Chapter 37

She was on his mind the rest of the day. He went in, finished up the report from the day before, sat in on an interrogation that one of the other detectives was doing, and Ross briefed him on a new case he and Mike were picking up. Bobby told his partner and the Captain what was going on with Alex, and Mike agreed to take care of the preliminary work on his own.

By seven p.m., Bobby was at her place. To his surprise, she wasn't up and about. He was hungry, but he went looking for Alex first.

She was lying on her side in bed, the lights off and the room quiet. Bobby slipped off his shoes and slid in beside her. He put his arm around her and kissed her temple.

Alex was relieved to feel him beside her. She'd stubbornly stayed up after she first came home, but the truth was, she was feeling rotten. The headache was persistent, and she was nauseated, too.

He spent some time caressing her before his hand went to the baby. Alex's hand moved over his, and they laced their fingers together. They were both worried.

"Liz said she can take me in the morning, if you have to go to work."

"I already told Ross, it's okay." He was relieved that she'd called her sister. Maybe she was starting to realize she couldn't face everything alone. "How are you?" he finally asked.

"I can't shake this headache," she complained. "I'm tempted to take something I shouldn't."

He was quiet, but squeezed her hand. He knew she wouldn't do that. Bobby extracted his hand from hers and massaged her, slowly, from shoulder to hip.

Alex rolled onto her back, causing his hand to fall on her breast. He caressed her there, too, and dropped his lips against hers. "You're still dressed," she said, stopping him from his ministrations. "Have you eaten?"

Bobby smiled and refused to answer her question. She pushed her hands against him.

"Go. Get something to eat. I'll be okay."

Bobby kissed her again before he got back to his feet.

"It is preeclampsia."

Alex gripped Bobby's hand tightly, and they looked to the doctor. "Well, what do we do next? How do we take care of it?" Bobby stammered anxiously.

"The only cure is to give birth. But I'm not comfortable with that course of action just yet. Alex, I'd like to get you to 37 weeks, if we can, before inducing." The doctor sat back and put her hands on her knees. "First, you need to be on bedrest. And I do mean bed. Second, I'll prescribe some medicine that should keep your blood pressure under control. As a precaution, I'll have you get a corticosteroid shot. That will help the baby's lungs develop more quickly, and if we should have to deliver early, give her a better chance. I'm going to want to see you once a week to monitor everything." The doctor turned and collected a handout from a file drawer beside her. "This will give you more information about the condition. If we can keep your blood pressure under control, and maintain the functioning of your other organs, you should be able to carry the baby longer. The longer she's in there, the better."

"And if you can't?" Bobby asked, his voice urgent.

"If we can't get things stabilized, we'll have to deliver prematurely. I'm not going to hide anything from you. This is a life-threatening condition, for both Alex and the baby."

Bobby folded the handout and stuck it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. The doctor handed Alex the prescription and told her the instructions for taking the medicine.

As the doctor left, Bobby took a deep breath. Alex leaned against him and he put his arms around her. They held each other tightly.

Alex called the Captain and filled him in while Bobby rearranged the bedroom to provide her with a few more amenities. He made sure she had easy access to a tv and a laptop. He brought in a few magazines and the novel she'd been reading. He filled a pitcher with water and set it by the bedside, along with a small cooler full of healthy snacks.

"He says you have to pick up some paperwork for me so they can get FMLA to kick in."

"Okay."

"Bobby, we still don't have the baby's room set up. I kept thinking there was time…"

"There is time," he said. "37 weeks. You'll make it."

"We need to be ready, Bobby. And now I… I can't do it."

"I'll take care of it."

"We need the crib and some way to keep the diapers and all of that organized. A baby swing, too…"

"I'll take care of it, Alex," he assured her. Bobby knew it was pressing in her mind, but something else was pressing in his. "Alex, I think… I mean if you think… to be ready for the baby… and while you're bedridden…."

"Spit it out, Bobby."

"I think I should move back in." He said it, but then the doubts started to fill him. He broke into a cold sweat and rocked from foot to foot while he waited for her to speak.

Alex was afraid, too: afraid that they'd jump in too quickly and lose everything they'd finally managed to build together. "You… really think so?"

"You don't want to."

"I didn't say that, Bobby. I… I'm just not sure…"

Bobby's face reddened with anger. "I'm sure! Our baby is coming, Alex! Maybe sooner than we think. I… I want to be… I don't want to be a father from a distance."

"But aren't you afraid that-?"

"Of course I'm afraid. But Alex, I love you. And I love her, and I think we'll have a better shot as a family if we live together." They stared at each other in silence, and he added, "I'll be here… to help… when she cries in the middle of the night." He stepped closer to the bed. "I'll take over when… when it's too much for you." After another step, he continued. "I'll take care of you, too."

She reached out her hand and he sat on the mattress beside her. "I just don't want it all to fall apart."

"Then we can't let it. We'll make it work."

She searched his eyes, and she thought about how much had happened in the last year. It wasn't a perfect relationship, but it was getting better, every day. "Okay, Bobby. We'll make it work."