Tempest Banks’s heart is still racing as she walks through the door of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. That phrase -- close to death -- keep echoing through her head. She can’t believe that Alex and Diane would even put it out there, like they actually want Yvette to die.
Her blood still boiling, she holds up her arm to show the wristband that Claire got her, which distinguishes her as the relative of a child in the unit, and then walks through the space in search of her half-brother’s incubator. The large room is set up in rows, with each incubator set up beside a slew of monitors and a leather recliner. Inside the boxes are babies smaller than she even thought possible; some of them are so small, so wrinkled and new, that it seems unreal that they are even alive. Their small bodies are hooked up to tubes and IVs and who knows what else, allowing machines to keep them functioning to give them a fighting chance at life.
She walks through two rows before a nurse turns to her.
“Can I help you find someone?” the nurse, a redhead only a few years older than Tempest, asks.
“My brother. Um, Banks. It’s a boy. He’s a boy, I mean."
The nurse has to think for only a split-second before pointing to the row just behind them. “He’s over there. Third, I think."
“Thanks,” Tempest says, unable to force a smile though she tries to sound as pleasant as she possibly can. She hurries toward the incubator and finds, as she gets closer, that it is indeed labeled with her own last name.
Inside lies a baby who appears to be considerably larger than most of the infants she saw as she walked through the NICU; he is still small, but in comparison to those babies, he looks downright sturdy. He is hooked up only to a single tube. Sporadic curls of black hair spring from his head, and his tiny hands are balled into fists.
“Hi there,” Tempest says, careful to keep her voice low even though she knows everyone who comes through here probably doesn’t whisper. But there are so many sleeping babies around that she feels that’s what she is supposed to do.
She stares down at the boy. Part of her can’t even believe that he is real. After all this build-up, after Yvette acting like her pregnancy gave her some right to barge back into Tempest’s life… there is a real child now. Her brother.
“You don’t know me yet, but I’m your sister,” she says, as she does a quick glance around to be sure that no one will hear her talking to this baby in a box who definitely cannot understand her. But, for some reason, it seems like the right thing to do.
His small eyes crack open, just enough for her to see some white and a hint of iris.
“Your mama is upstairs,” she says. “Our mama. She got hurt, but she’s gonna get better. I know she is.”
She feels her throat tightening. “She was gonna… She says she’s gonna try to do better for you than she did for me and Isaac. That’s our brother. I don’t know where he is right now. But things are gonna be okay for you. Mama said she would--” She stops herself; somehow it seems wrong to tell this innocent baby that the plan is for him to be handed off to strangers, even if they are all strangers to him as of yet. “We’re gonna make sure that everything is all right. Just believe me on that, will you?"
She still can’t fully believe that any of this is happening: the car accident, Yvette’s condition, the baby being here.
She touches a hand to the top of the incubator. “We need to get you a name. And we will, real soon. As soon as Mama wakes up.”
-----
In the Intensive Care Unit’s waiting area, Alex Marshall looks at Claire Fisher and shakes his head sadly.
“I am so, so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Alex, it’s okay. You didn’t know…” Claire watches the elevator bay, as if hoping that Tempest will materialize after her blow-up at them. She lets out a sigh. “So you and Yvette had a good meeting?"
“I think so. Yeah. It was a little awkward at first, but how could it not be? I was worried that the fact we’re a gay couple would be a non-starter, but she seemed open to it."
“Diane and I met with her not long ago,” Claire reveals. “Her initial reaction to having a same-sex couple adopt her baby was… not the most enthusiastic, but I was pretty sure we got through to her."
“Good. Thank you for that."
“Trevor didn’t get to meet her?"
Alex flinches. “No. I, um… it’s a little complicated."
“How so?” she asks, tilting her head.
Before Alex can answer, Diane Bishop and Samantha Fisher step off the elevator. When they turn the corner and spot Alex, they increase their pace.
“I’m glad you were able to come,” Diane says, touching a hand to Alex’s arm.
“I’m not sure it was such a hot idea,” Alex says.
Diane’s brow creases with concern. “Why?"
“Because he came in here and asked me if Yvette was really close to death,” Claire cuts in, “and Tempest walked in and overheard."
“Oh no,” Samantha, standing just behind her mother, mutters.
“Why would you say that?” Claire asks Diane. “You had to inject more drama into this whole thing?"
“More drama? The woman was in a car accident while nine months pregnant,” Diane says. “She went through an hours-long surgery and is in a coma. I wouldn’t exactly say she’s thriving!"
“No, but…” Claire grits her teeth in frustration. “You always have to sensationalize everything, don’t you?"
“I do not--"
“Where’s Tempest now?” Samantha asks.
The two women freeze, both of their mouths wide open and ready to continue firing verbal missiles, and turn toward Samantha.
“She went up to the NICU,” Claire says, her tone considerably softer. “She wanted to visit the baby."
“I’ll go find her,” Samantha says, her stress already clear as she anticipates her girlfriend’s state.
Alex steps forward, too. “And I’m going to go. Whatever happens, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be here right now."
Lips held tightly together, Claire nods. “I’m sorry about all that. I’ll keep you posted. The baby should be in the NICU for a few days--"
“Claire!” a voice says from across the room, grabbing the attention of all four of them. The doctor from last night, in blue scrubs again but this time without a surgical cap over his graying hair, moves toward them with urgency.
He scans the group. “Where’s Yvette’s daughter?"
“She’s up in the NICU,” Claire says impatiently. “What’s going on? Did something happen?"
His heavy eyelids droop. “I’m so sorry. Yvette went into massive cardiac arrest-- We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save her."
Samantha clutches her mother’s arm as the doctor’s words sink in.
“Yvette was pronounced dead a few minutes ago,” the doctor says gravely.
