Kiss a Girl in the Rain

by Nancy Warren

  He hadn’t gone far when he came up behind an old Volvo. He was about to pass it when the car swerved out into the other lane. Then back again and onto the shoulder.

  Drugs? Drink? Some idiot falling asleep at the wheel? Whatever was going on, Evan hung back to stay out of the erratic driver’s way.

  For maybe ten miles he stayed behind the Volvo. For short periods everything would be fine and he’d think about overtaking. Then the bizarre swerving would start up again.

  Fortunately there was so little traffic on this road that he and the driver of the Volvo were the only two in danger.

  Then, suddenly, it swerved violently into the shoulder and lurched to a gravel-spewing stop.

  Good. The driver was either stopping to snooze, puke or shoot up, he figured. He pulled out his cell phone. He ought to call the cops and get this idiot off the road. But, of course, there was no reception on this lonely road. He drove slowly past, looking into the driver’s side window, curious to see what was going on.

  And discovered all his guesses had been wrong.

  The person in the driver’s side didn’t look tired or drunk or on drugs. She looked sick. And terrified.

  And familiar.

  He pulled over in front of the Volvo.

  The woman was Caitlyn’s friend. What was her name again? Charmaine? No. Charlotte. That was it. And, he recalled she was both pregnant and a hypochondriac.

  He walked up to her window. It was open. She was hunched over the steering wheel making grunting noises.

  He waited a moment until she eased back into her seat, her eyes closed, sweat standing out in beads on her forehead and said, softly so as not to startle her. “Charlotte?”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him.

  “It’s Evan. I’m Caitlyn’s friend. What’s up?”

  “Oh, thank God,” she said.

  And then spoke words that struck terror into his very soul.

  “I think I’m having the baby.”

  Work could get her through most anything. Caitlyn had discovered that fact early in her life. When nothing she did was good enough and she was constantly criticized and compared unfavorably with other kids, she discovered the ability to lose herself in work, whether it was studying, music, athletics. If she had total focus, her problems faded into the background.

  That same work ethic would pull her through heartbreak. She knew it would. She simply had to focus.

  Her clinic was busy, which was excellent. No time to mope.

  She’d seen fourteen patients so far and she knew there were half a dozen people in the waiting room. She was writing a prescription for antibiotics for Mrs. Lamb who was suffering through her annual bout with bronchitis when her nurse knocked on the door.

  Jen was pretty well trained. Like most doctor’s receptionists she was a fierce gate keeper. So, for her to bang on the door while Caitlyn had a patient meant something serious was up.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Jen peeked her head around the corner of the door. “I’m sorry to bother you, Doctor,” she said, with a small nod to Mrs. Lamb, “but there’s a phone call I think you need to take.” She was too well-trained to give out any information about one patient while another was in ear shot, so Caitlyn had no idea what was going on, only that Jen believed it was important.

  “Thank you. I’ll take it in my office.”

  To Mrs. Lamb, she handed the prescription and said, “You know the drill. Take all the pills. Get as much rest as you can, drink plenty of hot fluids, and come and see me in a week if you don’t feel better.”

  “Thank you, Doc,” the woman said, and then rose, breaking into a spasm of coughing as she headed out the door.

  Caitlyn slipped out of the examination room and into her office next door. She picked up the blinking line on the phone. “Caitlyn Sorenson.”

  “Cait, It’s Doug. I’m looking for Charlotte.” Doug was Charlotte’s husband.

  What did he think she was, a babysitter? A spurt of irritation splashed through her, and then she forced it down.

  “She’s not here.”

  “I know. That’s what Jen said. But she was on her way to you more than an hour ago. She dropped me off at the airport. She was having more of those Braxton Hicks thingies. But she really didn’t look so good. She promised me she’d drive straight over to you. But I can’t get her on her cell. She’s not at home. She’s not with you.” His voice cracked with strain. “Where the hell is she?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” she said soothingly. But there were a lot of spots on the road between Miller’s Pond and the airport where a distracted woman could go off the road. And her due date was only two weeks away.

  “I hated leaving her. This is my last trip before the baby’s due. I don’t know, there was something wrong. I never should have got on that plane. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” she said again, though in truth she was starting to worry too. “You’re certain she didn't plan to stop and go shopping or visit a friend or—”

  “No. I’m telling you. She was having a strange pain in her lower abdomen and the Braxton Hicks things were really bothering her. You know how she is, she always thinks something’s wrong, but this time I think it really might have been.”

  “Doug, do you think your wife could be in labor?”

  “But it’s too early. The baby’s not due for two weeks.” He sounded like his panic level had gone from a two to a ten in a nanosecond.

  “She probably had the sense to drive herself straight to the hospital.”

  “Then why isn’t she picking up her cell?”

  “If she’s in labor, she won’t--.”

  “If she’s in the hospital, they’d phone me. I’m calling Chief Barker right away. Somebody better look for her.”

  “Okay. I think that’s a good idea.” She pictured her waiting room and the people in it. There was nothing that couldn't be rescheduled. “I’ll head out to look for her too.”

  “Hey, I know you’ve got patients. It’s okay.”

  “Doug, she’s not only my patient. She’s my best friend.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I can’t have the baby in my car!” Charlotte wailed.

  Evan tried to be calm, but the cowardly part of him wished he’d never turned his head as he drove by the Volvo. However, he was here now and he’d do the best he could. Acting a hell of a lot calmer than he felt was the first step. “I think the baby is calling the shots.”

  “But Doug’s not here. He’s supposed to give me ice chips and help me breathe.” She grabbed her huge belly as though she wanted to maybe move it over to the passenger seat. “We practiced.”

  Rapidly, Evan reviewed his options. “Why don’t I drive you to the hospital?” he said. Babies were born in hospital. Unless you were alternative like his mom, then they were born at home. But still, there were trained midwives and a plan B if anything went wrong. Plan B always involved going to the hospital.

  A cry ripped from between her lips. “I don’t think there’s time.”

  He knew she was a hypochondriac because he’d heard Caitlyn’s side of the calls. He suspected if he could help her out of the driver’s side he could lay her down in the back seat and head to the hospital.

  He had no idea where the hospital was, but as soon as he hit cell service he’d be calling Caitlyn. Together they’d figure this out.

  “Come on,” he said gently, “Let’s get you lying down.”

  “I want Doug,” she wailed.

  “Believe me, so do I.” But he said the words under his breath.

  She managed to get her feet on the ground and then he helped her to her feet. To his horror, as she stood, dribbles of water rained down like she was peeing her pants.

  “When did your water break?” he asked, holding it together as best he could.

  Instead of answering, she turned and hung on to the car roof, bending and panting. He checked his watch.
The contraction lasted more than a minute. She pulled away from the roof, a little calmer. He got the feeling that she was going inward and part of her wasn’t even aware of where they were.

  “Okay,” he said gently, opening the rear door. “Let’s get you lying down.”

  She hadn’t even made it into the back seat when the next contraction hit. He glanced at his watch. It was only a minute since the last one. And this one lasted almost two minutes.

  He felt sweat prickle his underarms. He glanced up and down the road. Where the hell was everybody? Anybody. One car, long haul trucker, a kid on a skateboard who could carry a message. Anybody. But there was no one in sight.

  Evan had to accept the fact that there was an extremely good chance he was about to help deliver a baby.

  The woman in the back was panting. He found he was panting too.

  Why hadn’t he paid more attention when his mom was giving birth? He tried to think about what was essential. Cleanliness. That had to be first. He couldn’t boil water or access anything sterile.

  He tried to think. Hand sanitizer. He bet Charlotte was a woman who carried hand sanitizer. He didn’t bother her, but found her purse on the passenger side floor. Sure enough, inside was a bottle of the stuff.

  He began to grow calm knowing that he and this woman were going to have to work with that baby to bring it out into the world.

  She coated his hands with the sanitizer and took it around to where she was on her back, still panting. “I need to sit up,” she cried. “Hurts too much lying down.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Anything you want.” He began to reach in and grasp her hands. He was so focused that he didn’t even hear the other car until he heard a banging car door and the most incredible sound ever. Caitlyn’s voice crying, “I’m here. Is she okay?”

  He turned to her and felt in that moment that they were an incredible team and that they could do anything.

  “She’s great,” Evan announced, knowing Charlotte could hear him. Loud and cheerful, he said, “Contractions are a minute apart. Her water’s broken.”

  Clearly, this wasn’t good news.

  But Caitlyn was there, with a reassuring-looking bag of medical supplies and carrying with her a calm that he could barely fake.

  “Caitlyn,” Charlotte whispered. “Thank God.”

  Caitlyn took a second to hug her friend, which seemed to calm her down. “You’re having a baby!”

  To his amazement the laboring woman grinned. “I sure am.”

  “Let me give you a quick exam. If we’ve got time we’ll get you to the hospital.”

  The cry that emerged from Charlotte’s throat had Caitlyn glancing at Evan with concern. She waited until the worst had passed then quickly knelt, put her hands under Charlotte’s soggy maternity dress and began to feel around.

  “I can feel the head!” she exclaimed as though it was great news.

  To Evan she said, “No time for the hospital. Here’s what I need you to do. Get behind her. Hold her up and support her as best you can. She and I will do the rest.”

  “Doug, Doug, Doug’s supposed to help me breathe.”

  She and Evan exchanged glances. “Evan will help you breathe.”

  What? He glanced at her in panic.

  Charlotte did not seem enamored with that idea. “Did you take Lamaze?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m going home,” Charlotte said. Like that was seriously an option. “I’ll have the baby tomorrow.”

  “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. You’re in transition,” Caitlyn said, soothing both of them. “Evan, hold Charlotte’s hand and remind her to breathe when the contractions are intense. You’ll be fine.”

  He figured at least if he was up supporting Charlotte’s back and holding her hand and reminding her to breathe he didn’t have to get involved in whatever mysterious and terrifying thing was happening down there.

  “I want ice chips. I want to go to the hospital. I want Doug.”

  For the next ten minutes, Evan felt like all of them were in Hell. Or a battle of some kind. There was wailing, and encouragement, and pain and blood and this strange sense of a mission that the three of them were involved in. A life and death mission.

  Then Caitlyn said, “I need you to pant. You’re going to want to push, but don’t push. Not until I tell you.”

  Charlotte made horrible grunting sounds, her body twisting.

  Evan held her hand and let her squeeze the life out of his fingers. “You are so brave,” he said to Charlotte and he’d never meant words more. Why did anybody do this? And what woman in her right mind had more than one kid?

  “Okay,” Caitlyn said. She was squatting on the gravel beside the car, with Charlotte forward so her butt was at the edge of the seat. “On the next contraction, push as much as you want.”

  Charlotte did. Noisily, painfully, but she did it.

  “Great. The head’s out. Oh, baby has lots of hair. Now, on the next contraction, we’ll get the rest of baby out. You can do this Charlotte, one more time.”

  He didn’t think Charlotte had that much strength left. She was limp from the last contraction, but suddenly she was pushing back against him, squeezing his hand so he thought the bones would break and then he saw Caitlyn wobble. She almost fell back onto the gravel, but righted herself. In her arms was a squirmy mass of muck.

  And then a tiny indignant cry pierced the air. It sounded like a seagull being chased away from a lunch bag.

  “My baby,” Charlotte cried, all her tiredness gone.

  Caitlyn rose and leaned forward, handing the squirmy mess to its mother. “My baby boy,” Charlotte cried, holding the baby against her.

  Caitlyn was already clamping the umbilical cord. All her movements rapid and efficient. “Doug was going to cut the cord,” Charlotte said, her voice wobbling with emotion. “They promised him he could.”

  “He’ll be here for your next baby,” Evan said, giving the brave woman a hug.

  Of course, the ordeal wasn’t over until she pushed out the afterbirth, all of which Caitlyn packed into a bag to take with them to the hospital.

  “Can you drive Charlotte’s car to the hospital? I’ll take my own car and bring you back to your bike later.”

  “Yes. Of course. You go first so I can follow. I don’t know where the hospital is.”

  She touched his arm. “Okay. You did good.”

  While Caitlyn spent a few more minutes with the new mom and baby, he got the new car seat out of the trunk and installed it. He was more than happy to have a manly job.

  When everyone was buckled in, he drove as fast as he could. He knew they’d all feel much better when that poor kid got checked out and Charlotte was given some proper post birth care.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Everything’s fine,” Caitlyn said, coming toward him, where he paced the hospital waiting room. She wore a huge, relieved smile. He’d helped Charlotte inside the hospital while Caitlyn had carried the baby. Since Caitlyn had phoned ahead, there was a wheelchair and attendant already waiting for Charlotte and a team of people swooped on her and the baby, then everybody swiftly disappeared. Before Caitlyn followed, she said, “I’ll be a little while. I can find somebody to drive you back to your bike.”

  He shook his head. He’d come too far to walk away now. “I’ll wait. Let me know how things turn out.”

  He’d probably waited an hour, unable to settle, drinking bad coffee out of a machine for something to do, pacing.

  “Thank God,” he said, when she appeared at last with the good news. He couldn't help himself. He pulled her in and hugged her. “Thank God,” he said again.

  She pulled away from him. “I have never delivered a child on a roadside before.”

  “Me neither.”

  She chuckled. “Charlotte wants to see you.”

  “Okay.”

  Together they walked down a linoleum hallway smelling of disinfectant. The walls were a pale yellow and wheelchairs, rolling
hospital beds, equipment whose purpose he couldn’t guess at, littered the edges of the halls like randomly parked vehicles on a highway.

  She led him to an elevator and they rode up a couple of floors. Here the atmosphere was brighter. The walls were a kind of purple, as though somebody mixed together blue for a boy and pink for a girl and came up with this. There were posters about breastfeeding and corkboards crammed with photos of newborns and proud new families.

  “I should have brought flowers,” he said suddenly. “There’s probably a gift store here.”

  She patted his arm. “You helped a woman birth a baby today. So much better than flowers.”

  He beamed at her. “Yeah. I did. And so did you. Does this feeling ever get old?”

  She shook her head. Her eyes shining. “Never.”

  Then she was knocking gently on an open door and they walked in. Charlotte was settled in a hospital bed wearing a blue cotton gown, looking stunned and proud and exhausted all at once. The baby – looking a whole lot less gross now somebody had cleaned him up and wrapped him in a blue baby blanket – was suckling at her breast sounding like a washing machine cycle. That kid could suck.

  Charlotte reached her free hand out to him and he stepped toward her and took it. “Thank you,” she said. “I think you might have saved both our lives.”

  “No. You were doing fine. And Doc was on her way.”

  “I was so panicked, I don’t know. I might have tried to drive or something.” She shuddered. “Anyway, I called Doug. He’s so happy. He’s on his way back right now.” She sucked in a breath. “I asked him and he agreed. We’re calling the baby after you. Because you were there when we needed you. Evan? Meet Evan.”

  “Wow. That’s—“ He didn’t know what to say. He was so stunned. A lump of emotion suddenly tried to choke him. He cleared his throat to loosen it. “I’m honored. Thank you.”

  “That was a lucky thing you recognized Charlotte when you were coming from the other direction,” Caitlyn said. “Such a stroke of luck.”

  Charlotte’s attention was back on her suckling child, her expression one of overwhelming bliss. She cupped her hand to her baby’s tiny head as though she couldn’t believe it was there.

  “He wasn’t coming the other way,” she said, looking down at her little one. “He was behind me on the road. Luckily for me he pulled over to help me instead of driving past.”