Chương 3
The clerk handed her the page.
They spoke too quietly for me to hear.
The charge nurse read the first half.
Then she looked directly at Eric.
Not Diane.
Not Claire.
Eric.
He noticed.
“What?”
The charge nurse folded the page once.
“Rachel, we’re going to take you to Labor and Delivery.”
“Okay.”
“Your husband and the other visitors will remain here until we sort out who is permitted access.”
Eric stepped forward.
“You can’t keep me from my own child.”
The charge nurse’s expression did not change.
“Right now, I’m concerned with my patient.”
“I’m the father.”
“And she is the patient.”
Diane started protesting again.
The charge nurse raised a hand.
“Security has been called because there was physical contact with a laboring patient.”
Diane’s face drained.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“You may explain your version to them.”
“I didn’t assault anybody.”
The elevator doors opened.
Two people stepped out carrying balloons and froze when they saw us.
One balloon said WELCOME BABY in silver letters.
It bobbed above the argument with idiotic cheerfulness.
The nurse guided me toward the secured doors.
Eric called my name.
I kept walking.
“Rachel, wait.”
I stopped.
Not because he asked.
Because something had occurred to me.
I turned toward Claire.
“Did he tell you the baby was his?”
Nobody moved.
Claire’s face changed before she answered.
That was when I understood there was still something I did not know.
Her lips parted.
Eric said, “Don’t.”
Claire looked at him.
Then at me.
“He told me there was a chance it wasn’t.”
For a second, I thought the contraction had come back because something inside me clenched so hard I couldn’t breathe.
“What did you just say?”
Claire’s eyes filled, but she did not look away.
“He told me there was a chance the baby wasn’t his.”
Eric moved between us.
“That is not what I said.”
Claire laughed once, sharp and disbelieving.
“You said she had been seeing someone.”
“I said I had concerns.”
“You said you were waiting until after the birth to get proof.”
The nurse touched my arm.
“Rachel, we need to move.”
I barely felt her.
Eric turned toward me.
“Listen to me.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
He lowered his voice like the softness could erase the words already hanging in the corridor.
“I never said you cheated.”
Claire stared at him.
“You absolutely did.”
Diane muttered, “This is not helping.”
I looked at her.
“Did you know?”
Her mouth tightened.
“That is a private family matter.”
I nearly smiled.
Apparently my alleged affair was private, but my medical chart was community property.
The charge nurse pushed open the secured doors.
“Now.”
My body made the decision for me.
Another contraction seized me, lower and stronger, and I gripped the nurse’s forearm while she guided me through.
Behind us, Eric called my name again.
The doors shut before I answered.
The quiet on the other side was not really quiet.
Monitors beeped.
A cart squeaked over polished flooring.
Somewhere down the hall, a woman groaned and someone told her she was doing beautifully.
But Eric’s voice was gone.
I had not realized how much space it occupied until it disappeared.
The nurse introduced herself properly as Marisol while we walked.
I had forgotten to ask before.
She had been holding me upright for nearly twenty minutes, and I had not even known her name.
“Marisol.”
“That’s me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
I almost said everything.
Instead I said, “For grabbing you so hard.”
She looked at the red marks my fingers had left on her forearm.
“I’ve survived worse.”
That made me laugh again, and the laugh turned into a breathless sound when another ache began building.
She guided me into a labor room where a second nurse started asking questions while fastening monitors around my stomach.
The bed was wider than I expected.
The room had beige walls, a reclining chair, cabinets, a bassinet, and a small window looking across the parking garage.
Nothing about it resembled the room I had pictured.
In my version, Eric had been sitting in that chair complaining about hospital coffee.
My overnight bag would have been in the corner.
He would have complained when I crushed his hand.
He would have cried when our son arrived because Eric cried at commercials involving old dogs.
I hated myself for remembering that.
“Rachel?”
The second nurse was waiting.
“Sorry.”
“Any medication allergies?”
“No.”
“Any complications during pregnancy?”
“No.”
“First baby?”
“Yes.”
“Pain right now from zero to ten?”
I considered it.
“Which pain?”
Marisol looked down so I would not see her smile.
The second nurse did smile.
“Fair question.”
“Contractions, maybe seven.”
She typed.
“Everything else is difficult to quantify.”
The routine questions steadied me in a strange way.
Blood type.
Medications.
Last meal.
When my water broke.
Whether I had experienced bleeding.
Questions with actual answers.
I could manage actual answers.
A resident came in, examined me, and told me I was six centimeters dilated.
Six.
I had imagined arriving at two and being told to walk the halls.
Instead my body had apparently decided to sprint while my marriage collapsed beside registration.
The resident explained what would happen next.
I nodded too many times.
When she left, Marisol adjusted the monitor.
“Do you have someone you want us to call?”
“My sister.”
“Lauren?”
I looked at her.
“The clerk sent the updated contact information.”
“Right.”
My phone was somewhere in my purse.
I dug for it, found three missed calls from Eric, two from Diane, and eleven messages.
I did not open them.
Lauren answered on the second ring.
“Hey.”
The sound of her voice broke something.
I pressed my fist against my mouth.
“Rachel?”
“I’m at the hospital.”
“What?”
“I’m in labor.”
“Oh my God, okay, okay, I’m coming.”
Then she heard me crying.
“What happened?”
“Can you just come?”
Her voice changed.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Drive normal.”
May you like
“Don’t tell me how to drive.”
“You drive like a criminal when you’re nervous.”
