Chapter 55: Nice Guys Pre-Game In The ER

Adam

This is not how it's supposed to be. I'm supposed to be the one who takes care of Mac, and Babycakes. I'm supposed to be the one standing strong this weekend, supporting her, easing her into my family, making her feel comfortable and secure, proving to her that I'm a responsible guy who has his shit together—a guy whose ready to be a man, with a (some-day) wife, and a kid on the way.

We were supposed to announce Babycakes to a circle of joy, not to a complete clusterfuck.

Apparently, gossip can not be outrun.

Neither can appendicitis.No matter how much I have tried to delay dealing with it, there's no denying that I have an appendix problem. This massive pain in my lower right quadrant and WebMD have pretty much convinced me.

So here I am, lying in the back seat of an SUV with my head in Mac's lap like a sick little boy, gritting my teeth, sweating and shaking, my heart racing, my brain running a million miles a second, barely able to speak through my clenched teeth and my gasped breath.

I feel like an asshole. I'm the direct cause of putting her in contact with one of her PTSD trigggers--cocaine--and I'm about to cause her to confront another—a hospital emergency room. Not to mention all the stress I've put on her, snapping and snarling at my family, defending her like I'm a starving wolf and she's the last meal I'm ever gonna get.

I can't help snarling and snapping. It's been driving me out of my fucking mind, knowing I was going to end up in the hospital at some point this week-end. Knowing that I'm putting her in her weakest place, and leaving her wide open, alone.

What the hell is wrong with me? Raging asshole is not my normal go-to.

Okay, maybe the coke has something to do with my crazed state.

Fuck, that was really dumb, to use cocaine as a pain relief drug.

"Adam. Adam! Oh god, he's not going into some kind of drug shock, is he?" My mother asks Mac, who is soothing my head with a cool cloth. That irritates me, too. Why is she asking Mac? Like I can't speak for myself.

"I can hear you, I'm just ignoring you," I mumble into Mac's lap. I'm spinnin' inside. I grip onto Mac, because holding her is the only thing keeping me from going off right now.

"Adam, if you can hear, then you should respond. Your mother asked you about your pain." Mac's touch is soft, but her words are still acerbic.

"Not much," I say through my clenched jaw and press my face into her belly. Not much physical pain, anyway. Oh god. Oh fuck. I'm so sorry, Baby. I'm not doing a good job for you and your Mama right now.

"That's probably the coke, though. That stuff makes you feel invincible, at first." Leed says amiably from the back seat.

My mother and Mac make the exact same huffing disapproval, and my brain flashes an image of Mac and my mom, both standing over me and shaking their fingers, shouting at me, then huffing scornfully just like that, their tones softening to a gentle scolding that soothes me. A blurry double image, the pleasing sound of their voices in stereo.

Mom and Mac. So much alike.

I jerk. Shit. I feel the need to jump out of this moving car, to get away from that thought.

Goddamn. Coke makes you think crazy shit.

"I'm freaking the fuck out," I mutter, grasping tighter around Mac's waist.

Her fingers partially unbutton my shirt, and she swabs my slick chest with the cool cloth and says, without much heat, "Me too. Questioning all my life choices. Especially getting knocked up by a dumbass."

Everybody in the car chuckles...Mom and Luke upfront, Leed and Trace in the third row. Luke is driving. I think there's a least another truck coming behind with more people, my dad, Brett, Bodie, I don't know who else.

I raise myself up to look at Mac, ignoring the pain in my gut. "Cute, Shortcake. Real cute. Listen—"

"Lie down, Adam."

"No. Listen—when they take me into the ER," I say through clenched teeth, "Just stay in the car. Let Luke bring you home."

"Yeah, okay," Mac's voice is pure sarcasm, but her fingers brushing across my forehead are an angel's touch."He's burning up," she says.

My mother nods. "It's just a few more minutes."

"I'm serious, Mac. I don't want you there."

She rolls her eyes. "I don't give a damn what you want right now, Adam."

I give up arguing with her, because I don't want to push her. I grip the back of the seat, and glare at Leed. "Call John. Tell him to bring two guys," I order.

All of Soundcrush rolling up in the Nashville ER? Bound to cause a stir. But beyond that, I want Mac's guy with her. Like Leed, he's adept at reading her intensity level. If she starts to have a PTSD episode, he'll at least hustle her somewhere private while she tries to cope. Leed loves Mac, but he's got a lot going on lately. John has more focus.

"We got her, man." Leed dislikes the implication that he can't look out for his sister. He's always like this...waving off her security when she's with him. It's all good until they have a brother-sister spat and she stalks off alone. I know how that works...she does it to me, too.

"Trace—is Kat in that other truck?" My words are fast, emphatic, from the cocaine.

"Yeah. Your dad, your sister, Bodie, Kat and Ben and Tam."

"You want Ben spread that thin? On Tam, Kat, and Mac, and the fans and press when they show up?"

"You right." Trace says automatically, and dials his phone. I collapse back into Mac's lap as I hear him talking to John.

"I'm sorry," I murmur again, against her belly, as I tune out to Trace's murmurings.

Mac says nothing, just rakes her hands through my sweat-soaked hair. She's pissed, she's tense, but she loves me anyway, and in her way she's trying to be good to me.

Dawes has beaten us to the ER. When we arrive, for once I'm not hating on the guy, because he's done good for Mac, thinking ahead of even me, when it comes to her security. John and some of our other guys are waiting with him, along with a nurse, ready with a wheelchair. My sister Brett is already hurrying towards us from the second truck. Mac jumps out and makes room for Leed and Trace to exit from behind us. As they prepare to help me out, I waive them off.

"Brett," I gesture to her, and as soon as she comes close enough, I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her up in the truck. "Need you. Mac has PTSD. Hospitals trigger flashbacks of her assault. The smell, I think, is the main thing. I don't know what to do...but I need you...to...do something...help her..."

I don't know what I'm thinking Brett can do, but she's good—really good with people. They call me Preacher, but she's the real spiritualist among the four of us kids. Not like Dad. New-agey. Like Leed and Mac.

Brett cocks her head sympathetically, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Don't worry. I have an idea that might help. Even if it doesn't, she's surrounded by love." Brett grins and eases out of the truck, "Come on, Baby Daddy...we have to get you checked out..."

It's maybe not right, but being a celebrity greases wheels everywhere. We by-pass the chairs, the nurse trying to direct the bulk of our group to a overflow waiting area that looks like it's been cleared just for them, but most of them still lingering close-by my sick ass in the wheel chair. A young, clean-cut,dark-haired doctor that doesn't look any older than Leed meets us at the doors past the registration area.

He looks to Dawes like he's already been briefed, then he focuses on me. "I'm Dr. Thomas, the surgical consult, but you can call me Kade. I'm a big fan," he nods, trying to keep his face professional. "Caught your show last night. Now you're in my ER. Crazy."

I reach out to give him a homie handshake and he grins hugely and claps my hand enthusiastically. "Life is crazy, sometimes. Adam Heartley, nice to meet ya," I nod wearily.

"Adam has appendicitis," Mac says bluntly.

Dr. Call-Me-Kade nods. "Sounds like. From what I've heard so far. Let's take the steps to figure out what's going on for sure."

I nod at the Doc, but my eyes are all for Mac. "Stay out here with Leed, Shorty. Waiting rooms don't bother you, right?"

She looks at Doctor Kade, "Do I look like the type of girl to leave my man when his appendix is about to burst?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, you look pretty fierce to me, Ms. Lawson." He looks around at the large group. "I'm sorry, you can't all come back."

"I'm coming with him," Mac says firmly. I start to argue with her more, but she bends down to my ear. "For better or worse. In sickness and in health."

It's hard to describe the feeling that flows when she says that. Like flying, but being tethered, too. Like we are large and celestial, orbiting one another. Swiftly moving planets, tied together by a larger gravity.

I reach a hand up to her face. "You mean that?"

"You got that ring in your pocket?" she whispers. "I'll prove it."

"Dammit. Gave it to Sawyer to put in my safe back home," I grin.

"Excuses, excuses," she whispers sexily.

The doctor clears his throat, and I recall that I'm most likely in urgent need of surgery, and that making love with words has to wait.

"If Mac says she comes with, she comes with. That means her security guy comes, too." John steps up easily, like he was expecting it. I scan the faces. "And...I need...my sister."

It's hard to say who looks more hurt—my mom or Leed. But they both have plenty of comforting hands drawing them back towards the chairs as the doc leads us to a curtain.

I'm holding Mac's hand as the nurse pushes me, but I feel her steps slowing and her reluctance growing as we enter the "hospital zone."

"Stop!" I command so sharply that the nurse obeys. I ignore the pain, as I twist around to look at Mac. She's looking straight at me, taking deep and slow breaths.

I rub my thumb over her hand. "Come on, girl, you're all in, now. Just going over there," I gesture down the hall to where some personnel look like they are expecting us at the end of a curtained cubicle.

She nods, but she doesn't move. Brett steps up very slowly beside Mac, and pulls off a stretchy beaded bracelet, pressing it into Mac's hand. "Sandalwood," she says. "Do you like the smell? I think it's nice. I use it with a mantra," she suggests.

Mac puts the beads to her nose and breathes slow and long, three times. "Smells nice," she agrees and her slim legs drag forward, as she whispers something under her breath I can't make out.

Five minutes later, Mac is standing beside the exam bed with Brett, their arms linked together. Mac is calm, her hand holding the sandalwood, Brett is whispering some yoga mantra with her. Whatever works.

Mac rubs my shoulder rhythmically while a technician is drawing my blood and starting an IV. The doc runs through my medical history. I see Mac's lips tighten when I answer "had a couple drinks" to the "any alcohol or non-prescription substances" question. Five minutes later the doc is using an ultrasound machine on me—to examine my appendix. Mac and I exchange a smile at the irony.

"Yes," the doc confirms. "Your appendix is definitely enlarged." He turns his head to the nurse and give directions to book a surgical suite. "Good thing you came in when you did. Not sure you would have made it through the night without a rupture. We'll rush through the bloodwork to confirm your diagnosis...and also...to make sure you are...stable for surgery, but my opinion is...we'll have you on the table pulling out your appendix within the hour. It's a laproscopic, outpatient procedure. Usually...healthy patients...we discharge you straight from recovery. If your bloodwork comes back with a typical profile for appendicitis diagnosis, you'll mostly likely be out of here almost as quick as you can play a show," he grins.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Yep," he confirms.

I look at Mac. She looks at little dazed. "Hear that, Shorty? In and Out. Then we'll swing by In and Out for a burger, since we blew dinner." I tease her.

She shakes her head at my bad joke, closes her eyes. "Wrong side of the country, Adam."

"Right. Damn. Forgot." My brain is still on overdrive, working too hard to work properly.

Mac draws in a long sandalwood breath, and her face engages in determination. "Adam, you need to tell the doctor."

I know what she means, but it's not in my mind to do that.

"I'm good, Shorty. It's all good." Really it is. The effects of my dumb mistake are fading fast.

"Adam, they are going to put you under. What if it's not safe?"

Dr. Kade looks between us. "Is there something you left out of your medical history?"

Mac and I engage in a silent war of wills. "Tell him. I need to know you're safe." Her eyes go pure green and liquid, like the ocean, and I'm vanquished.

"Fine. Yeah. I rubbed a little cocaine for pain relief today. Probably you are going to see that on the bloodwork anyway."

The young doctor's face remains stoic as his fingers fly on the keyboard. "Yeah, we will. But it's good for us to know the details of use. Orally, you said?"

I nod. "How much would you estimate?" he asks.

"I dunno, just a dusting on my finger." I shrug. "Less than a line, for sure."

"How many times today?"

"Twice. Once about three-four hours ago, the second time...forty-five minutes ago? I'm already on the downside..."

The doctor nods. "And on a typical day?" he asks casually.

"I don't use cocaine on a typical day," I say testily.

Mac pats my shoulder. "He really doesn't. He needed pain relief. He was trying to delay coming to the hospital until after a big family event."

Dr. Call-Me-Kade grimaces, but keeps typing.

"I know," I say wearily, "I made a dumb decision, but really, I'm not cokehead."

The doctor looks over at me as he finishes his notes. "No, you really don't fit the profile." He pulls a sliding stool up and sits by my bed, looking between me and Mac.

"So, here's the deal. I knew you'd taken something from your pupil reaction to light. I had already ordered a tox screen anyway. Good news is...cocaine typically doesn't pose a conflict with anesthesia, since it's a quickly metabolized substance. I suspect you already know that taking it orally has milder, but longer lasting effects?"

Of course I know that. That's why I rubbed it, instead of snorting. I wasn't looking for a hard high, just a little relief.

"So you are looking at about a ninety minute window of effect. We're going to get a cardiac monitor on you, and we'll wait for your cardiac output to stabilize, but since you're a healthy person without a history of abuse, you aren't looking at any increased risks from the anesthesia. Basically, all you did was bought yourself an couple of extra tests and a little longer wait time."

I close my eyes. He's not entirely accurate. "Thanks, I appreciate your reassurance. But I bought myself a hassle with my sponsors and label, actually. Our team will have to work overtime to keep this out of the press."

Dr.Call-Me-Kade frowns. "Your records and the staff are bound by privacy laws. It's not illegal to be high, it's just to illegal to possess. You aren't carrying a boatload of coke on your person, with the intent to distribute, are you?"

"Oh no!" Brett answers for me cheerfully. "He just had a tiny vial. We flushed it. Right away."

Dr Call-Me-Kade grins. "And you clearly aren't a danger, so there's no reason to involve authorities. I don't see how keeping this confidential is a problem."

Mac smiles at him, and explains. "Somewhere, somehow, someone will call in a tip to make a few hundred bucks. All it takes is a transporter, a lab tech, a candy striper with good ears walking by, and tomorrow there will be an outrageous story about Madam with a grain of truth about Adam's dumb mistake. And a thousand more media people will be on our back and our sponsors will be on our nerves. But it can't be helped. Thank you very much for all you are doing." She turns to my sister. " Brett, will you please go tell Dawes to put Marcy on High Alert? They'll both know exactly what that means..."

Brett nods, but she looks at me before moving. "Shorty," I rub Mac's arm, "You sure you don't want to take five and talk to Dawes yourself?"

She grips the rail on the side of my bed. "I'm not leaving you, Adam. You're stuck here dealing with appendicitis, and so I'm stuck here dealing with a little anxiety," she shrugs and shoots the doctor a sideways look. "Hospitals make me nervous."

He smiles at her compassionately. "A lot of people feel that way, for various reasons." He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a packet of gum. It's not a familiar brand. He offers a piece to Mac. " Chewing gum is great for anxiety relief, as is peppermint. I get this kind from a local health food store."

"Huh," she says, accepting the gum as Brett slips from the curtain to return to the group. "It's...just peppermint? It's...safe? I mean..." she hesitates. Her hand moves almost to her stomach, but then she stops and grips the bed rail again. "It's like, all natural, I mean?"

Dr. Call-Me-Kade is a sharp guy. I guess doctors are good at seeing what people don't say. His eyes dart immediately to Mac's midsection and then just as quickly back to her face. "Nothing to worry about, like that. Just peppermint and gum. I give it to little kids all the time," he grins. "And sometimes their nervous parents."

A technician rolls a cart with equipment and wires into the cubicle. Dr. Call-Me-Kade rises off the stool. "So...here's Laura to get your heart monitor going. The cardiac consult will let me know if there's a problem, but I don't expect one. You guys hang tight while we wait on those labs. I've got about a couple more consults to make, and most likely the next time you will see me is going to be in the outpatient surgical suite, ok?" He claps hands with me. Then he reaches across to Mac. "Don't worry. He's gonna be just fine. I'll see you after, Ms. Lawson?"

A few minutes later, the heart monitor is hooked up, and Mac and I are alone. She lets down the bed rail and sits beside me on the bed. I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers loosely in hers. Nothing—not drama, not trauma—has dampened her beauty or composure. She's an angel, sent to comfort me.

"I'm not even going to ask you again if you are okay," I say. "Because I can see in your eyes that you're good."

She nods. "I'm fine." She touches my face. "You're going to be fine," she says softly.

"I know," I do know. I reach out, twirl one of her pretty curls around my finger. "Still mad at me?"

Mac's delicate features pinch in indecision. She nods slowly. "Yeah, kind of. What you did was stupid. People can die from their appendix rupturing, Adam. And it annoys me that ignored your own health because you think I need...protecting, or something. Like I'm weak. Like I can't take care of myself."

"Don't think that," I shake my head. "Not at all. Didn't I just say I know you're good?"

She eyes me with her killer stare. "Yeah. Now. Because I'm pissed."

I shrug, trying to shirk off my own crawling irritation. "Maybe. I dunno. I just know...you're mine, Shorty. You and Babycakes. Mine to take care of. I wanted at least a few hours of the day with my family to go well for you. I was trying to give us—give you—that. Yeah, I messed it up. Probably gonna mess up other shit sometimes, too, because I'm just a guy, learning to love you right. Doesn't mean I don't love you with everything I am—all the best parts, and all the imperfect parts, too."

Mac pales slightly. "I hate it when you say those wonderful things."

I grin, and pull her hand to my lips, kissing her finger knuckles. "No, you don't."

She reaches out and tugs softly at my hair. "Shut-up."

We sit in silence for awhile. Finally I say, "Can't believe my family, and the guys. What the fuck? You'd think one asshole among them would have had the balls to ask us, instead of jumping to conclusions."

"Yeah, Trace, right?"

"Exactly," I agree and we laugh.

I tug at her fingers, flexing them, cracking them gently in the way she sometimes does to relieve stress. "You were fucking awesome, by the way. Totally bad-ass."

Mac groans and covers her face with her free hand. "Oh god, your family probably—"

"Is all up to date on Adam's diagnosis, thanks to Brett's report just now," My dad says behind her as he and my mom step into the curtain area. Mac jumps and rises off the bed. My dad comes over and embraces her. "We are all embarrassed that we jumped to conclusions about your pregnancy, MacKenna. We are all so happy for you and Adam. And, we are also looking forward to getting to know our two newest family members," he winks at her.

"Thank you," she beams with that sweet smile of hers.

"Hey, don't be cheesin' at the Rev, like that." I tease her. "Those sweet smiles are all for me."

Mac laughs and my mother swats my foot. "Hush, son. You are still in trouble. Don't try to charm your way out." My mother exchanges places with my dad, hugging Mac, too. "I'm thrilled you and Adam are happily expecting. We are all. It's a quite a surprise, though, isn't it?" My mother looks from Mac to me. There's happiness in her smile, but the linger of worry in her eyes.

"It was, at first," I agree, sitting up in the bed slightly and readjusting all the lines attached to me. "Which is why we took a little time to get used to the idea. There's a lot we have to feel our way through, you know?"

My mom nods quickly. "Of course. Those are all things we can talk about later. You know we will all help in any way we can. I'm sure it will be a big change for you both, moving to Nashville to have the baby..."

Mac and I exchange a surprised look. We didn't actually say, moving to Nashville. That's a bit of leap on my mom's part.

The heart rate on my monitor picks up slightly, and my mother's eyes shoot to it. "Mom...I'm not sure moving to Nashville is the right way to phrase it. Staying in Nashville temporarily might be the better way to think of it."

"Well, I'm sure we can talk about all that later, but I guess I just assumed that you and Mac would want to look for a home of your own, nearby? Something you would want to keep? It's not unusual, is it? For celebrities to keep multiple residences?" She looks between us, expectantly.

I scratch my beard. "We haven't really talked about getting a permanent place, exactly. I guess we'll be here for...I don't know...awhile? What do you think, Shorty?" I look at Mac, helplessly. Her eyes are wide and she's giving me a don't-you-dare-throw-me-under-the-bus glare.

She takes pity on me, since my heart rate is not slowly. "I think what Adam is trying to say is...we've got a lot to sort through with the band before we can even begin to think about how long we might be in Nashville when the baby is born. The tour, you know. It's going to be a tricky thing. We wrap up just before Thanksgiving in the US and we have a winter holiday, but we're supposed to be in Europe all spring and part of the summer. I'm not sure how much time I'll take off from work, from the tour."

"Well, Europe just seems...out of the question, dear" my mom blurts.

"Thank you!" I slap a hand down on the bed rail. "That's exactly what I said."

"Well, I didn't realize being pregnant with Heartley Spawn makes my choices subject to Heartley group decision," Mac snaps.

My dad chuckles. "Heartley Spawn. Like that one."

Mac rolls her eyes at him, but the smile she gives him is still sweet.

"I'm so sorry. I don't mean it to express my opinion so strongly," my mom says.

"I do," I interject.

"Be quiet, Adam," my mother snaps. "You aren't helping here." She takes a deep breath. "I only meant...it seems like there might be...difficulties...touring during an advanced pregnancy...or with a newborn. But you are right, dear, your career decisions are your own, not mine, nor Adam's."

"She's just used to giving her daughters a lot of advice," my dad says, a little sarcastically.

My mom shrugs. "To be fair, my sons-in-law, too."

"Do they always take it?" Mac asks with a raised eyebrow and another sweet smile.

I snort, "Not by a long shot."

My mother smiles at Mac but speaks to me. "You really shouldn't do drugs, dear. It makes you slow. I believe that was another rhetorical question that didn't need an answer."

"Oh, yeah, missed that one," I mutter. Actually, I am pitching downward into that post-high-brain-slump. I lay my head back against the pillow and put the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, trying to focus.

Mac picks up on my spiraling energy at once. "I think Adam needs to some rest."

"That's too bad, because we came to pre-game his surgery," Trace quips as he pops his head in the curtain. He slides in carrying a tray of small coffee cups and Leed and Bodie file in behind him, with a nurse hot on Bodie's heels. "You can't all be back here."

"It's all good, Baby. We know how act in a hospital," Bodie tells her, as he picks up the paddles on the crash cart and pretends to resuscitate Leed.

"Clearly," my dad says with a chuckle. "Come on MJ. I'm sure nothing will prepare Adam better for surgery than a few minutes with his chosen family," he claps my shoulder. "We're all praying for a smooth procedure, son...and to be home by breakfast," he winks.

I laugh. My mother hugs me tightly and tells me she loves me, then they are gone. Soundcrush stands in silence.

Bodie drapes an arm around the nurse who is checking my IV and heart monitor. "Baby, can you give us the room? Band business, you know."

The nurse just mutters. "Celebrities," and swats the curtain in frustration as she stomps out.

"You little bitch," Trace says to me, with a grin. "You let me think Mac wasn't pregnant, after you confided in me about the damn condom breaking. That ain't living the bro-code, man."

"It's not his fault," Mac says quickly. "I wasn't ready."

Leed sits down on the doctor's stool and rolls over in front of Mac, taking her hands in his. "Macaroni? You are sure this is what you want? If you're not ready..."

She smoothes Leed's hair. "Leed, I wasn't ready to tell you guys. I needed the time...for me and Adam. For us to..." she searches for the right word. "For us to start thinking like a couple. But I chose this. I want this. I could have taken emergency contraception—Adam and I talked about it a lot. I didn't take it. And then...there for a minute I thought I wasn't pregnant, and I was really sad. When we finally took the test and I found out, I was so happy. It's all good, Leed. I promise."

Leed laughs and twirls around on the stool, then grabs Mac by the hips and shouts into her belly, "Hellloooooooo, Kiidddooooo! It's your Uncle Leed! Can you hear me in there? Hellooooooooo!?!?!?"

"Leed, shut-up!" Mac and Trace yell at once.

The playful mood fades as the tension descends. "Shit," Leed murmurs, looking between Trace and Mac apologetically. "Wasn't thinking. You're right. Down-low situation."

She just nods absently, patting his head. She and Trace are staring at each other now. He hands off the coffees to Bodie and moves toward Mac, pulling her by the arms to look at him. "I know what you are thinking. You are thinking about all that shit I said on the balcony that day. About how you getting pregnant would be a disaster for us. So let me say this as plain as I can...fuck what I said. I was being an idiot, talking a bunch of shit. Now we are talking about an actual baby, that is half you and half Adam. A tiny being made up of two of my best friends. No way is my head thinking your baby a disaster. Your baby is like...my best friend, squared," he grins. "If you and Adam are in love with this baby, then nobody's happier about this kid than me."

"You are so wrong," Leed zips around the room on the stool, pushing off from walls like an pinball. "Obviously, I'm happier." Then he lowers his voice to the murmur register. "I mean, this kid is my nephew."

"I dunno," Bodie says thoughtfully, as he shoves the coffee tray back into Trace's hands. "Leed, you got your own kid to be happy about. Trace, you've got Kat putting you over the moon. I'm in a dry spell lately. I'm claiming dibs on all godparenting of all Soundcrush kids. So you two cats back the fuck off my clearly superior happiness." He pulls Mac away from Trace and picks her up, pulling her right off her feet as he bounces her up and down, his hands thougtfully gripping her thighs and not her ass.

"Bodie, put me down!" Mac gasps.

"I'm playing with the little guy!" he laughs at her.

"I'm gonna throw up on on your head," she warns.

"Awwww, hell naw," he drops her lightly down her toes.

I'm gripping my side and laughing at my friends, lovin' on my girl—our girl, really. Mac is glowing now, and it's part Babycakes and partly from their affection and acceptance. I've never seen her look so comfortable in her own skin. She climbs gently onto the bed beside me and kisses me softly. "Want me to tell these asshats to leave so you can rest?"

I shake my head. My dad is right. My boys are the best kind of medicine.

"Naw," Trace is telling her. "We haven't done our pre-surgery toast yet." He's passing around the small cups of espresso. "Don't worry, Mac, yours is Matcha, not espresso."

We hold our cups out and Trace says, "Here's to Adam's appendix. May the angry little fucker rest in pieces."

"To Adam's appendix," they all repeat, dutifully, and we drink. My cup is not what I'm expecting. Mac spits hers out.

"Fuck! This is whiskey!"

"Oh, sorry," Trace says quickly, switching my cup for hers.

"Adam shouldn't be drinking! You said it was espresso!" Mac hisses.

"I lied," Trace grins. "Man's going under the knife, he needs a little liquid courage. The coke's warn off by now."

I gulp down my shot before Mac can snatch my cup away.

The transporter comes to wheel me to the surgical suite and Mac and I exchange a long, sweet kiss. No tears on her part. My god, my girl is so fierce.

"I love you. We love you," she whispers in my ear.

"I love you, too. Be back in a few minutes," I tell her softly and then, I'm rolling down the hall. I hear the guys joking with her as they all envelop her, and pulling her back into the waiting room and into their comforting care.

The doc comes into the surgical room after I'm mostly prepped. He gives a little speech about the procedure as he holds his gloved hands up and the anesthesiologist hovers nearby, ready to put me out.

"Listen," I say when he's done, gesturing him down to my ear where only he can hear. "I'm trusting you with a big secret here, but I really need you to make sure this thing doesn't go sideways, okay? I've got a kid on the way."

Dr. Call-Me-Kade grins. "Congratulations! I kinda got that vibe earlier. No worries, man. This is a simple procedure, but I'm all over it like a heart transplant. Soundcrush is one of my favorites. No way am I gonna be the guy responsible for breaking up the band."

"Cool. We get through this, I'm gonna hook you up, alright?"

"Holding you to that," he nods as someone puts his mask on him, "Do me a favor man, and start counting backwards from ten, okay?"

I nod, counting as I feel the heat of the anesthesia spreading up my arm from the IV. I don't remember getting past six.

The next thing I know,I'm walking through an oddly familiar field, except I can place it now—it's a parcel of my family's land— on the opposite side of the cove from the main farm—not great for farming and unused for much of anything. Right now, it's being used for a sunset stroll. I look up and see my three or four year old daughter riding on my shoulders, and this time I can hear her sweet giggle in my ears as I roll my shoulders and sway her. Mac is ahead of me, a baby boy on her hip. He's grinning—toothless-at me, and squeezing his hand in that first awkward, adorable, baby-wave motion.

Mac flips around, walking backwards, calling to me, taunting me a little with a sexy wink.

Her locks lit by a blazing sunset. Her eyes emerald shine. Her smile so pure it makes my heart run wildly toward her.

Her beauty astounds. It's so...real. They are all...so real.

I blink and swallow. Close my eyes again. I know they aren't here yet, but I want them back, just for a few more minutes.

"Mr. Heartley? Come on back. Welcome back. Open your eyes for me," a prodding voice is saying.

I open my eyes and murmur. "Oh yeah. Definitely a girl. Then a boy."

"Still a little groggy, I see" says a nurse, patting my arm. "How do you feel?"

I laugh, a little hoarsely, but I could care less about the dryness of my throat. "I feel fantastic." I assure her.

It's true. Everything's coming right and I have never felt happier in my whole life.

Whew!!!! Anyone else glad that Adam made it through his appendectomy ok? I sure am. Now it seems like everything is going Madam's way, at least when it comes to the band and family reactions!!! Do you think it's smooth sailing for them from here on out? Or are there potential troubles lurking ahead? Thoughts?

Please comment/vote/list/follow if you are enjoying our Soundcrush Saga! Thanks!