“Not yet.” Jack smiles, but she isn’t reassured. She looks around the hospital room at the blinking monitors. “I should’ve done a water birth,” she says.
“That’s his heartbeat.” Jack points to a monitor, and Laurie watches Buddy’s EKG line move up and down.
The idea of Buddy being hooked up to a fetal monitor while he’s still waiting to make his appearance is disconcerting. They say it doesn’t hurt him, but how would they know? What is Buddy thinking about right now? Is he scared of the contractions? Or has he figured it out—“finally I’m getting out of here”?
“They told me to take a nap,” Jack says. “Like I could sleep.” He laughs, his voice higher-pitched than usual. “Do you need anything?”
“My iPod.”
“You should’ve let me do your playlist.”
“I’m not sure Viking metal is how I want to bring Buddy into the world.” Laurie feels the beginning of another contraction. The contractions are like period cramps, but deeper, more intense.
Jack notices. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“Don’t talk about pain in a negative way,” Laurie says. “You need to help me embrace it, make it a positive part of the birthing experience.”
“Yeah, I heard that in your class, but it sounded like bullshit.”
Laurie frowns at Jack. “I want to believe it’s true, that I can ride these contractions like waves in the ocean, but you might be right. Wait a minute.” She remembers something. “Before I passed out, did you say something about your parents? They’re on their way?”
Jack sighs. “I was hoping you forgot. I’m hoping they get lost. Or maybe there’ll be a gigantic traffic jam and you can have the baby and get home before they show up.”
“What are the chances of that?”
Jack forces a smile. “What are the chances of anything?”
***
Laurie’s car is in the driveway, but she doesn’t answer the door. Alan is standing on the front porch with flowers, Thai takeout, and the bag of newly wrapped baby gifts. Jack’s car isn’t here. He could be at class. Unless he’s moved out. Oh well, more Thai food for Alan and Laurie.
He looks in the living room window. The last time he was here, he was sneaking around like a criminal. But he is bold now—bold and reformed and soon to be reunited with his wife.
He rings the doorbell again and waits. No sound from inside. She could be asleep, but it’s early. He can’t hear the TV, so he doesn’t think she’s in the den. Has something happened? She was reaching for a mixing bowl on the top shelf in the kitchen, and she fell and can’t get to her phone? It’s not breaking in if it’s his house.
When he walks inside, everything is quiet—no TV, no music, everything is still.
“Laurie?”
Silence. He checks the kitchen first, but Laurie isn’t there. She’s not in the den or the bedrooms or the bathrooms. That’s good, he tells himself. She isn’t hurt; she’s fine. She’s just not home. Maybe she’s having dinner with Grace. Alan could call Grace; he reaches for his cell, remembers he doesn’t have it. When he goes back in the kitchen, he notices Laurie’s Trader Joe’s reusable shopping bag on the kitchen table. It’s the one with surfboards and always makes Alan think of mai tais. He glances inside.
Chocolate-covered pretzels, one bag already opened. Some prosciutto, mozzarella cheese, pizza dough. Why aren’t the perishables in the refrigerator? Laurie is a maniac about putting away food, whisking leftover cooked chicken from the counter into Tupperware and refrigerating it immediately, “So we don’t drop dead of food poisoning.” It’s not like her to leave food out.
He looks around the kitchen—except for the Trader Joe’s bag, everything seems normal.
He goes in the bedroom again. Did she leave behind any clues? There’s a printed list on the bedside table. At the top it reads, “Birthing Bag.” There’s a check mark beside it. Alan opens the closet door—the Ed Hardy carry-on bag is gone.
***
“You’d think they’d have a TV in your room,” Jack says to Laurie.
“You’d think somebody facing a big exam would be studying for it.”
“I’m prepared. Plus I’ve got more adrenaline now because of the baby, so I’m extra confident.”
“You don’t want to be overconfident.”
“If you make me paranoid about being overconfident, I’ll flunk.”
“No, you’re going to make at least an A,” she says. “Or something higher than an A, if that exists. Do you want to talk about heresy some more? I can relate, since I feel like I’m being roasted on a spit.”
A nurse with bright blue eye shadow opens the door.
“Good news. The grandparents are here,” she says to Jack. “They’re in the waiting room. I’m sure you want to see them.”
Jack looks at Laurie. “I’m being roasted on a spit too,” he says.
***
Alan doesn’t like to pray out loud. Except in church. Except now when he’s driving over the hill to the hospital. “I made some mistakes, God, I admit it,” he says. “Some real whoppers. But I’ll change. Please let Laurie be okay. Laurie and the baby.”
He’s driving badly; if he gets pulled over, he’ll be arrested because they’ll think he’s drunk. Not like those scenes in movies where kindly cops escort sweaty, expectant fathers to the hospital, lights flashing, sirens blaring. No, Alan will be handcuffed, sentenced to life in prison, no chance of parole. He’ll never meet baby Buddy and spend the rest of his life as Big Al’s bitch.
He called the hospital from the landline in the house to confirm Laurie is there. The nurse says she’s doing fine. But is that what she tells everybody? What else would she say? “Your wife’s at death’s door, the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck, and the baby’s vestigial tail—well, whoops, not so vestigial, it’s three feet long, but no worries; perhaps he’ll grow up to be a gymnast and his tail will come in handy on the high bar”?
Suppose Laurie tells him to go away? She doesn’t need him; she’s got Jack. Why would she need Alan? Because he is her husband, dammit. And to hell with the genetic component, the specimen switch—he is going to be a father.
He rolls that around in his brain. He’s driving to the hospital where his wife is in labor. And in a few hours, he’ll be holding his child.
His wife. His child.
“I’m going to be a father,” he says. Not noticing the thunk thunk sound of his flat tire.
***
Jack’s parents aren’t sitting; they’re pacing, and Jack has a moment where he thinks about running away—away from his parents, out of the hospital, out of Los Angeles. He could hitch a ride, hop on a train—do people still hop on trains? Is there a train running anywhere near Cedars-Sinai Hospital?
When his parents turn to him, he sees they’re not alone. Megan is standing between them. When she notices Jack, she runs over and kisses him.
“You must be scared shitless,” she says.
***
Contractions are about grammar, Laurie thinks. You eliminate one letter, add an apostrophe, and squish the words together. Voila, a contraction. Do not becomes don’t. They are becomes they’re. What do they have to do with having a baby? Laurie was taught in Lamaze about contractions and muscle groups, and yes, labor is painful, but women continue to have children over and over again, so how painful could it be?
They left out the part that explains how labor feels like dogs chewing on your entrails. How contractions build slowly, not bad at first, and then they come faster and stronger and you are thinking, Okay, I can handle this one, and then there is the peak and Laurie thinks dogs chewing your entrails might feel better. She could ask the nurse her opinion, but she is too busy screaming.
“You’re doing great, Laurie,” the nurse says.
You are, Laurie wants to correct her. If I get t
hrough this, contractions will never be part of my life again. I won’t ever use a contraction again.
She corrects herself. I will not.
***
When Alan pulls into the hospital parking lot, the attendant shakes his head. “You really screwed up that rim, dude.” Alan nods at him. He couldn’t be bothered to change the tire. How badly could he screw up his car anyway? He got used to the thunking sound after a mile or so and then when the rubber wore away, the sound of metal on pavement. I wonder if I’m making sparks, he thought.
“You got everything?” the attendant calls out to him as he starts to get out of the car.
“Thanks,” Alan says, and he reaches back into his car to get Laurie’s presents.
***
“Your parents are fantastic,” Megan says to Jack. “Why didn’t you tell me how fantastic they are?”
Jack meets his mother’s eyes. He’s expecting some sort of death ray that will turn him to salt or melting ectoplasm, but she’s smiling at him—a gentle smile, nothing insidious behind it. So far.
“Subhra called us,” his mother says. She shakes her head. Jack’s not sure how to interpret the shake—disappointment? Resignation?
“Subhra called me too. She’s really bummed she can’t come,” Megan tells Jack. “A doctor, whoa.” Megan squeezes Jack’s mother’s arm. “Anjali told me all about her.”
Megan is calling Jack’s mother by her first name. Why does it feel as if the world is about to end?
“Subhra filled us in. On everything. You should have let us know about your situation,” his mother says.
Situation. That’s what his mother is going to call it? He looks over at his father.
“Your mother’s right. We would have been happy to assist in any way.” Jack’s father nods at Jack.
“I wasn’t sure how to explain it.”
“You know you can always tell us anything.” And before he can say anything, his mother is throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. For a small woman she’s strong, and he bets she could crush his ribs if she wanted. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’re here.”
***
Laurie is in a cave. It is not a friendly Flintstones cave; it is more like the one in the movie where the guy is trapped by a rock and has to cut off his arm. When she saw the movie, she did not understand how anyone could ever be pushed to that point. Oh, but now I get it, James Franco. Of course you cut off your arm, you would have cut off your leg or your head and that is probably why they do not have any knives in delivery rooms because they are well aware that women in labor would happily saw away at any body part they could get their hands on, they would do anything to lessen the pain.
“How’re you doing, Laurie?” the nurse asks. “Would you like some more ice chips?”
An ice pick. That could work. “Yes,” she says. “I would very much like an ice pick.”
***
Alan is directed to the waiting room; a nurse will speak with him and take him to Laurie. He’s not surprised to see Jack but is surprised to see Jack embracing a petite Indian woman. She has short, black hair and she’s wearing khaki pants and a navy turtleneck. A man stands nearby; he’s tall, like Jack, slender and handsome, in jeans and a Stanford sweatshirt.
Megan spots Alan first. She pulls Jack away from his mother. She whispers to Jack, but Alan can hear her. “Red alert, creepy stalker husband finally showed.”
“Hello.” Alan waves, awkward with all the things in his arms. Everyone is looking at him as if he’s going to say something profound. “I’ve got Thai food,” he says.
Before anyone responds, a nurse with blue eye shadow appears. “Laurie is getting lonely. She could use her birth coach.”
Alan doesn’t say anything. Neither does Jack. They look at each other for a minute, not sure what to do.
Alan hands the food and gifts to Megan, reaches for Jack’s elbow. “That’s us,” he says.
Jack looks as if he’s about to protest, but instead he follows Alan.
***
Laurie is thinking about pushing. Thinking about pushing will help her stop thinking about contractions. She is trying to remain positive. Well, as positive as she can possibly be, especially in this delightful position, her legs spread wide, the view on one hand Penthouse pornographic, on the other, just another day in the life of Dr. Liu and the nurses. Laurie already is sure she is making medical history and will end up featured on Inside Edition. “Go on, Buddy,” she says to the baby. “Come out with feathered wings. So far everything else has been extraordinary. You do not want to disappoint anyone with some kind of boring, typical birth, do you?”
She is still not using contractions. Scary.
“Some people are here to see you,” Dr. Liu says, and Laurie thinks he means the team from Inside Edition. “Pardon me,” she will say to the news crew. “I do not usually meet people with my legs wide open.”
Alan appears by the hospital bed. He reaches for Laurie’s arm, but it’s taped to the side for the IV. He settles for patting her hand. What can he say to make her smile, make her glad to see him? “Pretty funny, running into you in a place like this,” he tells her.
A stupid joke, that figures, Laurie thinks. But it is Alan; he is here—beside her. A good thing. And someone else is speaking. Jack.
“Remember that scene in the Alien movie?” Jack says.
Laurie sees Alan shake his head at Jack. Do not talk about the Alien movie, not a good idea. Laurie wants to tell Alan that is okay, talk about the Alien movie. Should she tell him to get out of the way of the Inside Edition crew?
“It’s time to push,” Dr. Liu says.
It is time to push. Say it the right way. But pushing is the good part, what she has been waiting for, the part that means the pain is almost over, and when she is done with the pain, she will get the best reward ever.
Alan and Jack are holding her hands. “Hang in there, honey, you’re doing great,” Alan says.
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Jack tells her. “And vocalize. Huh huh huh,” he says to her.
“Huh, huh, huh,” Laurie repeats.
“Two birth coaches, how’d you get so lucky?” Dr. Liu says. “One more big push.”
How did you get so lucky and I do not know if I can push one more time. If I do I am afraid I will push out the baby and my spine and all my organs, and that might not be a good thing, except at least Jack will get his Alien wish.
“That’s the way, honey.” Alan has moved to the foot of the hospital bed. “I can see the head. Jack, come look.”
Jack turns to Laurie. “No worries,” he says. “I’m fine here.” He breathes along with Laurie.
“He has dark hair,” Alan announces. “A lot of hair.”
“Better than a baldy,” Jack says. “I know people say all babies are cute, but not the bald ones.”
“Huh huh.” Laurie will love the baby if he is bald or if he has a lot of hair or if his head is covered with Bermuda grass.
“Good job, Laurie,” Dr. Liu says. He is bent between her legs, and she wonders if the baby will shoot out like a rocket or she will hear a dramatic sound—a balloon popping.
“Oh…there’s more of his head. I can see more of the head, oh oh oh.” Alan can barely make words.
“Huh huh.” This is crowning, Laurie thinks. They should give me a scepter. She wants to laugh, but she is not in her body; she is hovering above the room, watching Alan at her feet, intent on the delivery, watching Jack, who is pale, a scared smile frozen on his face. They are both in the room. Waiting for the baby.
***
It does not sound like a balloon popping and Laurie is not sure she hears anything; instead, she feels her body relaxing and the sensation of something slithering, wet and slippery, and she realizes her baby is born.
Alan and Jack are silent, but Laurie isn�
��t worried, and hallelujah, she realizes she’s using contractions again. Nurses are moving around her and Dr. Liu appears with a tiny pink and purple body, limbs flailing, bigger than a kitten, but making kitten sounds all the same. The baby is shiny and new, and his fists are clenched together close to his chest. His eyes are shut, and he’s frowning as if he’s annoyed at the fuss.
“Hello, Buddy,” Laurie says as Dr. Liu puts the baby into Laurie’s arms. He feels warm and small and very wiggly.
“I don’t think he’s a Buddy,” Alan says. He is holding Laurie’s hand again.
“Yeah,” Jack agrees. “He looks more like a Buddette.”
***
Buddy is a she. A girl. Years from now, will she talk about this in therapy? “Yeah, my parents must have wanted a boy.” “No,” Laurie will tell her. “We wanted a baby. We wanted you.”
And will she believe that? She’ll probably say something like, “Oh, great. Like it wasn’t hard enough growing up with three parents instead of two.” And Laurie and Alan will tell her life is full of unexpected things. Their daughter will roll her eyes, her eyes that are a combination of Laurie’s and Jack’s, but also the attitude of Alan’s. She is a combination of all three of them.
***
Laurie is breast-feeding the baby in her hospital room. Alan and Jack are with her, watching closely, as if they’re afraid they’ll miss something. “I read somewhere men are able to breast-feed,” she tells them. Alan and Jack shudder. “Yeah, exactly the reaction I would have expected. Don’t want to give it a try?”
“Nope,” says Alan.
“I’ll take a pass,” says Jack.
After feeding the baby is done, she asks Alan and Jack if they’d like to hold the baby. They glance at each other—who should go first?
“Don’t make me flip a coin,” Laurie says.
Alan steps forward and takes the baby. He holds her as if she’s made of glass. “She’s so light,” he says. When Alan speaks, her eyes open. Big and brown, she looks right at Alan as if she’s heard his voice before. “Hello,” he says to her. “Welcome, pretty girl.” Everything about her is so perfect, so new. He doesn’t think he will ever be able to let her go.
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