The only thing they share is the same steely gray eye color. Otherwise, nothing about them resembles brothers. They don’t even look related.
Natasha’s cry echoes through the room, breaking the tension. Evan sets his bag down and rushes to her. “Hello, Natasha. My name is Dr. Whitlock. I’m going to help you deliver your baby.”
“I want drugs. All of them. Now!” she cries.
Evan chuckles. Chuckles! How can he seem so calm while so much is going on? I glance at Kade, who hasn’t moved; his arms folded over his chest and no expression on his face. The man I now know is named Lincoln has found a chair in the corner. His hands hang between his legs, his head low as if he’s going to be sick. I have so many questions, but with the tension between Kade and Evan, and Natasha screaming in pain, now’s not the time.
“Let me check how far along you are before I can give you anything.” Evan opens his doctor’s bag, snaps on gloves, places a towel over Natasha’s legs for privacy, and helps her to remove her underwear, then examines her. “There’s no time for drugs. You’re fully dilated. You’re ready. Let’s meet this beautiful baby.” He smiles at her. He has such a kind, soothing nature about him. Pregnant women are lucky to have him as their doctor.
“No… no… I’m not ready.” Natasha thrashes her head from side to side.
I sit by her side. “Natasha, you can do this. Remember the breathing we did?” She nods, her eyes wide with fear. “Great, let’s do that again.” Once again, we breathe. I have no clue if it’s right or helps, but I make her do it anyway, and Evan doesn’t stop me, so I must be doing something right.
“Okay, Natasha, on your next contraction, I need you to push,” Evan instructs as he kneels at the foot of the bed.
When one rips through Natasha, she bears down, clutching her knees and gritting her teeth on a deep moan.
“That’s it. You’re doing great,” Evan encourages.
Half an hour and many pushes later, the cries of the new baby fill the room. Natasha flops back on the pillows, sweaty and drained.
“Congratulations, you have a beautiful girl.” Evan places the slippery-looking baby on Natasha’s chest.
With tears streaming down her face, Natasha chants as she nuzzles her daughter’s face, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
My cheeks are also wet. I’ve never experienced something so beautiful before. The moment the baby was placed in her mother’s arms, all the pain and suffering were wiped away and replaced with sheer joy and wonderment.
I glance over at Kade, who still hasn’t moved or said a word, making me wonder if he’s turned to stone.
After the cord is cut and Natasha’s cleaned up, Evan places a clean towel over the baby and places a hand on her shoulder. “Good job, Mom. When you’re ready, I’ll have an ambulance pick you up and take you to the hospital.”
Natasha’s eyes widen with fright. “Why? Is there something wrong with my baby?”
“No, no. From what I can tell, she’s strong and healthy. You and baby need care.”
“I’m not going.” She hugs her daughter like she’s protecting her from something.
“At the hospital, you’ll have nurses monitoring you both, twenty-four seven. They’ll also help you to nurse.”
“I’m not going,” she says with a stubborn tilt to her jaw.
“Why not?” Evan asks.
Natasha’s jaw hardens. “Because they’ll call my foster parents and send me back.”
Evan asks, “How old are you, Natasha?”
She dips her head. “Seventeen.”
Evan pushes back the lock of hair that’s fallen over his forehead. “Someone needs to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself.” The bravado in her voice says she’s done it before, but it doesn’t match the uncertainty in her expression. Now she has a baby, life will probably be so much harder.
“What about the father? Is he around to help you?” Evan asks.
“No.”
“Well, you can’t be on your own.”
