Page 61 of Falling for the Orc All-Star

“We wouldn’t let them hurt her. But if it’s a question of what would help her... I don’t know. I don’t know. Come on, hand me my crutches, we’ll go sit with them.” King says.

“But your leg. Aren’t you supposed to—”

“I can soak in a hot tub some other time. Kevin’s a good friend. A much better friend than I’ve been to him.”

I nod, rising, realizing that I now look like I’ve been out in a very specific rain storm, bands of wetness on my scrubs at the knees, the chest, the back, and now my butt as I maneuver back to my feet. “Marina and I have been getting closer, too. When we went to Madge’s the other day, it was... It was like having a real friend again. Like when you’re teenagers and you giggle and shop and whisper?”

King nods. “I get it. She’s like that. She’s full of life, and when she’s with Kevin—”

“They shine.”

“They shine.”

When I’m with King, I wonder if I shine? My heart twinkles, and that’s probably en route to shining, right?

“Let me get towels. Take it easy. I— Oh, hell.” I slip getting a towel from the sterile white shelving unit in the corner, startled by a loud cry of “What’s up, Doc?”

“That’s the ringtone I use for Kev. I’ve been sitting around on my butt a lot more than usual,” King explains as I retrieve the phone.

I answer the phone, holding my breath.

“King? Ingrid?”

“We’re here!” King shouts. I hurry back, towel and phone outstretched. “Are you okay? What happened to Marina?”

Kev’s voice is odd. Grave, but like he’s happy, too. Like he’s going to pop if he doesn’t tell someone something.

“Marina fell and hit her head. Fainted. She was hungry.”

I look at King. Does that mean she isn’t getting enough sex? I want to ask, but I’ll have to hold off. “Sorry to hear that.”

“And when she was on the floor, one of the moms in the Mommy and Me Swim Class found her and realized there was blood on the tile. A good amount of blood. So. That was scary.”

King looks at me, stricken. “Oh, God, Kev. From her head?”

“No. From a subchorionic hemorrhage."

“Hemorrhage?” I gasp.

Wait. My brain ticks back over thousands of pages of nursing notes.

“I’m getting dressed. We’ll be right there. Hey, oh, God, hey, I’ll set up that meal train thing!” King sounds distracted and distressed, and it’s only when I put my hand on his arm that he stops frantically trying to maneuver his wet body up on one leg. He looks up at me.

I wait for Kev to say it.

“That might be good, because Marina needs to be off from work for a few weeks. Maybe months.”

“What caused it, do they know?” King asks, looking between me and the phone.

“Yep. Pregnancy. Ultrasound already confirmed that there’s a separation between the uterine wall and the placenta, probably caused by strain. Marina helped someone at senior swim get out of the pool, probably lifted too much, too fast. Plus—not eating enough.”

King and I exchange a look. “Would a meal train help, or does she need... Other food?”

“The meal train would have to be for Kevin and our daughter,” Marina’s voice, tired but ecstatic, crackles over the speaker. “I’m eating for two, and one of us is half-human. I don’t always remember to eat regular meals, so baby has been missing nutrients.”

“They’ll probably put you on bed rest and progesterone for a while. Get your nutrition. I’ll bring over dinner for you guys tonight.” I don’t want to hear the intimate details right this second.

“Daughter? How far along are you? They can see it’s a girl?” King asks in awe.