Noah and Me

by Beckie Stevenson

  By the time we get back to my house, I can’t feel the tops of my thighs or the end of my nose. I leave my gloves on and head straight into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

  “Do you want a drink?” I call out to him. I turn around just in time to see him sneak into the living room. “Noah?” I ask. I walk down the hallway with a teaspoon in my hand and stand in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

  He stands up and holds two presents out to me. “Looks like someone swooped in and put a present underneath the tree for you.”

  “For me?”

  He smiles. “Yes. Go make us some hot chocolate and let’s open your presents. If we do it now, then you can wake up tomorrow and it’ll just be a normal day.”

  I want to fall in love with this boy, I think to myself, but I know I can never do that with anyone. I wish we were two normal people who met at a normal place with no exceptional circumstances surrounding us and no Tara hiding in the background. I wish this were a nice, normal Christmas with no bad feelings and no grief following us around. Noah is just as alone tonight as I am, yet he’s the one who’s gone all out to stop me from feeling alone. I wish I could return the favour.

  I return a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and settle myself on the floor next to the Christmas tree and Noah.

  “Thanks,” he says, taking the mug from me. “I need to talk about something with you,” he whispers quietly, in between sips. “But it’s not exactly the right moment to talk about it.”

  That sounded like a riddle. “Alright.”

  “We haven’t used protection,” he blurts. “And I’m so sorry because I should have asked or at least thought about putting a condom on. I didn’t think about it until I was out shopping today and saw a box when I was walking through Boots. I’ve never had sex without a condom,” he continues in a rush, “and I can’t believe I didn’t even notice…well, I mean, I did notice because it was different, but I just didn’t think. I’m sorry, Ariel. Tell me what you need me to do.”

  I blink at him over my mug. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not,” he says. “I haven’t got any diseases, but you might be—”

  “It’s fine,” I say quickly, stopping him. “Seriously, we don’t need to worry.”

  I see his shoulders sag in relief. “You’re on the pill?”

  I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to lie. “We’re fine,” I say again, but this time I say it with a lot more conviction. “You don’t need to think about it again.”

  “That’s good to know,” he says. “Wouldn’t want any little Noahs running around, would we?”

  I stare at him. My eyes refuse to leave his face, despite the fact that my brain is shouting at them to look at something else. Anything else. Little Noahs would be adorably cute. “No,” I whisper.

  It’s awkward for a few seconds as we continue to drink. I try to avoid looking at him while he continually stares at me. I think he’s checking to see if I’m okay, but he doesn’t need to worry about me. Like he said, I’m strong. I’m certainly stronger than I ever thought I could be.

  “Are you ready?” he asks, waving the two presents at me.

  I nod and put my mug on the hearth. “Yes.”

  They’re both similar in shape, but he hands me the one that’s in unfamiliar wrapping paper. The other one I know is from my mum. His present looks like it’s been gift-wrapped in the shop. It’s too perfect and precise for a boy to have wrapped it.

  I carefully pull open the ends and unravel the ribbon. A rectangular, velvet-covered box lands in my hand. I look up at him, but he’s not looking at my face. His eyes are fixed on the box and I think I can see a hint of excitement in them. The box creaks as I pry the lid open. When I see what he’s brought me, I snap it shut again.

  “Noah,” I breathe. “I can’t accept this.”

  He blinks up at me, looking confused. “Don’t you like it?”

  I shake my head and open the box again. A tiny white label with the word ‘platinum’ written in italics is clinging to the smooth cushion. On the cushion is a necklace with a X-shaped pendant hanging from the bottom. I pull it out and let it run through my fingers.

  “You won’t let me kiss you,” he says. “So I thought I could kiss you in another way.”

  “Kiss me?” I ask.

  He nods. “You know when you’re writing a card and you put your name in it and then kisses afterwards?”

  I nod.

  “You put little x’s for the kisses. So this is like a kiss.”

  It’s so perfect that it’s completely wrong. He shouldn’t have to buy me a necklace with a kiss on it. He should be able to kiss me and I should let him. There shouldn’t be an issue, but I’m glad he’s embracing it rather then pushing and testing me about it. I hand him the necklace and then turn away from him. “It’s beautiful,” I tell him as he clips it on for me. “Thank you.”

  “And so are you,” he whispers against the back of my neck. “I know we’ve had a weird start, Ariel, but I really like you. I think you need to work on a few things and you definitely need some sort of counselling, but I can see the real you deep down and I already know that I like you. I’m not saying let’s start something right now, but I’m saying I’d like to at some point. That is, if you would. But let’s do it properly…and slowly.”

  I can’t look at him. How can I possibly have anything with him? Despite the fact that I know it won’t go anywhere—which means starting anything is absolutely pointless—I find myself nodding my head and saying, “Okay.”

  He leans around me and places the other present in my hand. “Open it,” he says. “She got it for you. It was obviously special because she wrapped it first.”

  I nod and feel a tear leak out of my eye. I don’t bother to wipe it away as I unwrap her present. It’s a smaller box than Noah’s, but it’s fatter. I take a deep breath and open it. Sobs escape from my chest as my hands roam all over the bracelet. My fingers dance over the swimmer, the cyclist and the runner. I bet my mum was over the moon that she found these charms. I imagine her coming home all excited and showing my dad. This would have been her idea of the ideal present…and it is. I push it over my hand and hold my wrist up to show Noah.

  “It’s perfect,” he says.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Are you keeping the jewellery on for bed?” he says, nodding towards my wrist and neck.

  “I’m never ever going to take either of them off,” I tell him. “I promise.”

  He smiles and lifts me up and into his arms. “Let’s go to bed,” he says. “Tomorrow is just going to be a normal day. We’ll get up, I’ll cook us a nice big breakfast and then we’ll go on a hike through the Moors if you want.”

  I yawn and cover my mouth as I nod. “That sounds like a perfect normal day to me.”

  He carries me up the stairs and gently places me down onto my bed.

  “I’ve had a really nice Christmas Eve,” I tell him as I pull my clothes off. “Well, the afternoon and evening anyway.”

  “Me too,” he says, rolling his jeans down his legs. “We’re just going to sleep,” he says, nodding at the bed. “No funny business.”

  “I think I’m too tired for funny business,” I reply, climbing under the covers.

  Noah slips in behind me and pulls me into his chest. His arm comes around me and tucks in just underneath my chest. “Goodnight, Ariel.”

  I smile and cry at the same time. “Goodnight, Noah.”

  Chapter 18

  NOW

  Life

  “Ariel,” calls Janet, “your shift is over.”

  I grip my patient’s leg and glance at the clock. “I’ll see it out.”

  “You’re sure?” Janet asks, looking surprised.

  “Yeah,” I say, blowing my hair out of the way.

  “You’ve been here for nearly fourteen hours.”

  Yeah, like I don’t know that. Like my legs aren’t aching and my back doesn’t feel like it’s breaking.
“We won’t be long now,” I say, bobbing my head up over a pair of legs to grin at the lady who has been huffing and grunting at me for the last twelve hours.

  “How fucking long?!” she yells.

  I lower my head and stare at the full head of orange hair that’s just about to crown. “A few minutes,” I tell her. “You’ve done so well, Natalie. Just a few little pushes and you’ll have your baby.”

  “See, sweetheart?” her husband says. “Not long now. I told you it would be here before Christmas.”

  “It’s not an it!” she screeches.

  She grimaces at him and screws her face up as another contraction takes over her body. “There we go,” I say softly. “Chin down and push through your bum.”

  “Aarrgghh!” she screams.

  “Try not to shout, Natalie. You’re wasting good energy.” The baby’s head slips out a fraction and then pops back in. “Push like you’re having a poo,” I tell her.

  “I can’t push,” she pants. “And I don’t want to poo!”

  “You’re not going to poo.” Okay, so that was a lie. She’s already done one and most women do, but usually the fear of doing a number two in front of their partner is enough to stop them from pushing properly. Most of the time they don’t even know they’ve done it and I always lie when they ask me.

  I rub my hand gently against her thigh. “I can see your baby’s hair,” I say. “Dad, do you want a look?”

  He quickly glances at Natalie, who looks horrified at the thought, but leans over her knee to have a peek anyway. “Oh my God,” he says through a shocked laugh. “Nat, Nat, I can see it. I can see our baby.” He excitedly rubs the top of her head.

  “Stop fucking petting me like I’m a fucking dog!” she orders.

  I hide my smile and stick my head back down in between her legs. “Okay, Nat, on the next one I want a big, long push. Chin down, push through your bum and no noise.”

  Her stomach starts to ripple and I see her knuckles turning white as she grips her own thighs. “This is it?” she asks.

  “Yes, well, it can be if you do as I tell you.”

  She furiously nods. “It’s coming again.”

  “That’s it,” I tell her. The head moves and this time it doesn’t slip back in. “One, two, three…keep going, Natalie,” I say. She pushes with all of her might, bless her. “Four, five, six, seven, eight. You’re doing great, Nat.” As the widest part of the head presents itself, I see the ring of her vagina as it pales and stretches to its maximum circumference. “Pant!” I yell. “Pant, Natalie. No more pushing.”

  She pants like a dog. Then she stops pushing just in time to let her body adjust all by itself. “Have I torn?” she asks. “Have you cut me?”

  I shake my head as the head starts to slide out. “No.”

  “It’s burning!” she screams as she arches her back up off the mattress. “It’s on fire! My fanny is on fire!!”

  “It’s just stretching to make sure your baby can get out. It’s normal and it means you’re nearly there,” I say, hoping it’ll appease her a little. I wiggle myself further down and get my hands ready to catch their baby. “One more big push on the last contraction and then you’ll meet your baby.”

  Her husband, Jonathon, starts to panic. His eyes go wide and he starts to nervously rub Natalie’s arm. “Not long now, baby!”

  I put my hand on her swollen belly and feel the rumblings. “This is it!” I say with a screech of excitement. “One more push!”

  Natalie screws her face up, sticks her chin on her chest and delivers her baby in one quick push. He slides out of her and falls straight into my hands as I glance at the clock. I unravel the slippery cord from around his neck and quickly give him the once-over. He has good colour and opens his mouth to suck in his first real breath. I love this moment. It’s remarkable the changes that happen immediately after delivery and every birth is a miracle to me. Every single time I deliver a perfectly healthy baby, I thank God for them. Life is precious.

  “It’s a boy!” I tell them through my teary eyes. I hold him up and shove him on Natalie’s naked chest. “Congratulations,” I say, but they don’t hear me.

  Natalie is crying and staring at her beautiful baby boy in disbelief. Jonathon is crying more than the baby. He rubs his nose and leans over to kiss Natalie’s head.

  “Well done, Nat,” he says through his sobs. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I smile at them. I get to bond with plenty of couples doing this job. Some of the guys are total arseholes because they just sit there, playing on their phones, while their wife or girlfriend is going through complete and utter agony. Others faff around the woman because they think they’re doing the right thing, but their panic makes the woman panic. But some couples like Natalie and Jonathon are so in love with each other and in tune with one another that they just seem connected on some sort of spiritual level. I’m not exactly religious, but sometimes it feels like I’m witnessing real soulmates in action.

  “Dad, are you going to cut the cord?” I ask.

  He rubs his son’s head and nods at me. “Yes, please.”

  “You did amazing,” I tell Natalie, pointing to the place where Jonathon needs to cut.

  She looks up at me and smiles from ear to ear. “Thank you,” she breathes, letting her head fall back onto the pillow. She looks absolutely exhausted.

  “You’re welcome,” I whisper. I lean forward and check out the baby. He looks fine. I’ll check him over properly in a second, but he’s rooting for her breast, which is always a good sign. “He’s a handsome little chap.”

  She nods. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  She could have, but it’s nice for her to say. “Does he have a name yet?”

  She smiles at Jonathon and then nods at me. “His name is Teddy.”

  I like that name. “That’s lovely,” I say honestly.

  “He’ll be Edward, but we’ll call him Teddy or Ted.”

  There’s a knock on the door and then Janet walks in. “Congratulations,” she says to Natalie, peeping at Teddy. “He’s gorgeous.”

  “Thanks,” Natalie beams proudly.

  “Come on now, Ariel,” she says to me. “You’ve been at it for fourteen-and-a-half hours. Let’s get you home. Do your required paperwork and I’ll finish up in here.”

  I walk over to the table and tuck their file under my arm. “I’ll see you three in the morning,” I tell them. “Congratulations again.”

  It’s nearly midnight and it feels like it’s been the longest day of the year when I finally grab my coat and bag. I’ll be back in here in less than seven hours. Great.

  I decide to walk down the stairs instead of waiting for the lift. As I enter the reception area, I pull my coat on and wrap my scarf around my neck, then let out a big, exhausted huff when I step outside and feel the freezing cold air on my cheeks.

  “Long day?”

  I take a deep breath in and turn to find Noah waiting underneath the canopy. “How long have you been there?”

  “About an hour,” he says as if it isn’t freezing and he doesn’t look like a weirdo stalker.

  Why has he waited for me? He’s supposed to be avoiding me. “You’re like a bad case of genital warts,” I tell him, nodding towards the pedestrian path.

  “Charming,” he says as he starts to walk beside me.

  “I’ve had a really hard shift,” I tell him. “I’m absolutely knackered, Noah, so please tell me what you want. I’m not in the mood for one of your riddles or a round of whatever stupid game you’re playing.”

  “Why are you a midwife?” he asks as we leave the hospital complex.

  I know he didn’t wait for me to talk about my career choice, but I also know better than to out him on it. So I give him a similar answer to the one I gave during my interview. “I enjoy it, mainly, and I feel privileged to be able to witness the miracle of birth on a daily basis. I love that I help women to feel empowered so that they can have the pregnancy and birth they’ve
always wanted.” That was sort of the exact answer that I gave during my interview, but it’s also the truth.

  “Hmm,” he says.

  I peek at him through the corner of my eye. He has a dark brown scarf wrapped neatly around his neck and is wearing a black woollen coat that is double-breasted and looks expensive. His brown brogues click softly across the pavement. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his cheeks are flushed from the cold. His rosy red cheeks remind me of how he used to look after we’d had sex.

  I want to push him against the wall and ravish him. I want to taste him again. I want to feel him again. I want him to like me again. I hate that he hates me. Before, I imagined that he hated me and I could live with that. But being here and seeing the hurt on his face and the confusion dirtying his eyes has made it almost unbearable to be in the same city, never mind the same apartment building.

  “Look,” I sigh. “I know I need to explain myself to you. I know I shouldn’t have just left like that and I will tell you the truth,” I say. “I promise you that. But right here and now just isn’t the right time, Noah.”

  He nods, rubbing his stubble with his hand. “You’ve promised me once before, Ariel. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you now? Do you even realise what I went through after you left?”

  “Yes,” I huff, expelling a cloud of warm air that mists in front of my face. “You went through a lavish wedding at home,” I remind him. “You married your teenage sweetheart. You must have been so upset.”

  He chews on his lip as we cross over the main road.

  “How is the lovely Tara?” I ask, because I can’t stand awkward silence.

  “She’s none of your business,” he says curtly.

  I roll my eyes but feel my heart dip into my stomach.

  “Is it me?” he asks out of the blue.

  “Is what you?”

  “Am I the reason you’re the way you are?”

  I laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I’m being serious. Don’t laugh about this, Ariel.”

  Wow. “I beg your pardon?”