

“She can have more children?” Evan asked.

“Yes. Vada has a very healthy uterus. She should have no trouble conceiving again. But I usually recommend waiting a couple of months. And Vada plans to continue taking her oral contraceptives.”

She narrowed her eyes, giving us a death stare that reminded me of my grandmother. “She needs time to recover, physically and mentally.”

“Of course,” I said.

“No sex for at least two weeks,” she ordered. “And I would like her to see her gynecologist before she resumes sexually activity, to make sure her cervix is closed and the bleeding has stopped.”

“Thank you,” Evan said, raising his hand. “We’ve got it. No sex.”

“She can’t use tampons either. Nothing in the vagina. And she may bleed for up to two weeks. She’ll need a good supply of sanitary pads on hand. And she’ll need to take it easy for a few days.”

“Can we see her?” I asked, hoping to end the bleeding talk before Evan’s head exploded.

“Yes. But she needs her rest. I recommend a quick hello and then go back to your hotel and get some sleep. You can pick her up in the morning.”

We followed the doctor to the recovery room. Vada was awake, offering us a weak smile when we approached the side of her bed.

“Hey, beautiful,” I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she whispered.

“The doctor said your surgery went well.”

She nodded.

“We’re gonna go back to the hotel so you can get some rest,” Evan said. “Is there anything you need us to bring when we come back to get you in the morning?”

“Some clean pants and underwear,” she said quietly. “The ones I came in are covered in blood.”

“We can do that,” I said.

“Thanks.”

“Whatever you need we’ll get for you.”

“I’m really tired,” she sighed. “I’d like to sleep.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” I whispered. “We’ll see you in the morning.”