“See you Christmas Day, then,” she says, as she hugs me. “And don’t let Aiden choose a sickly looking, wonky tree. Promise me.”
I promise, laughing, and wave goodbye to the second Coleman I’ve watched leave in a chauffeur-driven car this week.
Aiden
Christmas Eve, 2018
As soon as Lexi gave me that little piece of paper with Pippa’s number written on it, I sent a text. We’ve been texting off and on since then, but not nearly enough for my liking. I have meetings; she has her deadlines. I don’t want us to be in each other’s business all day every day, but it’s been over a week since I saw her, now. I’m forgetting the softness of her lips and the scent of her hair, and I’m not happy about it. So it’s with no lack of excitement that I half-skip out to the car and greet Dev on the morning of Christmas Eve.
“Morning, Dev! We’re heading to get Pippa.”
“Aha! I thought you looked happier than I’ve seen you all week,” Dev replies, grinning broadly.
We get to Pippa’s street just before noon, and I send her a text to let her know we’ve arrived. I get out of the car myself to wait for her to come down, stomping around in the snow to keep warm and occasionally blowing into my hands.
“Hey!” she calls from behind me. I spin around to see her grinning, skipping down the steps and blowing plumes of steamy breath into the icy cold air.
“Hey, sexy,” I say, wrapping my arms around her as she gets close enough. I lean down and kiss her, desperately, deeply, trying to compensate for every second we’ve been apart. I feel her small hands grip at the front of my coat as she leans up on the tips of her toes, kissing me back just as eagerly. When she pulls away, she’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Miss me?” she asks. I don’t answer. Instead, I pull her in and kiss her again, deeper, and longer.
“I guess so, huh?” she says.
“I’ll never tell!” I grin. “Let’s find a Christmas tree.”
We head for the car, hand in hand. Dev is standing beside the door, stoic and professional, and he opens it for us to get in.
The ride to the Christmas tree farm doesn’t take long, once we’re free of the outer city traffic, and the ride is mostly along rural roads where the scenery sprawls out on either side like a winter wonderland. I tuck Pippa in under my arm, and enjoy the feeling of having her there, and the relief that things feel as natural as they ever have.
I was a bit concerned, after Lexi told me that she’d told Pippa about Sophie, that things might be a bit awkward. After I chewed Lexi out—and then apologized for having done so—I managed to compose myself a bit and reason that Pippa really isn’t the type to compare herself to a dead girl, or to be jealous or uncomfortable about something like that. I guess that’s why I’m able to think about the fact that I’m falling in love with her—even if I can’t bring myself to speak about it out loud, yet, to the person who deserves to hear it most.
We pull into the farm and get out, and we’re greeted by a middle-aged, rugged-faced lady who emerges from a small, fairy-lit cabin and shakes our hands enthusiastically with a big, broad smile. The happy little melody of Frosty the Snowman floats out of the open cabin door behind her.
“Heeey!” she says, “I’m Sara, and I own the place. Let’s get you two lovebirds a tree, shall we? First Christmas together? I can smell new love, me. Lovely thing, it is. Now, follow me.”
Having been introduced to Sara without playing any role in the conversation whatsoever, we begin to traipse through the snow behind her. Pippa and I look at each other, and I can tell she’s struggling as much as I am not to laugh.
“Now then,” says Sara, after we’ve walked a good ways along a huge field, and past hundreds and hundreds of big, bushy Christmas trees. “Take your pick down there,” she says, pointing down one row of trees. “Any one you like. It’s a great batch this year.”
I can hear wheels on gravel in the distance, and it seems to be Sara’s cue to go off and give herself another welcome chat.
“Give me a shout when you’ve picked one out and I’ll get one of the guys to come and chop for you,” she calls. “Enjoy!”
And just like that, Pippa and I are left alone.
“I like the green ones,” she says, and I snort a laugh.
“Well I like the ones made of wood, so how are we going to choose?”
We stroll down the row a little way, looking up and down the trees that are all standing there, waiting to be picked. I stop near a sickly looking, bent little tree and tilt my head. I can’t help it. Lexi always hates the trees I pick out, but there’s something about having all this choice and picking the most scrawny, pine-bare tree that tickles me.
SPLAT.
I feel it hit square between my shoulder blades and straighten. I know exactly what it is before I turn around and see Pippa standing there, laughing, packing together a second snowball with her gloved hands.
“Step away from the scrawny tree!” she says, holding the snowball up in one hand, ready to launch. “Strict orders from Lexi. Hands up!”
She’s enjoying this way too much.
“Stop,” I say, putting my hands up. “Don’t shoot!”
A peal of joyful laughter hits me just a split-second before the second snowball does.
“You little—” I say, leaning down to grab a handful of snow. I hear her squeal and look up to see her running away. I launch and miss, my snowball crumbling against a large tree trunk.
“Come back here!” I call, following the sound of her laughter.
I round a tree that sounds like it’s giggling, and the first hint I get that she’s waiting for me is a snowball smacking me on the side of my head. Little bits of snow cling to my hair and start to melt, dripping down the side of my face.
“You’re in for it, Pip!” I call. I bend down to add a bit more snow to my snowball, and stalk after her, entirely focused on payback.
I can’t hear her laughing any more, and when I step out into the space between two rows of trees, I can see why.
She’s on the floor on one knee, doubled over, holding her stomach.
“Pippa!” I call, tossing my snowball aside. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I get down beside her, my hand on her back, leaning down to search her face. She’s pale as can be and her whole face is screwed up with pain.
“What happened?”
She groans and takes a deep breath.
“Stomach pain,” she says, through gritted teeth. “It’ll be alright in a minute.”
Every synapse in my body fires at once. Concern and fear and anger flood through me. “It’ll be alright” are the very same words I heard from Sophie, time after time after time, before she finally went to see a doctor.
“We’re going to a doctor,” I tell Pippa. There’s that edge to my voice again, but I don’t care. I need her to look after herself. I need to look after her. And I’m not going to take no for an answer.
To my surprise, she doesn’t argue with me. She blows out a steady breath from pursed lips, and nods. I help her to her feet and hold out my arm, which she takes without thinking about it.
I slow my stride and take my time, making sure she can easily keep up without straining herself, and we walk slowly back toward the car, along the rows and rows of trees.
“Nothin’ you fancied?” says Sara as we pass. I shake my head to her and wave, not lingering to explain.
We’re almost back at the car. Dev sees us coming and gets out, opening the back door for us. Just as he looks over, I hear a gasp and I feel Pippa go down again beside me, her grip on my arm tightening as she tries to stay on her feet. In my peripheral vision, I see Dev start quickly toward us, and I turn into Pippa, letting her grab around my neck to hold herself up. She’s whimpering and panting, and I feel utterly, utterly helpless.
“What’s wrong?” says Dev, arriving beside us.
“I don’t know,” I tell him, leaning down to lift Pippa into my arms and carry her the rest of t
he way. “But we’re going to the emergency room.”
She doesn’t protest about me carrying her. She looks completely miserable, now, her face contorted with pain I don’t know how to ease. Dev runs on ahead to open the car, and together, the three of us manage to get Pippa into the back seat.
It’s the longest ride of my life, and Pippa cries out in pain every few minutes. I don’t know how to help her, so I just hold her gently, trying not to make things worse, and feeling impotent as I shush pathetic, soothing sounds at her, and tell her we’ll be there soon.
Dev pulls into the emergency bay, and we both help Pippa into the hospital. As the slightly stale, medicinal smell of the place hits me, a thousand old unwanted memories come flooding back, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from being overwhelmed by them.
Not again. Please, not again.
“WE NEED A DOCTOR!” I scream, wildly, as we round the corner to the reception desk.
Pippa
We’ve been here for an hour and I haven’t seen a doctor yet. I’m sick of nurses asking me questions about my medical history and admin staff asking me questions about my insurance and address, and I’m sick of this stupid pain that keeps coming in waves, hitting me like a truck every time and then fading away to leave me feeling exhausted and scared. Thank god for Aiden. And Dev.
Dev has texted Valerie for me, since my phone is in some lockbox somewhere with the rest of my stuff, and Aiden hasn’t left my side since we got here. He’s answered every question he can on my behalf, and poured me water from the dispenser a couple of times, insisting I drink.
“You’re…” says one nurse, who seems particularly put out that this hot adonis is here, answering all the questions she asks me.
“Her boyfriend,” he says, and despite the waves of pain and the fear I’m feeling, I get a little thrill out of that.
“My boyfriend, huh?” I ask, when she’s gone.
“You’re goddamn right,” he says, nodding. He looks at me.
I know I’m a mess. My hair is stuck to my forehead, my clothing has been pulled and prodded by all the nurses in turn, and I’m pale as a ghost. But so is he. He looks tense from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and I guess that it has something to do with Sophie.
“Gosh, how romantic,” I tease, trying to make him feel a little better.
It must work, because he shakes his head at me and leans in, using his fingers to un-stick the hair from my face. “I think it’s your ability to be sarcastic in even the most dire circumstances that I like about you most,” he says, and I grin.
“Okay, boyfriend.”
The curtains flash open, and Valerie bursts in through them.
“Pip!” she shouts, heading right over and throwing her arms around me. Aiden just about manages to get out of the way.
“Oh my god, are you alright? What’s wrong? What happened? What can I do?” she asks, rapid-firing questions at me. “I ditched the office as soon as I got the message.”
“It’s alright,” I say, and she finally stops squeezing me, but she stays bent over me, her hands on my upper arms. “I’ve just been having some stomach pains. The nurse told me the doctor will be in shortly.”
“Valerie?”
Aiden’s voice makes both of us turn toward him. He’s staring at Valerie with a look of utter confusion, that she returns as soon as she sees him. There’s a long moment of silence, where the only sound is the distant beeping of medical monitors and the bustle of the emergency room just beyond the curtains.
Valerie looks at me, then back at Aiden.
Aiden looks at me, then back at Valerie.
“Oh my God,” they say in unison. They each lift their hands and extend a forefinger to point at each other. “You’re…”
It’s like something out of a comedy movie, and I’m just sitting here, watching the surreal scene play out before me.
“Oh, my God!” says Valerie again. She laughs and slaps her hand to her forehead. “Of course. Aiden. Moved to NYC. Lawyer. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together.”
“Uhh… hello?” I say, looking from one to the other of them, still clueless.
“He’s my boss!” Valerie says, with disbelief written all over her face. “You’re dating my boss, Pip.”
Aiden’s face splits into a wide grin and he laughs, too. I’m just about to burst into laughter when another pain hits me right in the gut. It feels like something is squeezing right around my middle, digging knives into me at the same time.
They’re both on edge immediately.
“Okay, it’s a joke that a doctor hasn’t been in here yet,” I hear Aiden say, before he disappears out of the cubicle. Valerie rubs my back while I cringe my way through the wave of pain, and just as I’m recovering, Aiden returns with a doctor in tow. By the look on her face, Aiden has been… firm, in his request that I be seen.
“Alright,” says the doctor. “If you two can step out to the waiting room while I examine Ms. Long, I’ll have someone fetch you when we’re done here.”
Neither of them look eager to leave, but I assure them it’s fine and they both go out. I can hear their fading conversation as they go, talking about how small a world it is.
“Alright,” says the doctor, again, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Now, Phillippa. I’m Dr. Sarah James. Sarah is fine. Abdominal pain can be a tricky symptom to get to the bottom of. I’m just going to have a feel around and see if we can find any particularly tender spots. I need you to tell me if anything gives you undue pain. Especially if it’s a similar pain to the one you’ve been experiencing, alright? If you could just lay down and lift your top for me, please.”
I nod and lay down, pulling my top up to just under my bra, and my pants down to just below my tummy. She begins feeling around, first just beneath my ribs on one side, then the other, and then a little lower. I feel her hands pause and watch her face change to a small frown. Her fingers move again, a little lower. She presses, pauses, then look up to my face.
“Just a moment, Phillippa,” she says, and slips out of the curtains. She returns a moment later with a trolley that has a screen and a keyboard, and a long, coiled wire attached to some sort of wand.
“Just a little cold and wet now, Phillippa,” she says, and squirts some sort of gel onto my stomach.
“Pippa,” I say, a little annoyed at the repeated use of my full name. I usually only hear that when my mother is disappointed about something I’ve done, and being annoyed at least half-distracts me from the rising panic I can feel behind my sternum as I realize that it’s an ultrasound machine. She keeps the screen facing away from me, and I manage to convince myself that she’s found some sort of huge tumour that’s about to do me in.
“Mmm,” the doctor says, pressing the wand around on different parts of my abdomen. “Okay. I just want a second opinion, Pippa,” she says, and I stare at her and numbly nod. I wish Aiden or Valerie were here.
Again she leaves the cubicle, and again she returns, this time with another doctor in tow—a man in scrubs who looks harried and tired.
“Just here,” says Dr. James, pressing the wand thing against my stomach again. The other doctor doesn’t even look at me. He looks at the screen and tilts his head one way, then the other as the wand moves about and cold jelly is spread all over my abdomen.
“Mmm,” he says, much the same way Dr. James did a moment ago. “Yes, definitely.”
“Thank you,” says Dr. James, and the other doctor leaves the room.
“Is it bad news?” I ask.
“Well,” she answers, and I can tell she’s trying to be gentle and diplomatic. “I suppose that depends on you, really. You can clean up. Thank you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, taking the paper towel from her and wiping the residual gel from my tummy.
“Well, there’s no way to break this to you gently, Pippa,” she says, waiting for me to rearrange my clothing. She sits on the edge of the bed and places her hand on my arm. My heart is thundering
in my chest all of a sudden. This is the sort of bedside manner that’s rehearsed at med school for a terminal diagnosis, surely.
“It looks like you’re in labor.” Her words sound soggy, like I’m hearing them through a soaked sponge.
“What?” I snort the word out, half-laughing.
“There is a fully grown baby in your abdomen and it looks like it’s coming out very soon,” she says, in a measured, plain tone. “I can’t be certain that you’re in active labor right now, but you’re definitely near term, so we’ll get you down to the maternit—”
“No there’s not,” I tell her, sitting bolt upright. She looks at me with a neutral expression, as though she’s waiting for me to go on. I don’t disappoint. “There is not a baby in my abdomen!” I insist. “There can’t be. How can there be? I haven’t even had sex since…”
“About nine months ago?” she offers.
I feel like the entire world has just crashed down on me. Like every atom in the known universe is suddenly putting pressure on my body from every angle, all at once. March. Nine months ago it was March. And I was on a ski holiday. With Aiden.
“But I’ve been getting periods,” I tell her.
“Pippa,” she says, patiently. “Some women get what seem like periods when they’re pregnant, some women get no morning sickness or other signs of pregnancy. It’s very rare that this happens, but I can assure you that it does, and that it’s happening to you. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you may be giving birth in a matter of hours, and you need to be ready for it. Will I tell your friends for you?” she asks.
I don’t know what the hell to say to that. I’m trying to comprehend the fact that I’m in labor. With a human baby. Inside me. I haven’t even begun to wrap my head around it yet. So I just nod, mutely, and sit there as she leaves the cubicle, trying to absorb the shock wave from the bombshell that’s just been dropped into my life.
Surprise Baby for Christmas Page 9