The Everlark Family: Book 3

Chapter 37 Hope

Bree's POV
I had to stay in the hospital for another day. The pain killers help, only slightly, the rest isn't worth helping..
I had to stay home for two months. I wish I could go back, but the pain limits me from a lot. It's not severe anymore, although it was gotten higher the last couple days--it's been a week in total.
Rye still has to go to work of course. He said to take it easy and rest all day. So I slept all day until he came home. I could barely get up most of the time; if I do it's awful pain. Although I always have to use the bathroom.
My stomach looks like it should be eight months, not five.. It worries me, I don't know what that means..
Still scared and worried about the baby--what if he or she dies? I can't get over that subject. I know it's bad to worry, but I can't help it.. Its the reason why pain throbs at my back and stomach. It's all because of the babies death. I just hope and pray that'll be a mistake.. Like Rye said, be positive and hope for a miracle. It's harder for me, I'm not as positive as Rye.

It's around 7:30, Rye gets off at eight. I patiently wait for him to unlock the door. Thinking to myself only thirty more minutes. Laying there, needing to get up, but giving into what my body wants--I stay down.
(thirty minutes later)
I hear the door creak open. I look out of the bedroom door, its Rye. I only see half of him, he's tiptoeing.
"You don't have to tiptoe.. I'm awake." I say smiling. Rye walks in half way, "Oh I thought you were sleeping"
I nod, "I figured"
"Did you get any sleep?" he takes his uniform off in front of me. I nod, "Lots.. Its so boring."
He laughs, "I bet, if I were you I'd be going crazy out of boredom." he looks back to assure I heard him, "You alright?"
My forehead starts to burn all of the sudden, "I have a fever too" I sigh.
"You do?" he asks alarmed, "But the doctor said you can't get sick."
I shrug. Everything seems to be getting worse. Now I have a fever. I sigh, thinking of all the disasters that could happen. Rye feels my forehead, "Maybe some medicine"
I shake my head, "No its fine. The doctor said I shouldn't have to much medicine."
Rye shrugs, "It would help-"
I cut him off, "Its fine, thank you."
Rye rolls his eyes at my stubbornness, "Can you walk?"
I try moving my legs. Sharp spurts of pain limit me from even moving my legs, "N-no.. Can you get me the shot?"
He walks and reaches for the shot on the drawer. He holds it out gesturing for my approval. I nod. He walks closer to the bedside, "Me or you?"
I hold my arm out, "If you want to."
"Needles creep me out" he laughs. I smile, "I big guy like you, afraid of a tiny needle?"
His laugh stops, "Thats messed up Bree."
We smile at each other, I wish I could kiss him.
I trust Rye to inject me properly. I tell him where to inject me with it. He nods, "I got this"
I nod, "C'mon"
He slowly injects the needle into my skin wincing, "Like this?"
I nod, "Now take it out quickly" and he does. I smile, "Good"
He sighs, relieved and astonished by what he just did. Now half the pain should go away for now. Out of know where Ryes stomach growls, "I haven't eaten anything today."
"I'll make something.." I say. Rye holds me down, "No Bree, I'll make something-"
"But Rye" I interrupt, "You're not exactly experienced in-"
"Its cooking, its not harder then flying a plane.. What would you like?" he interrupts. I sigh, "Whatever you'd like to make me" I smile. He nods and walks out.

Ryes POV
I walk into the kitchen and grab four thick slices of sourdough bread, one tomato, lettuce, provolone cheese, and chicken. I'm trying to make a sandwich like dad did--of course I could never cook with dads amount of love he puts into it, but at least I'm trying. Bree doesn't like to much tomato so I cut a thin piece for her, meanwhile I use almost half of the tomato for just one slice.
I turn the oven on. Lay the cheese on the chicken and slide it into the oven. For once I've actually cooked with confidence like this. I'm so eager to eat, I even eat some lettuce waiting for the chicken to cook. I didn't have time to eat anything today--I woke up late, Bree was complaining of pain so I had to stay until the pain subsided a little, and then the ten minute walk of course. Today I ended up twenty minutes late. I broke the records, and if I had been any later I would've been kicked out. Lucky me I didn't--I was already in enough trouble.

"You okay?" I yell across the hall. I hear a faint yes from our bedroom. I hate seeing Bree in this much pain--she can't even get up. I just hope that everything goes alright. It worries me, a lot. But I don't show it, especially with Bree.
Thats not until night comes, thats all I think about. I have nightmares about the baby dying. Three times in a row now.
I loose myself thinking of it.. Once my stomach growls I remember the chicken. Smoke finds it way through the oven door.
"Shoot, I'm just like mom!" I exclaim pulling out the pan, trying not to look at the chard dinner.. Surprisingly my "tragic charcoal black disaster" is just right. Its nicely cooked actually--golden around the corners, and moist inside. I laugh to myself, "Phew"
Lay the chicken on the bread that I toasted and from there stack the lettuce and tomato on, with a little mayonnaise. I put more on mine, less on Bree's. Perfect, now I get some water. I grab a tray and lay the dinner on top.
I walk into our room balancing the tray on one hand, "Fresh from the bakery" I smile. Bree laughs, "What?"
"Its something my dad always said" I say, "Dinner in bed"
Bree rubs her hands together, "Rye, this looks so good! And I'm really surprised"
"Me too!" I laugh, "I've never thought something I made would be this good looking"
Bree struggles to sit up from all the pain. Downcasted by the amount of pain she's going through.
"I'm okay" she says whimpering slightly. I show a smile, "You can have the first bite."
She shrugs, "Alright" I get under the covers with her and sit up against the bedrest. Bree checks whats in it, "Lite mayo?"
"Course" I reply.
She bites into it. I watch nervously for a reaction. She covers her mouth, "Oh my god Rye, this is amazing!"
"No way!"
She nods, "Yes, its good!"
I grab mine and bite into it, "Oh wow" I gasp, "I guess you were right"
She nods, "The bread is so good!"
"Its my dad recipe from Willows deli she opened here." I reply.
We continue eating. I devour mine. Still shocked I'm this good of a cook.. Well not really..
Bree finishes and moans in pain. I lay my arm around her shoulder, "Whats wrong?"
"I have migraine coming on." she replies. I sigh,"You need to sleep."
She nods and rests her head on the pillow. I stay up, sitting next to her. I feel her quiver as if shes crying. I can't see her face, but I know she is. I sigh, trying to think of what to say--I rest my hand on her back, "Bree? You okay?"
I hear her cry, "No" she sniffles, "I'm just tired of this.. Sometimes I think it was a mistake.."
I hush her, "It wasn't a mistake"
She turns to me, "I don't know."
"What are you saying, Bree?" I question. She sighs, "If the baby doesn't make it then.. well it was."
I stroke her hair, "Oh Bree, don't say this. Be positive."
"Its easy for you, you don't have to be remembered about the baby every time you try to move" she cries, "Sometimes I wish that the baby would d-"
I cut her off, "No Bree! Don't say that"
"Its just exhausting"
"I know Bree" I run out of things to say. Bree looks up at me, "What should we do?"
"Life goes on, no one is in control, but we can at least hope, and you can get some sleep."
Bree nods. "My mom always told me, 'hope is the only thing stronger then fear" I say. Bree smiles, "I'll remember that"
"Now get some sleep" I say. Bree turns to her side and tries to fall asleep. I stay up with her a little longer rubbing her arm. Trying to think of happier thoughts.