“Hey, Trev,” Ashlie says. “You on the road yet?”
“As soon as I hang up. Keep me posted, Ashlie, about everything. Contractions, water breaking, when you leave for thehospital. I’ll have my phone hooked up to the car system. I need to know everything.”
“Of course. Drive safe, okay?”
I nod like she can see me, and the line goes dead in the middle of another groan from Willa. After hooking up my playlist, I set the GPS and barrel through the worst of the raging storm. It’s bad out here, but the skills ingrained from growing up in the Midwest winters are like muscle memory.
By the time I’ve reached the halfway point, my body’s stiff, and my mind is in shambles. Ashlie just let me know that they’re taking Willa to the hospital after laboring at home for six hours. I feel like the worst kind of failure right now. It’s not healthy to think like this, but driving through a pitch-black snowflake vortex for hours has given my mind way too much freedom to wallow in the guilt eating me up inside. I’ve already crossed into Nevada, and while the snow cleared a while ago, I still have six more hours on the road, at least.
Every single time I’ve had to stop for gas, food, or the bathroom, I’ve rushed in and out to get back on the road as fast as possible. My mind is focused on getting home, in between the berating thoughts screaming louder in my head with each update from Ashlie.
It’s just after one in the morning when I stop in Vegas to fill up and stretch my legs. When I walk into the convenience store, I come face-to-face with a wall full of stuffed animals wearingWelcome to Fabulous Las Vegasshirts. The slot machine flashing rapidly in the corner briefly distracts me from my relentless mental battle.I’m about to be a dad. An actual father to a living, breathing person. My eyes land right on a pink giraffe, and I smile as Willa’s amused scowl appears in my head.You’re going to spoil her. My breath stutters as I reach for it, and I’m suddenly frozen next to the energy drink stand.This is really happening. The anticipation for the last nine months is about to be realized, and while I’m up for the challenge, I don’t know that I’ve stopped to think about how much everything’s about to change. I don’t get a chance to thinkabout it now, either, because my phone rings in my pocket. Seeing Willa’s name flash across the screen drops me back into a panic.
I press the little green phone, and before I can say a word, Willa’s going in on me. “I hate you so much right now, Trevor Jones!” She makes a low whine, akin to something caught in a trap, and my heart shatters.
“Gem—”
“I’m not done. I hate you so much”—she says through what sounds like gritted teeth—“I’m making you sleep on our hard-ass couch for a week.”
“Willa—”
“They want to shove a needle as long as your fucking arm in my back, Trevor! They want to impale me to make the pain go away, and the only thing I can think about are the stupid dimples on your stupid, handsome face.”
I chuckle despite the anguish twisting my insides. “So, you finally admit I’m handsome…”
“Yeah, and I”—she screeches, and I pull the phone from my ear with a grimace—“I hate that most of all.’
“I love you, Willa.”
“Alway—ughhh.” Her voice trembles, and I swallow back the thick coil of emotion in my throat so I don’t break down in the middle of this convenience store.
Ashlie comes on the line, talking so fast my feet match her cadence as I head to the register. Willa’s only at five centimeters, but she’s so exhausted, they want to give an epidural so she can rest. I set the giraffe and an energy drink on the counter, pressing my phone against my shoulder as I reach for my wallet. The clerk watches me like I just hopped out of a UFO. I’m sure I look a wreck.
Back on the road, hope sparks in my chest at the four-hour mark.I might actually make it. Three hours left, and I’m a little worried I haven’t heard anything from the hospital. Between Hunter and Ashlie, I’ve been updated every hour or two,but it’s been hours since I left the convenience store. No calls. No texts. I reach over to the radio display and pull up Ashlie’s number. It rings for the longest eternity before going to voicemail, and I hang up and try Hunter. Same thing. Thirty minutes later, I’m cussing as I toggle between calling the two people with the only information on my wife.Shit.Not my wife. She feels like my wife though, in every way that matters.Fuck. I drag a hand down my face and pin my eyes to the road. There’s no time to unpack any of that right now.
By the time I get to the hospital parking lot, I’m a motherfucking mess. My stagnant muscles are screaming as I park the car. I grab my phone and the pink giraffe, and despite the exhaustion settled into my body, I run. The elevator takes two seconds too long, so I sprint up the three flights of stairs to the maternity floor. When I reach the nurses’ station, they look at me like the madman I feel like inside.
“Willa Willis?” My breath comes out in heaving waves. I gulp as I take in the bubblegum pink strip of paint across the white walls.
“You are…?”
“Trevor Jones. I’m the?—”
“Dad!” A short nurse with graying coils peeks around her computer, smiling. “Willa will be so relieved. Room 315.”
I nod, skipping the pleasantries as my adrenaline sends me rushing down the hall.
Room 309. A monitor beeps rapidly behind the closed door.
Room 311.I narrowly miss a nurse rushing into the chaos.
Room 313.A baby wails, filling me with dread.
Room 315.I bust through the door, hoping to hear screaming, crying,anything.But no.
Silence.
My eyes sweep the darkened room, landing on a sleeping Willa, still very much pregnant. Ashlie’s snoring lightly, lying across the bench under the window with her head in Hunter’slap. He’s sitting up, head slumped back against the wall, knocked out.
