by Freya Barker
“Pipsqueak,” I chastise her. “You can’t do that to a kid who’s got more wrinkles than an elephant’s scrotum.”
“Jared!” My sister is predictably insulted, but the doctor can’t hold back a chuckle, so he’s next in line for a dirty look.
I’m teasing her, of course. Just a way to cover up the emotions bubbling up when she gives the little worm our father’s name.
Jordy and I lost our parents in a car accident a month after Jordy graduated college. It had been a hard blow for both of us, but for Jordy, who was just about to start her life, the loss was devastating. I’m actually not surprised, giving her son our father’s name was a way to keep his memory alive. Plus, my dad was a great, compassionate man. The boy could do worse than to be named after him.
I wink at her and see her mouth twitch. She knows I’m just kidding.
“The wrinkles will smooth out with a few days,” the doctor quickly covers his faux pas as he scuttles toward the door. “We’ll keep you overnight, and I’ll check in with you tomorrow morning to see how your night was, before we send you home.” Before either of us can respond, he’s out the door.
Just a minute later, the same nurse comes back in and reaches out to take Ole from my hold. I have to admit, I’m a little reluctant to let him go, but the next moment, I’m ready to bail.
“Get ready, Mom, your little one needs to nurse,” she says to my sister with a smile. I’m at the door in a flash. I’ve already seen enough of my sister to scar me for life.
“Where are you going?” Jordy pipes up, when she spots me heading for the hills.
“Just gonna see if I can find a coffee somewhere.” Lame excuse and my sister knows it, but the nurse unwittingly comes to my rescue.
“There’s a Timmie’s in the lobby. It should still be open.”
I mumble my thanks and pull open the door to make my exit, but not before my sister fires off a parting shot.
“You know you’ll be seeing a lot more of this at home, right?”
I wave my hand over my shoulder, without looking back, and let the door slam shut behind me. She’s right. Of course. But for now, I’m happy to escape.
Besides, it gives me an excuse to see where Mia took off to. I haven’t seen her since she beelined it out of the room.
I’m not sure, but I could’ve sworn she was crying when she did.
SIX
Mia
Breathe.
I have to breathe.
The lights, the sounds, bodies around me, it’s building into a crescendo that threatens to scatter my carefully controlled fragments. Someone touches me—says something—it makes me jump. I force my feet to keep moving. All I see is the lobby doors, it’s like staring down on a hurricane; blinding chaos everywhere around except in the eye of the storm, where all is calm. The doors. If I can only get outside.
The swoosh of automatic doors opening is followed by the touch of a breeze on my face. I still don’t stop, not even when I hear the screeching of brakes and a loud car horn. Not until the lights and the noise dim in my peripheral vision and I can pull fresh air into my lungs. Sanctuary.
I have no real concept of time passing, but know it has when my body feels cold. I left my flannel shirt on a chair in Jared’s living room and am only wearing shorts and a tank. When my teeth start chattering, I know I have to move. My joints groan when I get up from where I’m curled up against the trunk of a large tree. I absentmindedly brush at twigs and needles that are sticking to my body, as I move toward the lights shining through the brush.
Apparently I didn’t get too far. The copse of trees I step out of is directly opposite the hospital’s circular drive, outside the entrance. My head is quiet again, my heart rate back to normal, but my body is chilled to the core. The nights up north can still be deceptively chilly this time of year. Still, I don’t particularly want to head back into the hospital, where I know I’ll be warm. Instead, I take a seat on a bench in front of the doors, pull up my legs and wrap my arms around them, while I come up with a plan.
I want to go home, but since I came in the ambulance, I don’t have transportation. The only person I know enough to call is Rueben, but I’m not so sure if that’s appropriate. If I had my wallet I could call a cab, but I don’t.
I’ve just about decided my only option is to go back inside, and find Jared to see if he can help, when the doors slide open and the subject of my thoughts walks out, looking around like he’s searching. Then his eyes land on me.
“There you are. I was wondering where you’d taken off to.”
I try for a smile as he walks over and sits down beside me, a questioning look on his face.
“I’m kind of stuck here,” I admit. “I have no way to get home.”
“Right. Of course,” he says, slapping his palm to his forehead. “Let me run inside and let Jordy know I’m driving you home.” He gets up and moves toward the doors before he suddenly stops, turns, and walks back. “You’re freezing,” he points out, holding out his hand. “I’ve got a blanket in the trunk of my car. You can wait in there. I won’t be long.”
I don’t say anything, just put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet.
True to his word, it doesn’t take long for him to get back to the car, and I’m pretty toasty, wrapped in a fleece blanket in the passenger seat. He gets in behind the wheel and immediately turns the engine on, eyeing me as he does so.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmmm,” I hum, without really saying anything. “How is your sister?” I’ve had some time to digest that little tidbit of information that stuck, even in the midst of my panic attack. Rueben’s words coming back to haunt me. I did jump to conclusions—the wrong ones—and even though I never really spoke on my misconception, I still feel the urge to be apologetic. The fact the pretty brunette is his sister really messes with my preferred view of him; as a philandering, spoiled, rich boy. It certainly did the job suppressing my somewhat unhealthy fascination with him.
I study his features and notice this close up, that his hair is not all dark, but actually has a good amount of gray streaking. He’s also not as young as I thought he was, with prominent grooves around his mouth and forehead, and fine lines fanning out from his eyes; proof he laughs well, and often.
“She’s nursing,” he sighs, with a hint of revulsion. It tickles an unfamiliar giggle from my belly. I’ve seen that expression on his face, a few times over the past few hours, and had attributed it to the guy being a douchebag. Now I realize that he likely was uncomfortable having quite so much of his sister exposed. “You’re laughing at me,” he snaps, which only has me giggling harder. I can’t help it, this entire evening has been a little too much to wrap my head around all at once, and I’m coming a bit unravelled.
Jared starts up the car and starts driving, while I desperately try to get myself under control. To my horror, all I manage is to morph my hysterical snickering to a different kind of emotional release.
“Are you okay?” He asks the same question he did before, but this time I answer.
“N-no...”
“Christ...” I hear him hiss under his breath.
I turn my face to the side window, where the rugged Ontario landscape whips by unseen. I vaguely register the sound of the glove box opening, before a wad of tissues is pressed in my hands.
“Thanks,” I mumble, mortified.
The drive is silent, except for the occasional pathetic snivel that escapes me, and I’m relieved beyond belief when he turns onto my drive. The sight of my cottage at the bottom of the hill instantly settles me. An excited bark draws my eyes to Jared’s side of the inlet, where poor Griffin has noticed the car. Protective as he is, he immediately gets up from where he apparently was still curled up outside his house, and still barking, comes tearing around the little bay.
“Heyyy...good boy, Griffy,” I coo when he jumps up on me the moment I get out of the car, giving him a good rub. No sooner than Jared gets out of the car and Griffin beelines i
t to him. Traitor. I can hear him mumble praise to my dog as well.
This is a little awkward. Should I thank him? Apologize for my emotional behaviour? Run and hide inside the cottage? I’m still contemplating my options when I’m suddenly wrapped up in a set of strong arms. I almost disappear against his bulk, with my face pressed between his distinct pecs. Okaaaay...didn’t see that one coming, but I’ll roll with it.
“Thank you,” I hear his voice thick with emotion in my hair. “Without you, I...fuck...I don’t even want to think about that.”
“It was nothing.” My voice is muffled against his chest.
“It was not nothing,” he says firmly, setting me back by the shoulders. I’m eye to eye with his chest and have to tilt my head way back to see his face. “It was everything,” he emphasizes. “I don’t know you—your struggles—but I’m not blind. This cost you, so don’t minimize what it means to me.”
“Oh-okay,” I stammer when he gives me a sharp nod, before releasing me and making his way back over to the car, where he turns and gestures in the direction of the cottage.
“Get inside, Mia, before you get cold again.”
Like an automaton, I nod my head and do as he says. With the door open, Griffin comes barrelling in, undoubtedly looking for food. I turn for one last look as Jared raises a hand before he gets in his car, turns it around, and disappears over the hill.
I feed my dog, drink a glass of water, and without even turning on the lights, I shuffle to my bedroom where I collapse face first on the bed. My brain just can’t handle any processing tonight, and blissfully sleep takes me.
Jared
What a goddamn night.
I’m giving myself a headache, squinting as I eye the sides of the road for errant wildlife. It’s not uncommon for anything from fox to moose to step out into the road in these parts. I’m coming down from an adrenaline rush, the proportions of which I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. Not even on the ice during a Stanley Cup playoff game.
The letdown happened in Mia’s driveway, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t almost burst into tears right there. Christ. Almost made a fool of myself, but I meant every word I said, though. She’d seemed shell-shocked herself, sitting on that bench outside the hospital, big liquid eyes in a ghostly white face. She was shivering against the cold, and looked like she’d just crawled out of a haystack with all sorts of outdoor detritus stuck in her hair and to her clothes.
She didn’t say much other than to voice her wish to go home, but then proceeded to have what looked like a mini melt-down in the car. Probably coming down from the rush herself. Funny, she’d never shown any edge while helping Jordy. She’d been cool and collected through the whole ordeal, which had a distinct calming effect on me, too.
Movement from the corner of my eye has me slam the brakes, narrowly missing a nice-sized buck darting across the road. Fuck, that was close. I shift in my seat and lean a little closer over the steering wheel. Better keep my eyes on the road and my mind off my neighbour.
My phone starts vibrating in my pocket, just before the telltale ring of an incoming call hits my hands free. I hit the receive button on the steering wheel.
“Talk to me.”
“It’s me. Where are you?” Jordy’s tired voice fills the car.
“Halfway back to the hospital. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m about to crash. Ole’s fed and sleeping, and I’m about to doze off myself.” I wince at the reference to the baby nursing, but shove it down. Best get used to that. “I was thinking you should just go home and get some sleep,” she continues, chuckling softly. “May be the last chance you get for a decent night’s sleep for the next while.”
I pull over to the side, turning the car into a dirt drive to get off the road.
“You don’t want me to sit with you?”
“Nah,” she says dismissively. “Baby needs feeding every three hours. You wouldn’t get a lick of sleep and I have the nurses helping out tonight. It’s on you starting tomorrow, so I suggest you grab sleep while you can.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Go home, Jared. And thank you for everything. Love you.”
Before I have a chance to respond, she’s already ended the call. I run my hand over my head, noticing it’s probably time for a haircut. Cranking up the radio, I lower my window, and pull back onto the road in the direction I came from. Home it is.
-
A quick glance over to Mia’s cottage, when I roll down my own drive, shows the lights are all off. She must’ve gone straight to bed. My own body is shutting down at a rapid pace, and I feel like an old man when I drag myself from the car. My knee is aching more than usual. Another indication retiring after last year’s injury was probably the right decision.
I push open the front door—which I’d failed to lock earlier—noting once again how different things are here compared to the city life I’m used to. I’d never leave my condo without engaging the alarm and locking up tight. But then hardly anyone seems to know me here. No screaming fans or annoying stalkers. Life up North is much more laid back. Relaxed and peaceful. Although, as the reality of having a baby in the house is starting to settle in, we may be done with the peace for a bit. My nephew is loud.
By the time I roll into bed, I can barely keep my eyes open. My mind is not done yet, though. With my body relaxed, it seems to conjure up the events of the day. It had not been what I’d envisioned. I figured I’d have lots of time to drive Jordy to the hospital and hand her over to people who knew what the hell they were doing. I planned to make myself scarce with a paper and Timmie’s, and wait for someone to come tell me when the baby arrived. I wasn’t prepared to be taken by surprise, to be this hands on and right there when it all went down. It’s messy. It’s tough. And it’s a fuck of a lot more intense than I ever imagined. But it also gave me a deeper respect for women. Jordy’s strength and tenacity. Mia’s calm, her confidence and faith that Jordy would be able to pull it off.
I’ve had my share of pain, and I’d like to think I’m pretty tough as a defensive enforcer, but I tell you, even with years of practice and training; I still wouldn’t have been able to roll with the punches like these women did.
When I finally drift off, a smile on my face, my last thought is how blessed I am I got to share this experience.
SEVEN
Mia
“What do you mean, you delivered a baby?”
I smile as I listen to Steffie’s incredulous voice.
It’s been a few days, and other than a big gift basket with treats for me and the dog—which made me smile—that was delivered yesterday with a thank you card, I hadn’t seen much of my neighbours. The card was signed Jared, Jordy, and Ole, which I thought was really cute. They must have Scandinavian heritage, although I always thought of tall and blond, not tall and dark. At least Jared is tall.
Ole’s delivery had an impact on me. One I hadn’t quite been prepared for. It was a vivid reminder of how much I’d always loved my profession. A profession I didn’t realize I was missing so much. It’s such a powerful experience, not just the birth of a child, but the birthing process itself. And stealing an occasional snuggle with a newborn baby is the cherry on top.
I never got to snuggle with Jordy’s little one and I was craving it.
I’d been watching. I’d seen Jared’s car leave early the morning after and saw them come home in the early afternoon. Part of me wanted to go over and check up on Jordy and her little one, but instead I stayed hidden inside and buried myself in my new design project.
I hadn’t seen them at all yesterday, but this morning, while I was having my coffee on the porch, I watched Jared saunter outside in swimming shorts. I was mesmerized when he dropped his towel and stretched, before diving into the frigid lake. I found myself following his progress as he swam with his strong arms slicing the water. Realizing I was once again bordering on voyeurism, I resolutely got up and went inside.
When I
couldn’t concentrate on work because my mind kept wandering to the other side of the bay, I decided to call Steffie.
“My neighbour? The cute brunette? They were out on the water when she went into labour. I just happened by in my canoe.” I chuckle and I tell her how Jared had been so flustered, he’d forgotten how to start the engine when I found them.
“You miss it,” Steffie says when I finish my story, skipping over the panic attack that followed. It’s more a statement than an inquiry, and yet I feel compelled to answer.
“More than I thought,” I whisper, afraid to voice it out loud. “I miss the magic. I miss my sense of purpose; letting the moms feed off my calm and confidence, allowing them to start trusting the process. I miss the feeling of being there for someone when they need me. Being needed. And God, Steffie, I so miss my babies. He was so beautiful. Thirty-eight weeks and already so strong, so eager to make his presence known,” I ramble as emotions take over.
“Honey...” she commiserates, but I’m not done.
“I walked away from that, Steffie. My heart was in it and I walked away from it. It tore me apart when I couldn’t do it anymore. Now that I’ve tasted it again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Mia...” she tries again. “You took yourself out of the game when you realized your emotional struggles were affecting your job. To me that’s telling of the person you are. You don’t want to give less than your all, and that’s commendable. I always expected you to come back, honey. Not once did I think you wouldn’t one day be back delivering babies.”
“It’s been years!” I exclaim. “A decade. And I’m not better. I had another attack at the hospital. Was in such a state, I didn’t know where I was going.”
“I’m not saying for you to jump into anything,” Steffie soothes. “All I’m suggesting is that perhaps you should stop thinking your life is over, and start considering there’s plenty left to live. It’s not so bad to want something badly that is just out of reach. It just makes you work harder to get there.”