by Risk, Mona
“Listen to me, sweetheart.” His voice was firm but his breathing loud. “Is the pain you’re feeling like strong, successive twitches of pain that come every few minutes? Or is it more like the intermittent cramps you had during menstruation?”
“Yes, painful cramps.”
“I want Leila to check your panties. See if you’re bleeding. You should not move at all. Let her do it. Just lie down and relax. Understand?”
She exhaled. “Yes.”
Leila resumed talking to Greg and followed his instructions. She lowered Roxanne’s pants and examined her undies while Roxanne held her breath.
“No blood. Not a drop.”
“Good.” Greg’s voice boomed across the line. “Now...”
“Yes,” Leila said. “I’ll do everything you say... Steve’s number? Here it is.” In spite of her troubles, Roxanne smiled. Leila knew the number by heart. She didn’t need to ask Roxanne.
“They left almost an hour ago. They should be at the airport now. Thank you, Dr. Greg.”
Leila set the phone on the cocktail table and brought pillows from her bedroom. “I will follow Dr. Greg’s instructions to make you as comfortable as possible,” she said as she slid two pillows under Roxanne’s head and one under her knees. “Now, keep your arms along your body. I will massage them. Dr. Greg said your baby is fine. The important thing is for you not to move and just relax. In two days we will be on the plane, flying to your country. I know we will be happy there. I already visited New York years ago, and...” Leila’s voice was monotonous and soothing and Roxanne drifted off.
****
“Dr. Hayes speaking.” Greg paced his office and waited for Roxanne’s colleague to answer.
“You must have dialed a wrong number, Doc. I’m here in Iraq—”
“Are you Steve Cooper who works with Roxanne Ramsay?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m Greg Hayes calling from Florida.”
“Oh, the Greg.” A chuckle followed.
“Listen, man. I don’t have time to explain. Roxanne is sick and she needs help. Right away.”
“Is that a bad joke? I just left her an hour ago and—”
“She’s having cramps and may lose her baby. Her friend Leila called me. Here’s what I want you to do.” Greg barked his orders without waiting for answer or comment. “Contact your boss, Lou. Tell him to expect my call. I need to send some medicine to Roxanne tonight. Visit the nearest drugstore to the Diabs’ place and see if they carry Propanolol, or magnesium sulfate or even Terbutaline, although it’s a thing of the past.”
“Slow down. I’m writing these names.”
“Do you have an obstetrician at the base?”
“Are you kidding? They don’t send pregnant officers or soldiers to Baghdad, period.”
“How about a portable ultrasound at the military hospital?”
“I’ve no idea, but I can ask.”
“Good. Can you leave the Diabs at the airport and go back to Roxanne right away?”
“No problem. We’ve already recommended them to a hostess who will take care of them. We’re on our way back. I’ll make a few phone calls from the car.”
“Contact me as soon as you’re done.”
“Are you in the military? You sure know how to give orders.”
“No time for that.” Greg cut the connection and called Lou himself. “This is Greg Hayes, Roxanne’s boyfriend,” he announced in one breath to avoid futile questions.
“Hi Greg. You have a good story for me?”
“I have a bad one. Roxanne is having contractions and may lose her baby. And she’s stuck in Baghdad without help.”
“Hell no!” The boss sounded stricken. “How can I help?”
“Do you have anyone leaving for Iraq in the next few hours? Anyone who could take medicine and instructions?”
“No, but if you want to go, I can arrange for you to leave tonight.”
“Me? Tonight?” Goosebumps popped on Greg’s arms. Fly...to Iraq of all places. Not for anyone else, but for Roxy he’d do it.
“I know a pilot in Fort Lauderdale who can fly you here. And then I’ll arrange a flight to Baghdad. Okay?”
“Huh... Yes. Yes, I’ll go.” Greg swallowed but the big lump in his throat wouldn’t shift. “I mean I’ll come.”
“Calm down, man. We’ll pull her out of there. I’ll call you in an hour. Be ready.”
Greg sat his phone on his desk and stared at it. Be ready to fly? How? He couldn’t remember what he needed to take. Medicines for Roxanne. And for himself, to cope with the flight.
He flattened his shaky hands on his desk. “Calm down. Breathe. Calm. Damn, I can’t go on a plane.” Cold sweat moistened his forehead. “Damn. I have to do it because...because I love her. Yes, I love her. In spite of the baby. Another man’s child.”
Greg opened a drawer and pulled out a picture. Roxanne on his arm at the wedding. Lovely and slim in her bridesmaid outfit. She was already pregnant when he met her and was attracted to her.
Greg stared at the photo. The baby was a part of her.
Poor little thing struggling to remain alive in its mother’s womb. It had no father now. No one to shield it from danger... Except Greg.
A fierce desire to protect Roxanne and the baby invaded Greg. “She needs me. They both need me. I have to save her baby. I will go to her. Damn it, I can do it.”
He sat in his chair, heaved a deep breath, and wrote on a pad, medicines for Roxanne; anti-anxiety for me. This was not going well. Too slow. He picked up his phone and punched a number. “Nick, I need you here.” Another number. “Madelyn, please come to my office.” One more number. “Sandra, meeting in my office.”
He reached for a bottle of water and guzzled. He felt better, in control. At least for the moment.
His door burst open. “What’s going on, Greg?” Nick snapped.
“You look sick,” Madelyn added, following her husband.
“Can I get you something?” Sandra Morelli, their head nurse asked.
“Just listen to me and don’t interrupt. We need your help. Roxanne’s having contractions.” He looked at Madelyn. “Yes, she’s still in Baghdad. I’m leaving in an hour for Atlanta or wherever her boss will fly me. The man is omnipotent.”
“You will fly?” Nick said slowly. “I can go if you prefer.”
“No. I will do it, but I’m a bit nervous now and afraid to forget something. Can you help me prepare all the medicines I may need to prevent a miscarriage?” He rubbed his jaw. “And others, in case it happens. Also something to take care of my phobia. Can I have all the instructions typed legibly, in case I need a local medic to help?”
“We’ll have it all ready and packed for you.” Nick clapped him on the back. “Now you know why we can’t operate on relatives.”
“Thanks. Let me call her.”
Leila answered his call in a hushed voice. “She’s sleeping. No cramps for the last three hours.”
“You’re doing well, Leila. If she wakes up, continue to talk to her and massage her. I’m coming, but don’t tell her. We don’t want to overexcite her.” Greg kept twirling a pencil between his fingers.
“I’m so glad you’re coming.” Leila sounded relieved. “Steve, Brian and Joe are here. Steve wants to talk to you.”
“Dr. Greg, we called several local pharmacies. They don’t have the drugs you want. Only one hospital has the magnesium sulfate, but they keep their stock for their local patients. We talked to the medics at the military base. They have a portable ultrasound. Should I tell them to come?”
“Not yet. Steve, write down the phone number of my boss, Dr. Nick Preston.” Greg read the number Nick wrote for him. “Nick is Roxanne’s brother-in-law. Keep in contact with him. I’ll be leaving for Baghdad in an hour.”
“Lou told me he’s using his special connections and putting you on a military plane. You’ll be here before you know it.”
The pencil snapped between Greg’s fingers. Good God, a milit
ary plane, for his first flight after twenty years of acute plane phobia. His heart plummeted to his toes. “Gr...great.” His own voice sounded so husky he didn’t recognize it. “Steve, stay with the ladies. Don’t let Roxanne move. Keep her comfortable. Bye.”
Nick smiled with understanding. “Greg, are you sure you want to go? We can deliver the boxes of medicines to that military plane. The docs at the base will know how to administer them. I’m sure they poke enough wounded soldiers with IV lines.”
Greg shook his head. “I want to be there for Roxanne.” A mixture of emotions churned inside him. He wouldn’t try to sort them out now.
Madelyn came to him and hugged him. “Thank you, Greg, for caring so much about my sister. You’re very dear to her too. Let’s hope she doesn’t get real contractions.”
“She’s been okay for the past three hours. The problem is that if the cramps come back, they may escalate in strength and rate. And then...” Greg didn’t finish his sentence. As doctors, they knew that contractions at such an early stage of the pregnancy meant miscarriage.
“We’ll pray you’ll be able to reach her and treat her before it’s too late.” Madelyn crossed her hands together.
“We also need to take care of you, Greg. I’ll call Dr. Tom Tader, a psychiatrist, and ask for a few pills for you,” Nick said.
“I need something light to numb my fear at the airport but keep me alert. I think I’ll start with Benadryl. It’s for allergic reactions, but it has some sedative action. Then maybe Dramamine, before I board to keep the dizziness away, and later a sleeping pill.”
“Don’t play with drugs,” his boss admonished. “Dr. Tader will have a kit ready for you.”
“Thank you. Don’t forget to tell him I need enough pills to return home.”
Nick burst out laughing. “Good idea. We don’t want you stuck in Baghdad because you can’t board a plane.”
Greg banged on his desk. “It’s not funny, man.”
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.”
Greg’s phone rang. “Lou Roland speaking. Dr. Hayes, get ready to take a Lufthansa flight today at 4:20 pm from Miami. You’ll be in Frankfurt tomorrow morning at 7:15 am. Hans Roppenberg will wait for you at the gate and fly you in a copter to Ramstein Base. There you’ll board a military C-21 aircraft heading to Baghdad. Steve Cooper and the two guards who were escorting Roxanne will pick you up and drive you to wherever she is now. Got it?”
“Yes.” The word hardly crossed his dry throat.
“Baghdad is eight hours ahead of us. Get going. You don’t have time to waste.” The line cut.
“Damn, I have to leave from the Miami airport in two hours.” Greg counted on his fingers. “A jet, a helicopter, and a military C-21. Oh God.”
Nick clapped him on the back. “Go pack for your trip while I gather what you need. I’ll pick you up and drive you to the airport. This is a race against time.”
****
The room was almost dark. A weak light flickered from a corner. Roxanne tried to remember. Was she having a bad dream?
No, the nightmare was too real. Cramps assailed her. One, two on the right side. She held her breath. They stopped, then resumed on the left side, and in the middle.
Like several tweezers pinching her or even knives stabbing her insides. Roxanne whimpered, tried to reach her stomach.
Leila caught her hand, rubbed it, and then massaged her forehead. Her monotonous voice droned on and on about gardens, and flowers, and islands and... Boring things Roxanne couldn’t care less about, but she didn’t want to be rude and tell her to cut it out. Poor Leila, she’d never make it at KNR. She’d put her audience to sleep.
Roxanne blinked several times. The pain ebbed and stopped. She breathed better. But Leila started another litany. More descriptions of desert and mountains, and flowers again...
“Water,” Roxanne murmured. Her throat had dried like old parchment. Had she drifted off?
Hushed whispers floated in the room. Leila and Steve rushed to her side. “I’m calling Dr. Nick,” Steve said.
“No, call Greg,” Roxanne ordered.
“Yes, Dr. Greg.” Leila pushed Steve out of the room.
He came back a few minutes later. “You can take water. Keep it in your mouth long enough to soothe your throat.”
Leila put a spoon between Roxanne’s lips. The few drops of water were heaven.
“Time?” Without moving her head she tried to scan the area. She was still on the sofa in the living room. Leila and Steve bent toward her. She couldn’t see the two other men or the little boy.
“Six in the morning,” Steve said. “You’ve slept for seven more hours since the last cramps.”
Her eyes widened in fear and she stared at her friend. “Baby?” she mouthed.
“Shh, don’t talk. Don’t move,” Leila ordered. “I’ll explain. You had painful cramps again around ten at night. They lasted longer than the first time, but they stopped. No blood. The baby is still there. Soon, everything will be fine. If you can still hold on for two more hours.”
Roxanne arched her eyebrows. “Two? Why?” she mouthed.
“Don’t talk, please.” As if any sound came out her vocal cords. “I’ll tell you about the time we went to the garden of...”
“No,” she huffed. Enough boring stories. Roxanne yawned and closed her eyes to escape into her own world. When they arrived in the U.S. she’d teach Leila how to create interesting stories or relate funny tales. Meanwhile, she’d have to listen to her talk of flowers and gardens and flowers and water...
Strong voices pulled Roxanne from her lethargy. Leila’s laughter bubbled, followed by her Rabbena kebeer, the Lord is great.
“How is she doing?” Greg’s voice resonated in the room now bright with sunshine.
Oh dear, she was dead and hearing incredibly beautiful sounds like Greg’s voice. Her punishment for causing Nabil’s death and exposing her baby to danger. But if she hadn’t come to Baghdad, Elias wouldn’t have lived.
A gentle hand cupped her face. “Sweetheart?”
“Greg,” she whispered. “Death good.”
“You’re alive, my love, alive.” Warm lips covered her face with kisses. “Open your eyes.”
“Greg? How?”
“Later. Let me hook an IV in your arm.” He checked her pulse, then rolled her sleeve and secured a blood pressure cuff on her arm. A moment later, he smiled. “Better than I expected. Steve, please, get me the big box labeled IV Fluids and open it.”
From the corner of her eye, Roxanne caught a glimpse of Steve opening a box and handing Greg a pole, an IV bag full of fluid and a small package. Brian set the pole on its base while Greg tore the package and set a needle in a syringe.
“Look at me, Roxanne. I’m not going to hurt you.” He wrapped an elastic band around her left upper arm, tapped on her skin, and slid the needle in. She bit her lip. A tiny prick that really didn’t hurt.
“I gave you an injection of Propanolol to stop the cramps. Now I’ll hook up the IV drip because you’ve been dehydrated in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Okay.” She smiled at Greg and a huge sigh of relief escaped her.
Greg pricking her arm with a needle reassured her more than anything in the world. Her baby would be safe.
How did Greg arrive here so quickly? He must have flown on a plane. In spite of his phobia. To take care of her and save her baby. She stared at him. Gleaming with tenderness, his beautiful hazel eyes met hers. She mouthed, “I love you.”
He smiled, such a warm smile, and answered in the same way, “I love you too. Later.”
Greg lowered his gaze back to her arm and disconnected the syringe. Leaving the needle in, he connected it to the tube of the IV drip. “You’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
“I know. Because you’re here with me.”
“Hmm.” Steve cleared his throat. “Should we step out?”
Greg laughed. “Not yet. I’m a doctor who’s just hooked an IV line into my patient. Maybe later,
when she’s in better shape we’ll send you out.”
Roxanne chuckled. Anticipation tingled through her body. She couldn’t wait to be alone with Greg.
Chapter Nine
“You’ve taken my blood pressure four times in the last three hours. It’s stable. Relax.” Roxanne squeezed his hand to reassure him. Now that Greg was beside her, she’d recovered her faith in the future. But boy was he worried about her. Using her free arm, she reached for his forehead and smoothed his brow with the tips of her fingers.
“I’m relieved the drug didn’t cause any detrimental side effect.” He sighed and then smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be fine but I’ll feel better after you get an ultrasound exam.”
“We’re not in Florida. Where do you think I can get an ultrasound in Baghdad?” She snorted. Poor Greg the long flight had affected his reasoning. She didn’t dare ask him how he’d managed to board a plane in spite of his phobia. He wouldn’t appreciate the question in front of the other men.
“Colonel McGee who traveled with me from Frankfurt to Baghdad assured me he’d send a technician with a portable ultrasound machine.” Greg hid a yawn and then raked his fingers through his hair.
“Colonel McGee!” The gasps echoed from various parts of the living room.
“You met Colonel McGee?” Roxanne smiled to her ears.
“You talked to our big guy?” Brian’s eyes almost bulged.
“Man, are you lucky,” Joe added with admiration.
“What’s so extraordinary? He’s a nice simple man. And we chatted for almost two hours.”
“Are we talking about the same Colonel McGee who terrifies our whole regiment?” Brian’s voice sounded as incredulous as if they were discussing the big bad wolf.
Greg shrugged. “He knows you, Roxanne. He was quite interested in your problem.”
“My pro... You didn’t tell him?” He told the almighty colonel that she was pregnant and having cramps. Oh no. “How could you? I interviewed the man twice and had trouble getting him to spit interesting tidbits. I’m going to lose his respect as a career woman and a reporter.”