Patricia's POV
I groaned at the sound of Jamie's earsplitting cry. Granted, it wasn't the middle of the night, but I still was annoyed at the fact that he couldn't nap for more than two hours. I shoved the throw blanket off my bare legs, and marched into the bedroom, where the crying was louder.
As if in a trance, I lifted him from the crib, and brought him to the kitchen. Holding him in one arm, I snatched a bottle of formula from the fridge. Piper had told me about how breast feeding was the natural—and apparently beautiful—way to feed your newborn, but I just thought it was weird.
On my sister's advice, I'd tried it. Not that weird, but very uncomfortable. The doctor said Jamie could sustain on a formula, and my body would eventually stop...producing...milk.
Jamie's cries had died down to a hungry whimper as I brought him over to the couch, and placed the bottle between his tiny lips. His dark eyes lit up immediately at the rubber dispenser, and he sucked on it in something of a ravenous way.
I sighed, watching the formula slowly disappear from the plastic bottle. It was half empty when the telephone rang. I jumped, startled by the noise. After a quick recovery, I stood up, still holding Jamie in my arm, and keeping the bottle propped in his mouth with the other hand.
As I went across the room to the phone, I expected it would be Piper or Joy, but when I got there, and unknown number flashed across the screen. I wondered if it was someone trying to sell me something I couldn't afford.
Whatever.
I leaned down, and clicked the speaker button with my elbow. "Hello?"
"Patricia?"
I recognized the voice immediately, but couldn't place where exactly it was from. "Uh, yeah.." I shifted my weight form foot to foot. "Thats me."
"Oh, thank heavens this is your correct number!"
"Sorry, who's this?" I asked, kind of annoyed the caller hadn't bothered to identify himself.
"Right, of course. Sorry for not saying. Uh, it's, Mr. Sweet. Well, Eric, if you'd like."
My stomach did a sort of summersault at this. Why was Mr. Sweet, of all people, phoning me?
"Hello?" he asked when I hadn't said anything.
"Uh..." I cleared my throat. "H-hi, Mr. Sweet."
Mr. Sweet.
I felt stupid for calling him that, but it was a reflex.
"Well, ah, I'm just going to get right to it, Patricia," Sweetie continued. "I really don't want to speak on my son's behalf, but I feel I have to, right now."
My heart skipped a beat at my son.
"I feel Edison has some explaining to do, you see, but right now he's in a sort of rock and a hard place situation right now."
The confusion enveloping my mind was overbearing, and I couldn't think of anything to say.
"Here's the thing," he went on. "I'm sitting in a hospital lobby right now, waiting to hear from a doctor how bad Eddie's head trauma is, and it's terribly lonely."
"Head trauma?" I repeated, sucking in a small breath.
"Yes. He was in a car accident about an hour ago."
Everything went still. I no longer registered the background noise of the city outside my open window, or Jamie suckling at his bottle, or the TV as the weatherman talked about the reasoning behind last night's downpour.
I only heard Eddie's voice. When we met, when we teased, when we flirted, when we kissed, when we dated, when we fell, when we fought, when we left, when we reunited.
It all played over and over again in my head until my brain was nothing but a fluffy buzz of Eddie.
"Is...is he okay?" I managed.
"I honestly don't know," Mr. Sweet answered softly. "But I'd love some company..."
I exhaled slowly, shakily. "I'll be there in a half hour."
With that, he gave me the hospital's address, and I was out the door, dropping everything for the guy who'd left me to raise a kid on my own. That's always how it works, though, isn't it? You can't control who you love.
A/N
Sorry this is so short. I promise there'll be loads of Peddie in the next chapter, i.e., they'll actually talk and stuff.
Patricia didn't just leave Jamie alone, by the way. Haha, she dropped him off at Piper's house.
5 reviews for next chapter, please!
~Em :)