Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
"Do you have children? I will pay for their college tuitions. Grad school. Med school. Their weddings. You name it," I told him, pulling away, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes the relief was so acute.
"That won't be necessary," he assured me. "I am just doing my job."
"Can I see her?" I asked.
"She is being moved to the ICU. Once she is settled, you can visit with her."
"The ICU doesn't sound like she is fine," Alvy insisted, thinking more clearly than I was at the moment.
"It's standard after a surgery like hers. I suspect she will move onto a main floor before the night is out."
With that, the doctor walked away, leaving me so weak that I collapsed down into a chair, taking my first real breath in half a day.
"Alvy."
"Yes?" they asked, sitting down beside me.
"We need to set up some sort of charity," I decided. "Helping pay for med school."
"I will look into it," they assured me, patting my shoulder. "She's okay," they reminded me.
"She has to be," I told them.
"She is. And you will get to see her in a little bit."
Forty minutes later, I was led into her room, finding her in one of the hospital beds, looking way too small, way too pale, way too weak for the Wasp I knew and loved.
I'd never seen the woman look weak a day in her life.
She'd gone into labor like she was going to war, screaming, cursing, barking orders.
Seeing her look that way made a piercing sensation stab my chest as I moved toward her bedside.
"Oh my God, Fenway. I'm not dead," she grumbled up at me as I sat on the side of her bed, reaching for her hand, feeling the tears that had been in my eyes before break free.
"I worried you might be," I admitted. "I couldn't have lived with that. Not for a minute. You're not allowed to die first, darling. I forbid it."
"I heard you were offering out random organs to save me," she said, giving me a soft smile.
"Not random ones. Just the ones you might need."
"Luckily, that wasn't necessary," she said, sighing. "Wanda is dead. Like dead for real."
"I heard. I'm sorry, darling."
"It feels like the end of an era. Even though I hadn't used her since we got together."
"There were a lot of good memories there," I said, giving her hand a squeeze. We had the pictures on a gallery wall, all her favorites from her adventures with Raven. Across from that were her favorites with me. Then with both of us and Bee.
"How is Raven?"
"Just a little banged up. She's already on her way home. She wanted to stay," I told her. "Roman nearly had to have her sedated to get her to leave you. But her kids were worried."
"Thank God she's alright. The other driver?"
"No injuries."
"Where is Bee?"
"With your sister-in-law. Your brothers are here. But they are downstairs. They couldn't come up to this floor."
"Everyone's all shaken up over a little nothing."
"It's hardly nothing. And, yes, we were all worked up. You have a lot of people who love you, darling," I reminded her.
"What is that smile for?" she asked a moment later. "What's so funny?" she pressed when a chuckle escaped me.
"I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Your old lady driving. I think it saved your life today."
"So maybe you can stop teasing me about it."
"I guess I can do that."
"Don't look so sad. I'm sure you can find something else to tease me about."
"Like the fact that you're now part cyborg?" I suggested, touching her arm.
"That will do," she agreed, reaching out with her good arm to pat my head.
Wasp - 20 years
"How dare she grow up to be so damn practical," Fenway grumbled, tapping his fingers on the kitchen table beside his coffee cup.
"I know you tried your hardest to make her into a spoiled socialite with cotton candy for brains," I told him, smiling. "Somehow, someone imparted some good sense in her."
"I will never forgive you for it," he told me, giving me small eyes.
Bee was leaving for college.
And Fenway was having separation anxiety about the whole situation.
I couldn't blame him. She'd always been his little baby. And a daddy's girl. The two were as close as could be.
"She is just going away to school," I reminded him, patting his hand.
"She doesn't have to go to school. She could be like one of those people who are famous for no other reason than being rich," he insisted.
"Even if she did want to live the shallow socialite life, Fenway, she would want to leave home. I don't know about you, but I would much rather she go off to school to become a neurosurgeon than party all across the globe, getting up to no good."
Bee had, as it turns out, become nothing like either of us.