Josilyn POV
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There was a hand shaking me by my shoulder. There was also a cartoon Charlie Brown whispering in my ear.
I mumbled something back, shaking him off.
The chuckle I heard then wasn't from Charlie Brown, it was definitely my husband's. "What?"
"What are you even saying, baby?"
"I said go away because I'm not getting up," I mumbled.
"You might've said that in your head, but that is not what came out," he laughed again, opening the cover and grabbing my hand. "Open your eyes. I gotta talk to you."
"Just tell me." I turned my head into the pillow.
"Jo," he said. Goosebumps raised on my arm.
I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me with an expression I didn't like. "What happened? Are the kids okay?"
"Yeah, they're fine. I just.." His hand tightened over mine and he sat down on the bed beside me. "I took DaSha to the hospital last night."
My chest tightened, hoping he wasn't about to say what I thought he was. "Yeah? Why?"
"She was having contractions again. Said it was a lot more pain this time so I took her to the hospital... and she.. gave birth to little Ethan." He gave a small smile that showed he maybe wanted to smile bigger but was scared to.
I asked quietly, "She gave birth... last night?"
He gently nodded. "Yeah."
I blinked a few times, trying to smile for him. "Great! That's.. t-that's.. it's.. amazing!"
The hint of a smile slowly dropped, and he looked down. "Look Jo.."
"No, no, no really i-it's.. come here," I tugged his hand toward me, pulling him to lie down with me but on top of the cover. Then I hugged his neck, resting my forehead against his. "It's awesome, baby. I'm so happy for you."
He didn't respond, holding my eyes.
"T-Tell me," I cleared my throat, "Tell me about it. How was it? What's he look like?"
He still didn't respond, brushing some of the hair from my face as I cleared my throat again. His hand went behind my head, gently guiding me to lie my head on his chest.
"Lou.. tell me. Tell me how DaSha is.. what he.. what he l-looks like," I tried to clear my throat again and I choked on the lump in my throat, coughing. Then it was funny because one particular time I tried coughing again, a sob came out instead.
I tried lifting my head to apologize and get out of there, and he pushed my head further into his chest, holding me there. My fingers dug into his chest, a sorry excuse for an apology falling out of my mouth.
He wrapped his arms around me, kissing my head and started gently talking quietly into my ear as I soaked his shirt yet again, "3 lbs and 2 oz."
As if I said the words I was thinking aloud, he responded, "Yeah.. a little too tiny. He's on a breathing machine and feeding tube for the next few weeks, but he'll be okay. He's already fighting to hold his body temp." I wiped my face and smiled at the hint of pride in his voice.
"I didn't get to see his eyes," he mumbled, "But I bet they're blue. One of my children have to have my blue eyes and I have a feeling it's Ethan."
