Joe bent and whispered in her ear, because the band was so loud. He asked her to dance. Helen smiled and rose shakily, suddenly nervous. The band was playing a set of fifties love ballads: “In the Still of the Night,” “My Prayer,” “Unchained Melody.” All around them couples danced, holding each other tightly, surrendering to the dreamy mood. Joe pulled her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to relish the man’s body, so different in length and breadth from Worth’s, against hers. His strong thighs touching her thighs. His broad chest against her bosom. She saw Sarah Chamberlain in her sweeping white bridal gown snuggled up against her new husband, both of them deep in private rapture. She could not quite remember such bliss. Joe’s hand, warm against her back, caressed her as he pulled her closer, and he moved his hand down until he was touching the cleft of her lower back. Joe was divorced. His ex-wife lived on the West Coast; she never came to Nantucket these days.
I could do this, Helen thought. I can do this.
The music ended. She stepped back and met Joe’s eyes. The look he gave her caused a rush of heat low in her belly, a flood of desire.
Helen said softly, “Oh, dear.”
Joe said, “When can I see you?”
She answered, “Monday. Worth goes back to Boston on Monday.”
Now the music started again, this time fast music that had people twisting and shouting. Joe kept his hand on her arm as he ushered her back to her table.
“My house,” he said. “What time?”
“In the afternoon. I’ll say I’m shopping.” Even as she spoke, she regretted it. She was sure she wouldn’t show up.
“Mom.” Charlotte clutched Helen’s wrist.
Helen’s heart lurched guiltily. Was she being so obvious?
“Mom,” Charlotte said again, “listen. Suzette’s having contractions.”
Helen looked across the table. Suzette was crouched on her chair, hands on her abdomen, frowning and panting. Teddy knelt next to her, his hand on her back, his face blazing with alarm.
“It’s too early.” Helen spoke her thoughts aloud, trying to make sense of what she saw. “Maybe they’re Braxton-Hicks. False labor,” she explained to her daughter.
Forgetting about Joe, Helen hurried around the table. She knelt next to Teddy, her scarlet skirt pooling around her. “Suzette? Have you been timing your contractions?”
“They’re five minutes apart,” Teddy told her.
Suzette’s face glistened with sweat, but as a contraction lessened, she took a deep breath and whispered desperately, “I don’t want to lose the baby. Helen, I’m scared.”
Helen put her hands on Suzette’s shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine. Your baby will be fine. Teddy is here, and I’m here, and we’re going to get you to the hospital right now. Can you stand up?”
Suzette’s eyes were wide, the whites showing like a frightened animal’s. “I think so.”
“Teddy, take her left arm.”
Helen took Suzette’s right arm. She and her son levered the young woman up and slowly walked away from the ballroom. Helen was vaguely aware of the glances from people sitting at other tables. She could feel the buzz of conversation resonate at this end of the room. They managed to get Suzette out into the lobby before another contraction gripped her, and she moaned and bent double.
“Hold her, Teddy,” Helen instructed her son. “Take as much of her weight as you can.”
“Helen,” Suzette gasped. “It hurts.”
Helen kept her arm around the young woman’s back. “Yes, I know, but that’s natural, that’s all right.”
“Oh, no.” Suzette shuddered, her body swayed, and her knees buckled. Helen heard the splash of liquid, and saw moisture spreading beneath Suzette’s feet.
“Your water broke, Suzette. You remember your childbirth classes, right?” Helen looked over Suzette’s head at Teddy. His face had gone white. “Teddy.” When her son glanced at her, she said, “It’s going to be just fine. This is all normal.”
Grace swept up to them, her neck stretched, jaw pointing outward, nostrils flared. “What in the world are you all doing? So rude, leaving the reception—oh, my God!” Grace stared at the puddle of blood-tinged water at Suzette’s feet. “Of course you would have to do that here.”
For one brutal moment, Helen wanted to slap her sister-in-law. Instead, she ignored her. “Teddy, we’re going to drive Suzette to the hospital. It will take less time than calling an ambulance and waiting for it to arrive. We’re going to walk Suzette out to the porch. I’ll get the car. You keep supporting her.”
And then, all at once, Worth was there, resplendent in his tux, strong and tall. He said to Helen, “She’s in labor?”
“Yes. Her water just broke.”
“Ooooh.” Suzette tried to stifle a moan as her body was cramped by another contraction. She sagged between Helen and Teddy.
“Let me hold her,” Worth told Helen. “I can support more of her weight. You get the car.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Grace exclaimed, to no one in particular.
Helen eased herself from Suzette’s heavy grip as Worth slid next to her, wrapping his arm around her just beneath her shoulders. Helen turned and ran out of the club, through the large parking lot, until she found the rented Saab. She yanked open the door and dropped down into the driver’s seat, clumsily knocking her knee against the door as she did. Her hand was shaking so hard she could barely stab the key into the ignition, but finally she managed it; she hit the gas and the car roared to life. She steered it to the porch, where Suzette, Teddy, and Worth were waiting. As they helped the pregnant woman into the car, Helen saw Charlotte come running through the lobby. Whit Lowry was behind her.
“Oh, wow!” Charlotte looked in the window. “Suzette, I’m coming to the hospital. I’ll be right behind you.” She glanced around frantically.
“I’ll drive you,” Whit told Charlotte, and they ran to the parking lot.
Teddy was in the backseat, Suzette half seated, half leaning on him. Helen drove away, her hands trembling on the steering wheel.
From the passenger seat, Worth reached over and put his warm hand on Helen’s. “Take a deep breath. Focus, Helen. The hospital is only a few minutes away. Suzette is young and healthy. She’s doing fine. We’re all doing fine.”
His voice was low and calm, and the words he spoke were very much like the words he had said to her when she was in labor with their three children, especially the first time. But each time she had been frightened anyway; it was the unsureness of it all. She had never remembered how ferocious the pain was. The pain always seemed so violent, Helen had thought it indicated a problem, something wrong with the baby or the labor, and her fear had intensified her agony.
“Teddy,” Worth said, turning to his son, “take a deep breath. Breathe evenly, and help Suzette get her breathing in control. She’s going to be fine.”
Teddy nodded, but just then Suzette cried out in agony and her body arched upward on the seat.
“Dad, Dad!” Teddy yelled. “What can I do? What can I do?”
“I’m going to die!” Suzette screamed. “Help me, please help me!”
“Listen, Suzette.” Worth’s voice was calm but forceful. “You’re not going to die. This pain is normal. This pain is natural. You are not going to die. You might be in transition.” He glanced over at Helen, whose hands were clamped for dear life onto the steering wheel. “Doesn’t this sound like transition?” He turned back to Suzette. “If this is transition, you’ll have your baby any moment now. Look, here we are, almost to the hospital. Teddy, take deep breaths. Suzette, hold Teddy’s hands. Squeeze them when the pain is the worst.”
Helen sped into the hospital parking lot, braking to a halt next to the emergency room door so hard the car nearly skidded. In the backseat, Suzette screamed and screamed, while Teddy yelled, “You’ll be all right. We’re at the hospital. You’ll be all right.”
Before she’d turned the engine off, Wor
th jumped out of the car, ran into the hospital, and came back with a wheelchair. Suzette was in the throes of a contraction, so they could only wait patiently until it had ended. Then Worth helped Teddy ease Suzette from the car and into the wheelchair.
“I’ll park the car,” Worth told Helen. “You go with them.”
She was so grateful to him for understanding her need she almost wept. “Thanks.”
They entered the hospital through the automatic doors. An orderly was there to help Teddy steer Suzette down the long hall to the elevator. Helen stopped at the desk to fill out the necessary forms, then raced off to the maternity ward, holding her long skirt high as she pounded up the stairs, too anxious to wait for the slow elevator. The second floor of the small hospital was quiet and dark—it was after ten o’clock—and Helen was led to Suzette’s room by the sound of her shrieks. She stepped into the room but stayed by the door.
Two nurses were with Suzette, who had been somehow maneuvered onto the high hospital bed. They were helping her undress and don a hospital gown. Once she was resting against a pillow, a nurse did a pelvic check. “Six centimeters.”
“No!” Suzette cried. “That can’t be right! I’m in transition! They said I was in transition.”
“You’re not in transition,” the nurse insisted. “You shouldn’t push yet. You’ve got a while to go.”
“But I can’t!” Suzette wailed. “I can’t do this anymore!”
“Sure you can,” the nurse assured her pleasantly. “You’re young. You’ll be fine.”
Helen spoke up. “Her due date isn’t for another month.”
“Oh, an eager baby,” the nurse cooed. “I love eager babies.” She smoothed Suzette’s hair. “We’re going to put the fetal heart monitor on you now. It won’t hurt you, and it won’t hurt your baby. Standard procedure.”
“Oh, no!” Suzette screamed. “Here it comes again! Fuck this!” She arched her back in anguish.
“Father,” the nurse said to Teddy, “could you go to the other side of the bed, please? And perhaps you might help her focus on her breathing. Talk to her. Show her how to breathe.”
Worth entered the room, breathless from running. “How is she?”
Helen told him. “Six centimeters.”
Charlotte rushed into the room, followed by Whit. “How is she?”
The nurse looked up from the monitor. “Too many people in the room.”
“Right,” Helen said. “Let’s go out in the hall.”
Charlotte reared back with alarm when she heard Suzette shriek. “Is she all right?”
“She’s in labor,” Helen told her daughter. “She’s in pain, but the answer to your question is yes, she’s all right.”
They remained in a cluster by the door, all of them straining to hear, longing to help, feeling helpless. A doctor they didn’t know swept past them and into Suzette’s room.
“He looks annoyed,” Worth said.
“Probably had to leave a party,” Charlotte told her father. “It is Saturday night.”
“Babies can be so inconvenient that way,” Helen said jokingly.
Suzette’s scream peaked, then softened. After a few more minutes, Teddy came out into the hall. He’d undone his tie, and it hung limply against his shirt. His blond hair stuck out in odd places, as if he’d been pulling it. “They’re going to give her an epidural. They said it could still be hours yet before the baby comes.”
“You’re kidding!” Charlotte cried.
Helen put a steadying hand on Teddy’s arm. “Is there anything we can do? I know. We’ll go home and get you a change of clothing.”
Teddy wore a lightweight navy blazer that had once belonged to his grandfather Herb. He grinned. “Oh, I don’t know, Mom, I kind of like the idea of dressing up for my child’s birth.”
“Will you phone us the minute the baby’s born?” Helen asked.
“Absolutely.” Teddy answered his mother but looked at his father when he said, “Thanks for helping us tonight.”
Worth nodded brusquely, and then, surprising Helen and Teddy, too, he leaned forward and hugged his son. “Good luck in there.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Suzette screamed again and Teddy turned. “I’ll call.” He disappeared into the labor room.
The others lingered for a moment, and then Whit said, “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Charlotte, let me know if you’ve got a niece or nephew, okay?”
“Of course.” Charlotte went up on tiptoes to kiss Whit’s cheek. “Thanks for driving me.”
Whit strode off down the hall. Helen, Worth, and Charlotte discussed who would drive which car; Charlotte’s rented Jeep was still parked at the yacht club. They decided that Helen would drive Charlotte back to the club, and Worth, who had ridden in with his daughter, would go home now with Helen. When they arrived back at the yacht club, Worth got out to hold the door open for Charlotte.
“The party’s still going on,” he told Charlotte. “Go enjoy yourself.”
Charlotte smoothed down her pink silk gown. “Really? That seems so heartless. I feel like I should be—oh, I don’t know, pacing the hospital floor and wringing my hands.”
“That wouldn’t help Suzette,” Helen told her.
Charlotte looked uncertain. “Well, okay. I’ve got my cell phone in my bag. Call me the minute you know anything.” She waved at her parents and went into the club.
Helen and Worth were alone in the rented Saab. For a moment Helen was intensely uncomfortable, as the silence and the dark evening settled over them like a kind of tent, enclosing them from the rest of the world. She did not want to be in this close, intimate space with her husband. Sharp pinpricks of anxiety, excitement, and a strange and private exhilaration—Joe Abernathy!—stabbed her mind. Part of her still lingered at the hospital, in that room with Suzette, in labor with Suzette, for the young woman’s cries had summoned up a surprising sense of envy and desire. She wanted to lean back against the seat and close her senses against the present and remember her three deliveries. Suzette’s screams had made Helen viscerally recall her own labor pain. The intensity. The passion.
“I can’t help but think of the night Oliver was born.”
Worth’s voice made Helen jump. Giving herself a little shake, she steered the car out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“I remember how hard you clutched my hand,” Worth said in a low musing tone. “I had bruises—”
But Helen did not want to play that sweet game. “Does Cindy have children? Did she describe her birth experiences to you?”
Worth went quiet. They rode through the dark streets, past the various shops and restaurants, and then they were at the rotary, leaving the commercial buildings behind.
“Cindy doesn’t have children,” Worth said at last. “Helen, I’ll tell you anything you want to know about her, but I don’t particularly want to talk about her. I’ve told her it’s over between us, and I don’t want to think about her anymore. I want to think about you, us, our family. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you that I’m sorry. I want our marriage. I need our marriage.”
Helen listened to him, and his words did give her heart ease.
“Say something,” Worth urged.
She almost snorted. All their lives, she had been the one coaxing Worth to talk, she had been the one babbling out her innermost thoughts. “Worth, it helps to hear you say you need our marriage. I’m glad. But you know what? I think I’m overwhelmed. My fuses are all blown. I’m so excited and concerned about Suzette and her baby, I’m not sure I can think clearly about anything else.”
His voice was terse, as if he’d been rebuffed. “You were the one who brought Cindy up.”
She didn’t reply. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
At home, Helen changed out of her satin skirt and silk top and into practical clothes, white capris and a loose lightweight navy cotton sweater, so that she would be dressed and ready to rush to the hospital the moment the call came. She lay down on the bed, telling
herself she knew she wouldn’t sleep but would rest, should rest, and the next thing she knew, the sun was spilling through the windows. She sprang up, alarmed. It was so late! Surely Suzette had had the baby by now. Why had no one told her?
A look at the clock calmed her down. It was only five-thirty. Stepping quietly, she made her way through the upstairs and down to the kitchen. She was the only one awake. She couldn’t believe she’d slept through the night. She thought of Suzette, still in labor. She thought of Worth. She thought of Joe Abernathy his warm, thick, muscular body against hers.
“Well, you look like the cat who ate the cream.” Charlotte came in from the mudroom. “Any news?”
“The phone hasn’t rung. Or at least I didn’t hear it. Do you suppose I should call?”
“I don’t know. I suppose. Are you making coffee? I’d love some.” Charlotte fixed herself a bowl of cereal, sank onto a chair, and with the lithe grace of the young and slender, pulled up her legs and crossed them Indian style. She looked like a child. “I don’t suppose you’d man the farm stand for me this morning? Suzette’s been doing it, and it’s August, and I’m swamped.”
“Of course,” Helen told her daughter. “It will help me pass the time.”
The call came at eleven-thirty Helen was enjoying herself at the stand, exchanging friendly banter with the customers, some of whom she knew, when the Chrysler suddenly came down the dirt driveway, Worth at the wheel. He was beaming. “It’s a girl. Six pounds. All her toes and fingers.”
Helen jumped up so fast she nearly knocked over the table. “Oh! Oh! Oh, Worth, a little girl!”
“Come on, get in,” Worth said.
Charlotte drove up behind Worth in her rented Jeep. “Go on, Mom,” she called. “I’m going to close the stand.” She held up a hastily contrived sign:
BEACH GRASS GARDEN CLOSED TODAY AS WE WELCOME BRAND NEW BABY GIRL WHEELWRIGHT!
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