Nate’s thoughts were interrupted by a groan. He turned around to see Zara bearing down again, pushing hard. “Where’s she at?” he asked Jess quietly.
“I can feel the head.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. In her exhaustion, he could tell she was having trouble coming up with a plan.
“We have two choices, then. Get her into the elevator and hope we make it up to the ward or help her deliver in the car. Do you want to try getting her up there?”
“Honestly, with how quickly this is progressing, I’m not sure she’ll make it, but I think we should try.”
“I agree.”
Jess gave him a strange look, likely thinking something close towhy should I care if you agree, but he didn’t want to get into it just now. Thankfully, at that moment, James came running out of the hospital doors, pushing a wheelchair.
“Zara, before your next contraction, we’re going to move you to the wheelchair. You got it?” Jess said firmly, sounding more confident now than a few seconds earlier. “Nate, can you take most of Zara’s weight? James, hold that wheelchair steady now.”
Nate slipped his arm under Zara’s and around her back, bracing her. “Zara, are you ready?” he asked softly.
“I guess I have to be.”
“Let’s move on three,” said Nate. “1, 2, 3.” He lifted carefully but firmly, turning Zara so she could position herself into the wheelchair. Another contraction took hold and Zara doubled over, clinging to Nate’s hands for support.
“I’ve got you,” he said, feeling calmer than he had in days. His feet firmly planted on the asphalt, his full focus on Zara, waiting out her contraction. The weight on his palms and wrists as she leaned into him. The earthy, ancient noises of childbirth. It felt grounding, evaporating all the confusion he’d been feeling since his life fell apart.
The contraction passed, and Zara tipped her head up to look at him. “Want to swap?” she said, making Nate laugh.
“Lean back and let’s get you in the hospital, shall we?”
Jess led the way, and they reached the elevator before the next contraction hit.
Zara strained back against the wheelchair, panic in her eyes. “James, I can feel her coming!”
James stroked Zara’s hair and muttered something, but to anyone witnessing, his panic was obvious. As the elevator made its painfully slow ascent, Jess slid Zara’s underwear off and checked the baby’s position again.
“It’s going to be just fine,” Nate said. “We’re almost there.”
No way to check the baby’s heart rate. No way to make sure a delivery suite was ready. He mentally crossed his fingers. Hopefully, it was a quiet afternoon on the ward.
The elevator doors opened and the four of them poured out onto the level markedMaternity. Jess raced ahead to check for an available room.
Zara grasped Nate’s hand again and by the firmness of her grip, she didn’t intend on letting go anytime soon. He offered her a stream of encouragement. “Just a few more seconds, Zara. You’re doing so well. We’re almost there.”
Jess ushered them into a room with dimmed lighting and Nate, his hand still in Zara’s vice-like grip, helped the labouring mother onto the bed. Jess took charge as another contraction began, and Nate turned his attention to James, who stood frozen with his huge hands still wrapped around the wheelchair’s handgrips.
“James, come swap jobs,” he said. James hurried over and Zara, eyes closed and teeth clenched, switched her grip from Nate’s to her husband’s hand.
With an admiring glance at Jess—now focused and competent sitting between Zara’s legs, monitoring baby and mum—Nate took the wheelchair and slipped out of the room. As the door closed, he heard a baby crying.
That was close. Closer than any he’d ever experienced firsthand.
9
BACK AT THE COTTAGE, JESSgratefully accepted a plate piled high with noodles, sweet and sour pork, lemon chicken, and various brightly coloured vegetables topped with three wontons.
“Do you think you ordered enough food?” she teased from the couch, her plate in her lap.
Nate took a seat at the table and stared at the mountain of food on his plate. “You were asleep, and I didn’t know what you’d want, so I just ordered everything.”
“I can see that. Thank you, though. This all looks good.” She had slept the whole car ride home and woken in the driveway with Nate gently rocking her shoulder. He’d somehow stopped to grab Chinese takeaways on the way back and she’d slept right through.
She lifted a forkful of noodles to her mouth, her arms cement. Her entire twenties, working long and late, partying hard, and barely sleeping, were finally catching up with her. There was nothing beyond the plate in front of her, as far as she was concerned.
