I was still getting comfortable in the new room when Maggie arrived.
“Look at you, causing trouble already,” she teased as she came in. And then she noticed Noah. “Oh, Alison, this must be—is this—uh—”
I lifted one shoulder. “Maggie, this is Noah. Noah, Maggie’s my midwife.”
“Well, well, well. So nice to meet you, Noah.” She glanced sideways at me. “And congratulations on becoming a father in the near future.”
“Thanks.” Noah wasn’t a bit fazed. “And thankyoufor coming over here to see Alison. She was anxious to talk with you.”
“I’m sure it was a very unsettling day.” Maggie perched on the edge of my bed. “I looked at your chart before I came in. Everything looks perfect, sweetie. I know this is scary, but the baby’s fine, and you’re getting good care. They’ve started your anti-viral, and your temperature’s gone down. They’ll keep you hydrated and comfortable tonight, and then hopefully in the morning, if everything looks good, you can go home.” She lifted a finger and pointed it at me. “And you willrest, Alison. You will stay at home for a week. No office hours. No seeing patients.”
“A week?” I let my head drop to the flat white pillow. “I can’t be out of the office for a week, Maggie. You know that.”
Maggie continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “At the end of that week, you’ll come to see me, and I’ll determine whether or not you’re well enough to resume normal activity.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that she was being ridiculous when Noah piped up. “That’s exactly what she’ll do, Miss Maggie. I promise, I’ll make sure of it.”
I swiveled my head toward Noah and narrowed my eyes. “You and what army?”
“Is there anything we should worry about long-term with either Alison’s health or the baby’s?” Noah asked, ignoring me.
“No, I don’t expect so. Alison’s healthy, and she should recover quickly—assuming she listens to her midwife’s directions.” She cast me a meaningful look. “And the only thing I’d like to do a little differently is to send you for a high-resolution ultrasound at around twenty weeks. I don’t think there’s anything to be worried about, but whenever Mom has a fever in pregnancy, it’s a good idea to take an extra look.”
I nodded, not surprised about this suggestion. “All right. Fine.”
“Great.” Maggie beamed. “I’m going to get out of here so you can get your rest. I’ll call you in a few days and get an update.” She stood up. “Noah, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You, too, Miss Maggie.” Noah enfolded both the midwife’s hands in both of his. “Thank you so much for coming all the way over here. I know seeing you put Alison’s mind at ease.”
“Oh, my.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Alison, honey, I get it now.” She winked at me, and I bit back a snort.
After Maggie had closed the door behind her, I glanced at Noah. “What time is it, anyway? Feels like it’s late, but I’m so woozy, I can’t really tell.” I yawned.
“Just after nine.” Noah settled into a chair that didn’t look very comfortable.
I sighed. “Okay. Well, you should probably head home now.” I paused. “Do you need to call for a car?”
“Nope, I’m back among the driving population, thanks very much. And I’m not going home. I’m staying here with you tonight.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” I objected. “Don’t be ridiculous, Noah. I’m fine. You heard Maggie. I’m here with all the doctors and nurses . . . all I plan to do for the next twelve or thirteen hours is get as much sleep as I can. There’s nothing for you to do.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m staying.” He patted the arm of the chair and then leaned back until it reclined and a footrest popped out. “I told them I wasn’t going home, so the nurse arranged for a sleeping chair for me. She’s bringing an extra pillow and blanket in a minute.”
I wanted to argue with him some more, but I was too tired, and my headache was returning. “Okay. Do whatever you want.”
A nurse came in a few minutes later with Noah’s blanket and pillow. She fussed over him, telling us both how sweet it was to see such a devoted man. He smirked and looked satisfied, and I would’ve rolled my eyes if I wasn’t feeling so shitty.
She gave me another dose of acetaminophen, hung another bag of fluids, and dimmed the lights on her way out. The room wasn’t completely dark—that was almost unheard of in a hospital—but it was as restful as it was going to get. I closed my eyes.
I heard Noah making himself comfortable, grunting as he adjusted the pillow and the chair. When he’d stopped moving around, he sighed softly.
“Noah,” I murmured. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat. “For what?”
“For coming to the hospital today. For staying with me tonight. For making sure I wasn’t alone.” Somehow, it was easier to say these things in the quiet dark.
“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I was glad I could be here.” His voice was a little muffled by the pillow, but I heard him anyway.
