“Go to hell,” she whispered raggedly, trying to twist away from him.
Slowly, he let go of her arms. “You’re not going to tell me?”
She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him an icy look from cold, gray eyes.
He stepped back and without a word left the room.
Lauren sank to the floor slowly, listening as the shower down the hall started. “I’m sorry, Dale,” she whispered, her own guilt rising, overshadowing the hurt.
* * * * *
Lauren woke hours later, after losing herself in sleep. Dale hadn’t spoken a single word to her all night. It was early, before dawn, and the house was eerily silent. She knew, without even looking, he wasn’t there.
She found the note on the kitchen table.
Gone to New York. I’ll be back later in the week.
When I get back, you’re telling me who he is. Or I’ll find out myself.
You don’t want me finding him on my own, Lauren.
He hadn’t signed it, hadn’t written I love you.
“Look in the mirror, Dale,” she whispered, letting the note fall to the floor.
* * * * *
Later that day, Steve Young knocked on her door. “Dale called me earlier. He wants me to check in on you while he’s gone,” he said after following Lauren inside. “Feeling okay?”
“Yes.” Arching a brow at him, she asked, “Isn’t pediatrics your specialty?”
“That’s what I told Dale. But when there’s doctor next door, might as well take advantage of it,” he said, eyeing her color. She was a little pale. He took her wrist, reassured at the strong steady pulse. “Just don’t go into labor on me. I prefer taking care of them after they enter the world. Not while they’re doing it.”
Lauren smiled automatically, relieved when he let go of her hand.
“You’re certain you feel okay? You look pale.”
“Dale and I had a fight before he left.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and played it down. “Nothing important, but it kind of wore me out.”
Steve frowned. Nothing important. Dale hadn’t mentioned this trip before; he hadn’t known about it until Dale had called him from New York to ask if he’d check on Lauren while he was gone. “Is that why he left?”
“Of course not,” Lauren replied, the lie rolling easily from her tongue. “He had something come up that he needed to take care of.”
Steve left some time later, after watching her, making sure she was all right. She was as calm and as composed as she always was, distantly friendly, slightly aloof. He imagined that aloofness drove men crazy. If he didn’t desperately love his wife . . .
He certainly wouldn’t have left his pregnant wife alone, even with a doctor next door.
But then again, Alex didn’t have the demeanor that Lauren had. She didn’t have the calm look in her eyes that told the world, I can handle anything you throw at me, and more.
If any woman would be okay alone for a few days, pregnant or not, it was Lauren.
* * * * *
Lauren wasn’t okay.
Her back was aching, her head hurt, and her heart felt as though it were bleeding. She was so confused. He said he loved her. It felt like he loved her. But he had been dreaming of another woman.
“That’s just a man for you, sweetie,” Jenny said over the phone later that night. “Their brains are controlled by their gonads. I know it hurt, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
“It doesn’t mean he does love me either,” she said, pouting. She felt terrible, so completely unlike herself. But she didn’t say anything to Jenny. She wanted to talk, not cry on her friend’s shoulder.
She wanted to cry on Dale’s shoulder. She wanted Dale.
“Lauren, I’ve seen how he looks at you. He does love you. He’s crazy about you.”
“You think so?” Lauren asked tearfully.
“I know so. Shoot, even Mike noticed. He said something the other night about how Dale’s eyes got all glazed when he was talking about you, he was practically drooling just thinking about you. It was just a dream, Lauren. Dreams don’t have to mean anything.”
When she hung up a little later, she felt a little better.
After a warm bath and book, she settled into bed to sleep the night away. Dale was coming home day after next. The sooner the night passed, the sooner he’d be home.
She awoke in the gray hours before dawn, confused. The linens were wet.
Embarrassed, her first thought was that she had wet the bed. But when she flicked on the bedside light, she saw the sheet was streaked with blood. As though in a dream, she reached for the phone and called 911. She tried to get up, listening to the soothing voice of the dispatcher, but she could hardly move, for some odd reason, and getting out of bed was impossible.
The good doctor, who had checked on her shortly after nine, had been called to the hospital himself and missed the ambulance. His wife was out of town on business, so nobody saw as emergency workers were forced to break down the door to get in.
Distantly, as though she were watching it happen to somebody else, she felt her belly tighten, saw it happen, but it didn’t hurt her, didn’t disturb her.
Lauren had thought she would get through the whole thing without feeling any pain at all. But, half way to the hospital, pain ripped through her belly like fire, a startled cry bursting from her lips. Her labor had started and she was six weeks early and completely alone.
By the time she arrived at the hospital the pain wrenching through her was unbelievable. She had known it would hurt, had told herself she was prepared for it. It tore through her abdomen, ripped at her, and she cried out against it, arching her back, biting her dry lips. She had told herself that she could handle it.
Man, had she been wrong.
Another spasm gripped her, held her in its painful grasp. A nurse at her side spoke soothingly, telling her to keep breathing, yes, that’s good. Good, keep breathing. Distantly, she heard the doctor tell her not to push, not yet.
Hell, she wasn’t supposed to be pushing for over a month.
They had tried to stop the labor, but the baby wasn’t listening. He or she was ready to come now.
But I’m not ready, Lauren thought hysterically.
Oh, God, she prayed. God, where is Dale? Why isn’t he here?
But there was no answer, and Lauren hadn’t really expected one.
God only helped those who helped themselves.
A familiar voice echoed outside the door and Lauren rolled her eyes in that direction.
“By God, her husband isn’t here and she doesn’t have any family. She shouldn’t be alone!”
“Jenny…”
Just as she spoke, the slim redhead burst through the door and flew across the room. “Oh, honey,” Jennifer murmured, hugging her tightly. “Lauren, honey, are you okay?”
“The baby, Jenny, it’s too early-” her words were cut off with a gasp as another contraction seized her. “Dale!”
“Ma’am, you will have to wait outside.”
“She’s got a right to have someone with her,” Jenny snapped, tossing an icy glare at the nurse.
“If this were a normal birth, yes. But-”
“But nothing,” Jennifer interrupted. Vicious green eyes latched onto the nurse who had spoken. “I will not wait outside,” she enunciated. “I am staying right here, damn it, until either she tells me to go or her husband gets here.”
Dale…
Lauren grasped Jennifer’s hand as the pain receded. “Stay, Jenny. Please, stay. Don’t leave me alone.” The nurse was reaching for the phone to call security when Lauren whispered pleadingly, “I don’t want to be alone.” Her hand hovered over the phone, then dropped. What could it hurt? she wondered. With that thought, she left the room.
“You won’t be, Lauren. I’ll be right here, honey. Right here,” she promised, stroking her forehead. “I swear, I’ll be right here.”
“They tried to stop it,�
� she whispered, exhausted, needing to talk. She was so scared. And she wanted Dale. “Dale’s not here.”
“Mike’s at your house waiting for him.”
“…Not there. New York,” she murmured, slipping into sleep.
Finally, some of the medicine they were pouring into her veins was taking effect. The painkiller dulled the pain enough that she could rest a bit, but even in her exhaustion, she ached for Dale. “He’s gone, Jenn. He left me. Left me. Why does everybody always leave me?”
* * * * *
Dale answered the phone wearily. It wasn’t even dawn. The digital clock read three thirty two. A clerk murmured an apology before saying, “There’s a Dr. Young on the phone. He says it’s an emergency.” The bone deep weariness that had plagued him all day was gone, replaced by pure panic as he waited for the connection.
An agitated Steve came on the phone. “You’ve got to get home, Dale. She’s here at the hospital. I was called in to check on a patient in the ICU when she got here. She’s in labor.”
His hand closed convulsively over the handset. Quietly, shaken, Dale said, “That can’t be, Steve. She’s not due for six more weeks. She can’t be in labor. It’s too early.”
“I’m sorry, Dale. But that baby is coming now. I’ve called the airlines. You have a seat on the red eye. Gate 82. It leaves in less than an hour. Mike will meet you-”
The rest of Steve’s words went unheard. Dale had already thrown down the phone. Labor. She was in labor. And she was alone.
The next few hours took days. The short flight stretched on endlessly. Dale was out of his seat even before the flight attendant could speak. “Sir, you need to return to your seat-”
“My wife’s in labor, damn it,” he snapped, pushing past her to wait for the door to open.
He was in the terminal only seconds after the walkway was opened. He took the moving sidewalk in a loping run, ignoring the security officer that called after him and started chasing him.
He saw Mike pacing just beyond the security barrier and caught him by the lapels of his coat. “How is she?” he demanded roughly. “What’s going on?”
The sun was just barely touching the horizon, and the security officer saw panic in the eyes of the man he had been chasing. “Is there a problem here?”
Turning wide panicked eyes to the security guard, he said, “It’s too early.”
Confused, the officer looked at Mike. “His wife’s gone into premature labor, officer. She’s not due for almost two months.”
“I’ll get you a police escort,” he said, turning away. He had a wife and a daughter of his own. And a son who had died because he had come too soon.
“It’s too early,” he whispered numbly as Mike followed the wailing sirens. Red and blue lights flashed across his face, but he didn’t even notice. His terror stricken mind was imagining Lauren, the pain she was in, the fear she felt. She was alone.
He had left her alone.
“What in the hell were you thinking, running off to New York with your wife pregnant?” Mike burst out, unable to stop himself. His friendly, affable face was cold and ruddy with anger.
“She’s not due until February,” he said numbly. He frowned when Mike took the exit for the downtown hospitals. “What are we doing here? She’s having the baby at Floyd.”
“Sorry, pal. She’s having it in Louisville. They have to be close to the NICU at Kosair,” Mike replied. “They flew her over right after the doctor finished examining her at Floyd. Steve tried to tell you that but you had already hung up.”
“NICU?” Dale repeated, numb, confused.
“Neonatal intensive care unit.”
“Something’s wrong with the baby?” His hands fisted uselessly on his jean clad thighs. His eyes, blind with panic, turned to Mike.
“Easy, Dale. They don’t know. The baby’s early, not due yet. Its lungs may not be fully matured,” Mike explained. “They just want to be closer to the children’s hospital if the baby needs treatment.”
“Why would the baby need treatment? Why would they think it might?” He reached across the seat, clutching at Mike’s coat as he slowed, then stopped, in front of the hospital.
Taking a deep breath, Mike calmly said, “Listen to me, Dale. We need to get inside. Lauren needs you. She should be okay, both she and the baby. But the baby is premature. It may not be able to breathe on its own. The lungs are one of the final things to develop. They need to have access to people who can help if they need it. They won’t take any chances.
“And…and the baby is breech. It hasn’t turned fully, yet. Lauren needs better than what Floyd has. The doctors wanted her at Nortons, with better access to specialists, and they need the baby near Kosair.”
“Breech,” he repeated, his voice almost soundless.
Breech.
He knew what that word meant.
If they couldn’t turn the baby, both she and the baby could die.
I shouldn’t have left her, Dale thought bitterly as they took the stairs to the labor and delivery floor. I never should have left her. “They’re certain she’s in labor?” he finally asked as they burst through the stairwell door.
“Yeah. She may have already had it by now. Jenny hasn’t called in nearly an hour.” His hand went reflexively to the cell phone at his belt, as if touching it would bring a call to let them know everything was fine, it hadn’t been labor after all.
“Why don’t they stop it? They can stop labor, right?” he asked, hopefully, desperately. It was too early.
“No. They can’t stop it, Dale. I know one of the nurses who works the floor. She broke several federal regulations, but Grace told me that Lauren’s water broke and her blood pressure’s skyrocketing. If it was just the blood pressure, they could deal with it. But once the water breaks, the baby has to be delivered. They have to get the baby to turn, and then deliver it. If Lauren doesn’t have the baby soon, they’ll have to do a cesarean.”
“Cesarean? Like cut the baby out?” he asked faintly. Lauren, under a knife, on a surgical table? Fuck, he could lose them both. Why did it sound so much safer outside the hospital?
Dale was starting to feel queasy.
“That’s generally how it’s done,” Mike drawled, rolling his eyes. Then he caught a good look at Dale’s white, panicked face and he sighed. “They have to take the baby, Dale. They’ve got no choice.”
Her water had broken. Breech. High blood pressure. Cesarean.
Dale pressed his fisted hands against his eyes. “Do they know why she’s gone into labor?” he asked, voice rusty. Had he done it? The bathroom. His eyes closed and he remembered how he had fucked her on the floor, with her hands bound. And then again that night, dreaming of some woman who didn’t really matter, not compared to how much he loved Lauren. And then, after fucking her like a wild animal, he up and left, leaving her alone and pregnant and, oh, shit, this was all his fault.
“Nobody knows why women go into labor early. There probably isn’t a reason,” Mike replied as they took the long hallway in ground eating strides.
Dale’s response to this was a self-directed curse. Mike had to murmur agreement.
He slowed then, stopping before a closed door. Behind it, they heard Lauren cry out. Dale was ready to lunge into the room but before he could, Mike barred the doorway. “I know you two had a fight, Dale. I’m not saying this is your fault, but, man, you shouldn’t have left her.”
“Get out of my way,” Dale ordered, shoving against the body barring his way.
“Not until you calm down,” Mike told him, shoving back. “Damn it, I know what I’m talking about. She can’t see you upset like this. Whether or not you two fighting had anything to do with this doesn’t matter now. She matters. Now calm down. Seeing you like this will do her more harm than good.”
“Back off!”
“Calm down,” Mike said, his sturdy boxer’s frame going tense and ready. “I know what I’m talking about. You have got to calm down.”
Dale reared
back, ready to toss the shorter man aside when the Mike grabbed his jacket, pivoted and slammed him into the wall. Dale’s head cracked against the wall and his vision swam dizzily for a brief second. “Now listen to me, you stupid son of a bitch. Your wife is in there, scared to death and hurting. Are you going to be there for her? Or act even more stupidly than you already have and scare her even more?”
Dale stared into the calm hazel eyes of his friend, seeing his own panicked reflection there. Up until he started dating Lauren, he’d spoken to the quirky, stocky nurse on a rare basis. Since then, he had become a good, close friend, one he trusted. One he could count on.
Staring into those glaring, angry eyes, he shuddered and fell back against the wall, the anger draining out of his body. No place for it, not here. Not now. Forcing a calming breath deep into his lungs, he held it briefly, letting it out in a shuddering sigh. He scrubbed his hands across his gritty eyes and nodded. “I’m okay, Mike. I need to see my wife.”
* * * * *
I should have told him, Lauren thought as another contraction tightened her stomach. She could feel it more this time and knew the medicine was wearing off. The nurse had told her it wouldn’t be long now. They had finally gotten the baby turned, and now they were waiting for her to finish the delivery.
Jenny brushed her hair back from her face. “I should have told him,” Lauren said aloud.
“Yes, you should have. But this isn’t your fault,” Jenny said quietly.
Yes, it is, Lauren thought sadly. It is. All my fault.
But that didn’t mean Dale and the baby should have to pay for it.
Four minutes went by and another contraction had her arching her back against it. “Felt that one,” she muttered, panting to catch her breath. “Dale…” she whispered mournfully, closing her eyes against the emotion and pain that arced through her. When the contraction ended, she sagged back against the pillow, whispered for ice and zoned out.
Exhausted, she barely flinched when the door flew open, crashing into the wall. Nurses rose, issuing orders that weren’t heeded, requests to be quiet and careful, demands on the intruder’s identity.
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