Page 66 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)
Chapter Forty-Nine
EVA
“ I can’t believe you made me look presentable,” I say to Ashleigh as I look in the mirror she’s set up on the rolling table that goes over my bed.
I’ve been stuck in this hospital room for a week, eating every meal in bed and watching more movies and TV shows than I’ve ever watched in my life. Since I’m only allowed to leave my bed to go to the bathroom, there’s not much else to do unless I have visitors.
I’d feel like climbing the walls, if only I had the energy.
The great news is, we’ve made it to thirty-four weeks and the baby’s lungs are now strong enough that she should be able to breathe on her own once she’s born.
Every additional day that passes before delivery will just make her stronger.
As much as I don’t want to be tethered to this bed, constantly poked and prodded and monitored, I do want our baby to be healthy.
Ashleigh’s chuckle is soft as she runs a comb through the curls she created in my hair half an hour ago before encouraging me to do my makeup. She suggested that getting myself ready, like I was going on a date with Luke, might help me feel better. She was right.
“You’re funny. Or blind,” she says. I glance at her in the mirror, and when we lock eyes, she asks, “Has pregnancy affected your brain? Because you’re just as gorgeous now as you were before!”
My laugh comes out like a snort. “I haven’t had a proper shower in a week,” I say, thinking about the one three-minute shower they let me have a couple of days ago.
Other than that, Luke’s been giving me baths in my bed with a warm washcloth.
“I feel...I don’t even know...enormous, and greasy, and gross. ”
“Well, I hope I’m just as enormous, greasy, and gross as you when I’m pregnant,” she says with a smile.
“I do feel better now that my hair is done, I’ve got a little makeup on, and I’m in real clothes.
” I look down at the incredibly luxe pajama set Luke brought me yesterday after confirming with the nurses that I could wear something other than a hospital gown.
The pale blue pants and tank top are the softest cashmere knit, and I have a feeling I’ll be living in them even after the baby is born because the top has a built-in nursing bra and it came with matching shorts.
“I’m glad I could help,” she says as she takes the curling iron that’s been sitting on the windowsill to cool and wraps the cord around it before sticking it in her bag.
“What else are you up to today?” I ask, suddenly feeling sad that I’m stuck inside on a gorgeous August day.
She’s probably got fun Sunday plans, and even though I know I’m exactly where I need to be—and damn lucky that Baby Squash and my blood pressure are both doing okay—I’m still feeling a little sorry for myself.
Hopefully, Luke will be back soon to keep me company.
Ashleigh glances at her phone screen when it lights up with a text. “Not much, actually,” she says. “Thought I’d hang out with you for a while, if that’s okay?”
Just then, there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call out, wishing that the nurses didn’t have to check on me quite so often.
It’s not so bad during the day, but being woken up every couple hours at night is taking its toll.
Everyone keeps saying, “It’s good practice for when the baby comes.
” And while it’s true that I’ll be sleep deprived once she arrives, I can’t help but wish that I could enter parenthood well rested.
I glance over at the alcove where the door is, but instead of the nurse, Jules, Audrey, Morgan, AJ, and Lauren walk in. My jaw drops, and when I get over my shock, I ask, “What are you all doing here?”
They’ve each visited me individually over this past week, except Jules, who just got back from Bali. Those visits, combined with Luke being here almost non-stop, means I’ve rarely been alone. But I wasn’t expecting to see any, much less all , of my friends today.
“We come bearing gifts,” Lauren says, and it’s then that I notice she’s pulling a collapsible wagon behind her, and it’s loaded with wrapped presents.
My eyes tear up, but I take a deep breath, trying to not ruin the makeup Ashleigh just encouraged me to apply. That’s when I realize that this whole “helping me get ready” thing was in anticipation of my friends arriving. With baby gifts. “Is this...?”
“Your baby shower?” Morgan finishes. “Yes. ”
“Well, a small one, anyway,” Audrey says.
“You’ll probably want something bigger, with both your families and all your friends, once she’s born,” Morgan says. “But for now, you get us.”
“No, this is perfect actually,” I say with a laugh as my friends crowd into the room.
Even though I have a really nice private room, complete with a couch that Luke has slept on more than once, it is pretty small.
Fortunately, because I’m on a higher floor, I have a good view of Boston out the large window.
I guess if I can’t be outside, the ability to see outside is the next best thing. “This is the only baby shower I need.”
I glance around the room at these women who have formed a tight-knit family, regardless of biological or marriage ties, and I’m so thankful that they’re bringing me into the fold. The tears that were threatening to fall a moment ago start to slide down my face.
“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Ashleigh asks. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m happy,” I say with a teary smile.
At the same time, Audrey and Lauren both say, “She’s pregnant.”
“All of that is true.” I can’t help but laugh. And then I eye the cart with the gifts and notice a bakery box. “Please tell me you snuck in some cake? This low-salt diet they have me on to help with my blood pressure, and the hospital food in general, sucks so much. I could use something tasty.”
“We didn’t sneak it in,” Lauren says. “We got the menu approved by your doctor.”
That has more tears spilling down my face because of the lengths they went through to plan this. “Well, anything is going to be better than what they’re serving me here.”
The girls set to work unloading the gifts and food from the wagon, and pretty soon, we’ve got plates piled high with veggies and hummus, a variety of cheeses, deviled eggs, gruyere and filet sliders, and the cutest little dessert cups of whipped coconut cream and berries, and dark chocolate cheesecake bites on the side.
Everything is healthy, low-salt, and delicious!
I’ve never appreciated food more than I appreciate this meal, and when I tell my friends that, Audrey raves about Jules’s cooking. “She can make anything taste good!”
“I know nothing about cooking,” I admit, and tell my friends about how I’ve had a personal chef my entire adult life.
“I’m happy to teach you the basics, once you’re up to it,” Jules offers. “A couple quick cooking lessons might be a good distraction from early motherhood?”
“That would be amazing,” I say.
“My kitchen is fully set up for cooking with a baby, from when Graham was little,” she says. “I still have all the baby stuff in storage in the basement. Until Audrey needs it again.” She gives her sister a meaningful look that makes me wonder if Audrey’s expecting...or will be soon.
“Something you want to tell us?” AJ asks.
Audrey laughs. “No, not yet. But Drew’s determined to have like six kids, so we’ll probably start trying soon-ish.”
I laugh to myself, wondering if all hockey players want big families.
“Are you going to start trying before you get married?” Lauren asks. “Is that why you haven’t set a date? ”
“We’ve only been engaged for a few months,” Audrey says.
“That’s why we haven’t set a date. But yeah, if I get pregnant soon, we’ll probably push the wedding off.
I don’t want to be pregnant when I get married.
” Her hand flies to her mouth, and she looks at me, wide-eyed, before her cheeks pinken. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean...”
Shaking my head, I just laugh. “No worries at all. Your situation is different, and not being a pregnant bride makes perfect sense! We didn’t plan for things to happen the way they have.” In so many ways, that’s true, yet I wouldn’t change a thing because I ended up with Luke.
“You could always go to the courthouse and get married there,” Lauren says. “Then have the wedding celebration later.”
Audrey nods, like she’s considering the idea. “Maybe.”
“Speaking of weddings and babies,” Morgan says, “maybe we should let Eva open her gifts?”
And for the next hour, that’s what I do.
Slowly—between meaningful conversations—I open the most thoughtful gifts I can imagine.
Things I never knew I needed, but that the moms in the group swear they couldn’t have lived without, and some of the necessities I did know I needed but had thought I’d have longer to procure.
Surrounded by my friends, I take a moment to appreciate how truly lucky I am.
Not only have I made new friends in Boston, but Luke has made sure Hans will never reappear in our lives.
Only a week after coming to the hospital, my blood pressure is under control, and Baby Squash is healthy and still developing, both of which seem truly miraculous given how dire the situation sounded when we first got here.
We’re taking a group picture when there’s another knock on the door. Assuming it’s the nurse, I marvel at how quickly these past few hours have flown by with my friends.
But as the door opens fully, I get my second big surprise of the day when I see my mom, rather than the nurse, walking into my room.
She pauses in the doorway, and for a moment we just stare at each other. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her hand flying to her chest. “I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll come back later.”