The other doctor sighed. “Sure.” He fled the room, wanting to get away before I could give him something else to do, I suspected.
I sighed, closing my eyes. “I’m going to have to buzz for a nurse in about fifteen minutes to see if they actually called Maggie.”
“I’ll make sure it happens.” He reached backward for a chair and dragged it closer to the bed, sitting down. “Do you want me to call her right now? Where’s your phone?”
“I don’t have it,” I confessed. “I was so out of it when the paramedics loaded me up to bring me here. I didn’t even think of my phone until I got here and realized I didn’t have any way to get in touch with—well, with anyone.”
“Ah, okay. I assume you don’t have her number memorized.”
I shook my head.
“I’ll go out in ten minutes and make sure the nurse got the message, then.” He stretched his fingers and then wrapped them more securely around mine. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so sick, sweetheart. But I’m glad you’re here and they’re taking care of you.” He lifted our joined hands to his lips and brushed a kiss across my fingers.
The tears that had been threatening since earlier today when I’d begun feeling so sick burst forth at last, and my entire body shook with sobs.
“Oh, baby, baby, don’t cry.” Noah slipped his arm under my shoulders and held me gently. “What can I do to make it better? Tell me. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what to do.”
I shook my head, unable to speak yet.
“Are you hurting? Do you need me to get the doctor, or—”
“No,” I managed to choke out. “I’m sorry I’m being such a baby. I just—I just . . .” I cried a little harder. “I just don’t feel good. And I was so scared.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Noah eased me closer to him. “Tell me what hurts. Where do you feel bad?”
It was such an unfamiliar luxury to have someone ask me what I needed, someone who cared about me and what was troubling me. I’d grown accustomed to being self-sufficient, and usually, I was proud that I could take care of myself. But right now, I just wanted to rest. I wanted to let go of everything and trust that someone else was in charge of my life.
“My throat hurts,” I sniffled. “And I ache all over. And I’m hot, but when I take off the covers, I get the chills.”
“Okay.” Noah studied me for a minute. “I have an idea. Hold on a second, and I’ll be right back.”
I clung to his hand. “Promise?”
He smiled and nodded. “Promise. Close your eyes for a few minutes.”
I did, and I thought I must have dozed off for a few minutes. When I heard a sound next to me, I managed to drag my eyelids open.
“Here. Let’s try this.” Noah had a pink plastic basin of water and a small white towel. He soaked the towel, squeezed it and folded it carefully before placing it on my head. “How’s that?”
“Better.” The cool eased some of my headache and fever. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep now?” He sat down again and took my hand. “I’ll be right here next to you.”
“But . . .” There was a reason why I couldn’t relax, couldn’t sleep yet, but I couldn’t quite remember what it was.
“While I was out there getting the water and the cloth, I asked the nurse at the desk about getting in touch with your midwife. I only remembered her first name, but the nurse looked her up in your chart and called her while I was standing there.”
Thatwas it. “Thank you,” I managed to slur the words before sleep overtook me once again. The last thing I knew was that Noah was close enough that I could smell his clean, appealing scent and hear the quiet in and out of his breath. It was comforting, and I drifted off, secure in the steadiness of his presence.
* * *
It didn’t surpriseme at all that I wasn’t moved upstairs to a room on the labor and delivery floor until early evening. Nothing moved fast in a hospital unless someone was coding or racing toward the OR, and that didn’t happen as often as some television shows would have us think.
It also didn’t surprise me that I was left largely alone by the staff in the ER while I was waiting to be moved. There wasn’t much they could do for me, and as long as I wasn’t complaining, bleeding, or puking, I was the least of their worries.
What did surprise me was that Noah never left.
He sat with me, periodically soaking the small towel for my head, wringing it out, and replacing it. He didn’t fidget or skim social media on his phone. As a matter of fact, he never took out his phone at all. His attention was on me the entire time, and when they finally wheeled me upstairs, he walked alongside me, his hand in mine.
