Dominique walked over and sat on the bed. She’d never thought much about having another child but now recalled one seemingly innocuous comment when Jake had mentioned the joy brought by little girls. When she’d pressed and asked if he wanted children, Jake had shaken his head. “Too risky,” he’d said cryptically. “I’d never want to take the chance of having my child grow up without me.” Dominique didn’t realize that she was crying until a tear plopped on her arm and rolled down her wrist.

“Nikki, you in here?” Faith eased the door open and seeing her sister sitting on the bed, hurriedly closed the door and walked over. Dominique tried to quickly wipe away tears, but Faith had seen them and knew their cause. She sat down on the bed. “He still hasn’t called?”

Dominique shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Nikki.”

“Me, too.”

“Do you think you should try and call him again?”

“I think two days of unreturned phone calls is a loud enough message.”

Faith had no answer for this comeback, and remained silent.

Dominique lay down on Alexis’s bed.

“I’ll go get your cell phone, bring it up in case he calls.” Faith reached for the colorful afghan at the end of the bed and pulled it up over her sister. “The kids are all crashing on air mattresses downstairs. You can sleep in here tonight.”

An hour after Faith had brought Dominique’s phone to her, it rang. Her heart beat an erratic rhythm as she eyed the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dominique.” Jake’s voice was heavy.

Dominique’s heart jumped to her throat. “How’s Harold?”

Long pause. “He had a bad day yesterday, some kind of infection. He’s getting antibiotics intravenously. The doctors are cautiously optimistic but it’s still an uphill battle.”

Dominique released the breath she’d been holding. “How are you, baby?”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been better.”

Dominique sat up against the wall and hugged her niece’s large, stuffed animal to her, wishing she could hug Jake instead. “You want to talk?”

Longer pause.

For a while, Dominique wondered if he’d hung up. But she remained silent.

“This situation ... the waiting, the hospital smell, the nurses ... it brings it all back ... when my dad died.”

More silence.

Is he crying? So many thoughts ran through Dominique’s mind, but she voiced none of them. What should she say? Don’t worry? Keep the faith? Everything sounded so cliché and useless.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him, Nick ...”

“Then let’s stay positive,” Dominique blurted before she could stop herself. “Keep praying that he’ll be okay.”