* * *
Oh, no, not again.
Darcy sat at the folding table in the suddenly too warm back room of the party coordinating business where she’d been hired to inventory catering supplies, stuff envelopes, assemble favors, scoop birdseed satchels and anything else the overbooked business needed assistance with during their seasonal rush.
The pay wasn’t great, but she’d been lucky the manager of the restaurant where she’d been working had put in a good word with the owner to get her the temporary position. And at least she was maintaining an income, if somewhat reduced.
A few more weeks and the nausea would ease because it couldn’t get any worse. And once her stomach was back under control—
As if on cue, her belly lurched again.
“You okay?” her boss asked from the open doorway.
Darcy pushed to her feet, lifting a hand to let the older woman know she was fine. Except the shrinking edges of the room hazing into sepia tones warned she wasn’t.
She tried to get a hand back to the table, but too quickly everything went loose and dark and down until there was only one thought left in her head...and that was the silent plea that her baby be okay.
* * *
Darcy woke slowly, her senses coming back online one at a time as she registered the hard mattress of the hospital bed beneath her, the dimmed overhead light and the deep rumble of a voice she hadn’t been expecting. One which shouldn’t have been coming from anywhere near her.
Jeff.
“...Dehydration, fatigue, low blood pressure, weight loss... No, they say both she and the baby will be all right, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving without—”
She shifted in the bed, remembering too late about the needle threaded into her vein and letting out a short gasp when she put weight on it.
Whatever Jeff had been about to say, she missed and now the conversation was over. Jeff was suddenly in her room, filling up the small space with his enormous presence. Dropping his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he crossed to her bed like he was going to slide into the open chair beside her. But instead, he reached for the call button and signaled the nurse before taking a step back. Fixing her with a serious look. “Do you need anything? How are you feeling?”
“Tired still, but, Jeff, you didn’t need to come. I told Charlie, they just wanted me to get some fluids and an antinaus—”
“You told me you were fine.” It wasn’t exactly accusation she was getting off him, but the intensity was like a palpable thing. “I spoke to your doctor already and hyperemesis gravidarum can be dangerous and severe. You are not fine, Darcy.”
Guilt washed over her in a wave. She’d thought it was just morning sickness in an all-day, extended package, which she’d heard was normal, too. Though she’d planned to speak to her doctor at her next checkup about the extremity of it, she’d had no idea her body had begun turning against her, threatening what she’d been struggling to protect.
“I didn’t know it had gotten so bad. I don’t own a scale so I didn’t know how much weight I’d lost. My clothes fit a little differently, loose, but I’d heard lots of people lose weight early on.” She felt a burning pressure at the backs of her eyes and blinked to defend against the emotions trying to slip free.
She was supposed to be the one who took her responsibilities seriously and made the right decisions. She was supposed to be able to count on herself. Her child’s life depended on it.