"You actually laid eyes on them?" She questions.
"Yes," he nods in confirmation, "They are fine."
"Are you just saying that to mollify me?"
"No," he shakes his head.
"It's not as if I am going to know the difference, right?"
"Olivia, I wouldn't lie to you."
"Even to spare my feelings?"
"You don't give me enough credit."
"You're absolutely sure that everything is okay?"
"Olivia they are fine. They each have ten fingers, and ten toes."
"Are they both breathing?"
"They are both breathing," he reassures her.
"On their own?"
"Baby B is on a little bit of supplemental oxygen right now, but that is just more of a precaution than anything. The person that I am most worried about right now, is you."
"I'll be fine, I always am."
He shakes his head in disbelief, "You always pretend to be, even when you're not."
"Nick," she tries to warn him.
"Why don't you get some rest?"
"Apparently I already had a four hour nap."
"Your body needs time to recover. Can I get you something to eat?"
"I told you. I'm not hungry."
"You're sure?"
There is a knock on the door. Nick rises from his seat, and peaks around the corner.
"Olivia are you up for a visitor?" He questions.
"Who is it?"
"Melinda."
"Okay," she agrees.
Melinda walks past the curtain, and takes a seat next to Olivia. Nick hovers at the foot of Olivia's bed.
"Nick you should go eat."
"I'm not hungry," he argues.
"You are the one who kept bringing it up."
"I'll give the two of you some time," he nods as he leaves the room.
Melinda turns towards Olivia, "He's worse than a black helicopter."
"Yeah."
"Is there anything that I can get for you? Is there anything that I can do for you?"
"No."
"If there is you'll let me know?"
"Of course."
"You look tired you should get some rest."
"Nick called you?"
"I called him. Everyone called him to find out what happened, but he wouldn't answer."
It doesn't take long for Olivia to tire, and drift back to sleep. Nick returns with coffee, and he leads Melinda into the hallway. He closes the door behind them. He leans up against the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand.
"So what happened?" Melinda questions.
His eyes tilt towards her, and it's obvious to her that he's hiding something.
"It was awful. They put the baby on her chest, before I could tell them not to. I know she had discussed it with them before hand, but I think that in the moment they were just overcome by their usual routine. The baby was crying, and she was crying, and I just kept praying she didn't look over at me, because I was sure that I was going to cry. Then all of a sudden they take that baby, and there is the second baby. It was blue, and all of a sudden she was completely pale. There was so much going on. I was afraid to look. I didn't know whether to focus on the blue baby, or all of the blood everywhere, or to look away. In a matter of seconds they're whisking babies away, and then they're putting up rails on Olivia's bed, and wheeling her down the hallway. They wouldn't let me go into surgery with her."
"They usually don't let anyone in an emergency surgery," Melinda points out.
"I waited in the lounge for an hour, and no one came out to tell me anything. Finally I went to the NICU to see what was going on with the babies."
"And?"
"Only one of them was there. I had the bracelet, so they just assumed I was the father."
Melinda stops him, "Why was only one of them there?"
"They moved the first baby to the nursery."
"And baby b?"
"The nurse asked if I was the father, and I was in such shock still that I couldn't say anything. I just nodded. She asked me to sign a consent form, and..."
Melinda cuts him off, "A consent form, for what?"
"To send the baby to another hospital."
"Why?"
"They couldn't get the second baby's oxygen saturation high enough. Then at the last minute another nurse comes up with a different consent form, and asks about mechanical ventilation. She said they wouldn't have to move the baby."
"What did you tell Olivia?"
"I looked at her and told her a bold faced lie," he admits.
"What did you tell her?"
"That they were both fine, and that the second baby was just on a little bit of oxygen."
"What's the truth?"
"When I left the NICU they were getting ready to intubate."
"What are you going to tell her if she asks again?"
"I am going to keep lying to her."
"Why?"
"She has enough going on in her head right now. She won't talk to me about any of it. She won't talk to anyone. The last thing she needs is to feel like she did something wrong. I don't think that she can handle it. She doesn't have any desire to see them, so it doesn't really matter what I tell her."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I didn't know what to do."
"Why don't you go back in there, and stay with her? I will check on the babies."
"Are you sure? Melinda you don't have to do that."
"I can handle it. You stay with her. When I'm done I'll come back, and you can go home, and rest."
"I'm fine."
"She's sleeping she won't know the difference."