In His Arms

Chapter 7

Warm...it's warm...

It's not a bad warm but not too good either...yeah...that's a better way to describe how I feel right now. Neither good nor bad. Neither hot nor cold. Yeah...nice but not so nice...

"Ms Summers..."

Mmm...five more minutes...

"Wake up..."

No.

"Come on..."

No...

"Ms Summers?"

Groggily opening my eyes, I slowly force my muscles to move, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed, I gently touch my left temple with my IV-dripped right hand, frowning when I find that my left hand is weighed down by a very blurry-looking Mr Holt next to me.

I need my glasses...

"Mr Holt?" I whisper, unsure whether or not I should wake him up, nervously looking at my surroundings deducing my location. "I'm in the hospital..."

"Yes, you are," A deep familiar voice speaks from my right causing my neck to do a full 180 to face the speaker. "Good morning or rather evening, Ms Summers."

A blurry figure of a tall, brown-haired man in a dark blue jacket and matching pants stands by something that can pass as a window in my poor vision, moving towards me the figure stretches out an arm, in which I make out a large brown rectangular object. My glasses.

Putting them on, the world around me goes clear and the man standing next to the IV drip suddenly has a face, sheepishly smiling, I decide to act innocent as if I don't know the actual reason for his being here at the hospital, "Hi, Dad...what are you doing here?"

Giving me a stern look, I know that my game has been called, leaning into the soft pillows in defeat, I sigh heavily. The last time I saw my father was during June when he had come to check on how I was doing, who would have thought the next time I'd see him would be here at a hospital after a panic attack?

"How are you feeling?" He asks, looking at me. "The doctors said it was exhaustion and low red blood cells that made you collapse. Your blood count was as low as 4.8. What were you thinking, Honey? Overworking yourself again."

Shaking my head, I give him a shaky smile to try to calm down his rising anger, "I'm sorry...It's just that I'm taking care of a three-month-old, juggling two jobs and I've had a lot to deal with in the last thirty-six hours."

Forming a thin line with his lips, my Dad sighs heavily, his light brown eyes flicker towards Mr Holt's sleeping figure by my side, commenting, "It's nice to see that you have a good man by your side, honey. He was furious when he found out you had collapsed under King's watch, and threatened him even if anything were to happen to you."

Nodding my head in silence, not knowing how to tell my Dad the actual reason why Mr Holt was so worried about me, in all honesty, I didn't see my Dad totally in agreement about me marrying a man whom he just met in the most unfavourable of circumstances, just for public appearance because King ran his tongue.

From the corner of the room I hear a whimper, leaning up, I spot the blue stroller and the tiny fists flailing around. Seeing where my gaze leads, my Dad smiles warmly, going over to the blue stroller to push the whining baby to me.

"I miss having a baby to take care of," Dad comments as he picks Danny up in his arms, soothing him the way he must have done so with my older brothers. "It's nice to know that you followed in after your mother when it comes to caring for babies."

"What is that supposed to mean, Dad?" I ask, trying to laugh off the suspicion that he knows about the 'fake but genuine' marriage licence. "Danny isn't my son. He's Mr Holt's."

"As good a businessman Holt is," My father says, sounding almost as though we are making small talk about the weather and not about a man who happens to be sleeping between us. "I believe he isn't that great a father. Knowing you and piecing what I could from their conversation, I'm sure you're going to do what you feel is right. I'll support you no matter what you choose. Be it walking down the aisle to an altar or running away and filing a harassment lawsuit against Holt, King or both of them if you wish. I'll be there to support you."

Oh, what did I do to deserve such a father? Tearing up a little, I gently pry my hand out of Mr Holt's lost grip, gesturing for my Dad to let me carry Danny. Pouting a little, he reluctantly hands over the baby. Blowing bubbles with his saliva, Danny makes his baby love noises as he places his baby hands on my face.

Okay, either I am feeling that IV plug in my hand right now...did he get heavier?

Making an excuse that he wants to get a nurse to alert them that I'm awake, Dad leaves the hospital room, hiding his very obvious smile.

Once he's gone, I murmur to Danny, "Hey, Dan Dan. I'm going to be your mummy. I've thought about it and I think it's the best not for your terrible father but for you."

Letting Mr Holt sleep for a while longer, I ask the nurse to bring me a baby tub so that I can wash Danny who smells like sour milk with the help of my Dad, we manage to get him cleaned up and is when he 'accidentally' poured the dirty bathwater onto the back of the soundly sleeping Mr Holt, even spilling a little on a just-cleaned Danny who giggles as his father looks around in shock.

"Why am I wet?" He sputters, his grey eyes searching the ceiling as if there was a giant leak from the air conditioner above him. "Bloody hell..."

"Language, Mr Holt," I snap, covering Danny's ears as he claps and giggles looking at his father in absolute innocence. "If Danny retains those words and repeats them to me when he's two years old, I will personally come after...you...What?"

Staring at me in a daze as if he can't believe that I'm in front of him, Mr Holt extends his hand touching my cheek in disbelief before his lips part slightly as he takes in a sharp breath realising that I'm awake.

"Why didn't you say anything if you're unwell? As your employer I should know these things, Ms Summers," He states, his grey eyes stern as he lectures me for being quiet. "Waking up at six in the morning to make breakfast for me and FOrd despite not having a wink of sleep the night before, not eating any food in the morning and then going to work with Danny. I admit I should have been more observant but you should have watched your health."

Not knowing how to argue back, I keep silent as my Dad watches him scold me from the sideline, his face splitting in half as he smiles at us.