by Liz Isaacson
As soon as the pain was tolerable, she moved. Got herself behind the wheel of her car—which wasn’t an easy feat—and started the drive. She called her mom and said, “I think the baby’s coming. I’m on my way to the hospital.”
Her mom sucked in a breath. “I’ll get in the car in an hour. I was planning to get packed up next week.”
“I know.” April’s emotions quivered. “She’s coming early.”
“Who’s driving you?”
“I’m driving myself.”
“April, no.” Her mom sounded scared. “Where’s Megan?”
“She and Landon are at church.”
“So what? Call her.”
“Okay,” April said. “I will as soon as I hang up with you.” April regretted the fib, but she wasn’t going to bother Megan. She hung up and placed her phone on her leg for easy reach.
In the back of her mind, she’d thought Ted would take her to the hospital. She’d never allowed the idea to come to the forefront of her mind, had never vocalized it. But now that the moment was here, she realized she hadn’t made any plans with Megan, because she’d had Ted.
And now she didn’t.
Or did she? He had called that morning and invited her to church. He had told her he loved her last night. Those feelings didn’t disappear overnight just because he’d said he didn’t think things would work out between them.
So why had he ended things between them, only to call her twelve hours later?
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as the town came into view. She knew the answer: He was as confused as she was. Bolstered by that theory, she made it past the church without searching for his truck. She wasn’t sure she could drive by without stopping if she saw it.
She made it past the city limits and onto the open highway that would take her to Vernal, to the hospital, to the rest of her life. She took a deep breath, which turned out to be a good thing as another contraction descended immediately after that. She eased up on the accelerator, but managed to keep her car on the road. It helped that no one else seemed to be out this Sunday morning, but as soon as April realized that she was literally all alone on this lonely stretch of highway a tidal wave of fear crashed over her.
The minutes passed and she finally arrived at the hospital, her contractions now only about four minutes apart and lasting what felt like an eternity. She didn’t know where to park or how far she’d have to walk, so she navigated herself to the emergency entrance, and collapsed into a wheelchair, panting. “I’m in labor,” she said to the desk clerk, who stood and came to help her.
“Are you alone?” the woman asked.
April pressed her lips together and nodded.
“Well, let me get someone to take you up to labor and delivery.”
“Thank you.” April’s voice sounded like she’d breathed in helium, and thankfully the next person who came to help her didn’t ask her anything but her name. A contraction hit just as she arrived at the nurse’s station in the labor and delivery wing. She had to wait for it to subside before she could give her doctor’s name and her vital info.
A nurse wrote it all down for her and then she was wheeled into a delivery room. She was left alone again, and as she undressed and put on the gown she’d been given, April thought this would be the most uneventful birth in history.
Things happened very quickly after that. Nurses seemed to come and go every few seconds. Her blood pressure was taken. Her temperature. Questions were asked, and her doctor arrived wearing a white shirt and tie and checked her. “We’re getting close,” he said. An older gentleman who’d delivered Megan’s babies, April had liked him. He had kind, blue eyes that locked onto April’s now.
“Have you decided what to do?” he asked.
All activity in the room slowed. April had to decide if she was going to keep the baby or not. Right now.
No one was here to help her. Not her mother, who had planned to come several days early to be there for the birth. Not Megan, who April hadn’t even called. Not Ted, who had always been at her side whenever she let herself think about actually having a baby.
“April?” Dr. Johns came to her side and took her hand in his. “Do I need to get the social worker so she can begin the paperwork for an adoption?” He gazed down on her the way she imagined her father would. “There are many families who would love to have a baby for Thanksgiving. You don’t need to worry about that. You can even pick the family.” He punctuated his words with a smile that eased some of April’s fears.
The snakes and serpents that had come whenever April thought about giving her baby up for adoption came back in full force. She shook her head. “No.” Her chin wobbled and her chest shook. “I’m going to keep the baby.”
“All right.” Dr. Johns turned back to the nurses and said, “I’ll go get changed and prepped,” before leaving.
April didn’t know where she’d put her phone, so she couldn’t call anyone now anyway. Reality sunk in: She was going to have this baby all by herself.
She took a deep breath and laid her head back against the pillows. This wouldn’t be easy. But she didn’t mind, because she knew it was right.
Two hours later, her labor had officially stalled. Dr. Johns was worried the baby would start to get distressed, but so far the heartbeat looked steady and strong. The contractions hadn’t progressed though, and frustration had started to set in.
Her phone had also gone off several times, and she’d finally asked a nurse to retrieve it from her purse for her.
Megan had called twice and texted double that. April wouldn’t be able to put off answering her for much longer, especially as her last text said, I’m going to call your mom and then the police if I don’t hear from you in the next ten minutes.
It had come seven minutes ago. The first call would get Megan the information she wanted, and in another hour, April wouldn’t be alone in the delivery room. She wanted Megan there as much as she didn’t. Everything was very confusing.
She thumbed out I started having contractions so I came to the hospital. It’s stalled now, though. Just waiting.
Megan called, and April sighed as she swiped on the call. “I’m fine, Megan.”
“You drove yourself to the hospital?” Her voice had probably alerted all the dogs on the ranch, and April imagined them all whining and lining up in the homestead’s backyard.
“No one else was around.”
“Then you make a phone call.” Megan sounded angry now. “I’m coming down there.”
“You don’t need to do that, Megan.”
“You’re not having this baby by yourself.”
“You have your own family to take care of.”
“April.”
“Maybe I want to do this by myself,” she said. “Have you ever thought of that?”
The silence on the other end of the line said that no, Megan had never considered that April would prefer to do things alone.
“Have you talked to Ted?” she asked.
“No.”
“Your mom?”
“Yes.”
Megan sighed, and the indecision came through the line loud and clear. “What are you going to do about the baby?”
“I’m keeping her,” April said. “And I don’t know what will happen after that, but I’ll probably need to stay with you for a little while before I start looking for my own place to live.”
“You can stay as long as you want.” Megan’s words came with choked emotions and the auditory evidence of tears.
“Thank you,” April whispered as a nurse entered the room. “I have to go. Nurses and doctors and stuff.”
“Love you, April,” Megan said, and April felt the affection of the words all the way down deep in her soul. She believed that Megan loved her.
As Dr. Johns checked her progress again and looked at her chart, April felt another type of love. The love of God. She wept, finally feeling like the past she’d been working to overcome had finally been conquered.
&
nbsp; “April, I’d like to get this show on the road. I’m going to strip your membranes and break your water. See if that doesn’t encourage this little one to come.” He continued the explanation of what he’d do, and what she’d feel, and what he hoped it would accomplish. April nodded and gave her consent, part of her thoughts lingering on Ted.
He said he loved her. She hadn’t quite believed him. But now that she believed herself loveable, maybe he had spoken true.
Dr. Johns performed the procedure, and pain poured through April. She groaned, got more meds, and prepared herself when Dr. Johns said, “Perfect. This is exactly what we want.”
Only twenty minutes later, he was telling her to push. And a few minutes after that, the tinny cry of an infant met her ears, along with the words, “Congratulations, April. It’s a girl.”
Tears streamed down her face as the nurses cleaned the baby and then they wrapped the tiny human in white blankets and handed her to April.
She gazed down at her daughter and thought that in this moment, everything was perfect.
Chapter Fifteen
Ted shot to standing when loud, frantic pounded sounded on his front door. Both Stormy and Lolly started barking, and Ted stutter-stepped around them to open the door. Landon stood there, a dark look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Ted’s heart tap danced in his chest, and he hated the sensation.
“Have you talked to April?”
“I called her this morning before church. Asked her to come with me. She said no.” He’d been home for a couple of hours and hadn’t expected to see another human being today. Sure, Megan would invite him to Sunday dinner, but Ted had been planning to decline. He’d make up an illness if he had to.
“She’s in the hospital in Vernal. The baby is coming.”
Ted blinked, breathed, and grabbed his keys. He didn’t hear what else Landon said. Didn’t check to see if he had enough gas to make the drive. He simply knew he had to go, and now.
Every minute fueled his anxiety, and he couldn’t park straight once he arrived at the hospital. He hadn’t been in this hospital before, and he had no idea where to go. He didn’t know if the baby had been born yet, or what April had decided, and a sob worked its way up his throat.
Somehow, over the past five months, he’d fallen in love with April Nox—and her baby. He’d fallen in love with the idea of a life with her, a family.
He punched the button to call the elevator, glancing toward the ceiling. What if she’d already had the baby and they’d taken it away? What could he do then? He knew nothing about adopting a baby or raising a child, but the desperation coating his throat told him he’d do almost anything to have April and her baby in his life.
“April Nox?” he asked at the nurse’s station, and he got a room number. “Is she awake? Has she had the baby yet?”
“Let me check.”
But Ted couldn’t wait. He told the nurse “Never mind,” and headed down the hall. Thirty seconds, he told himself as he arrived at the closed door. He knocked with one knuckle as he pushed open the door.
April lay in the bed, her hair a messy knot on top of her head. She swung her tired gaze toward him, her face lighting up and showing shock when she saw him. “Ted.”
His emotion escaped in the form of a choked sob. He didn’t see a baby anywhere, but he crossed the room and took April’s face in his hands. “I love you.” He kissed her, glad when she let him. “I’m totally mad at you, but I love you.” He ran his hands over her shoulders as if he could tell how she was doing just by touching. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“You ended things between us.”
He shook his head. “Only so you could make smart decisions. I fully expected you to come back to me once you had some idea of what your future held.”
“I kept the baby,” she said. “I named her Emma.”
Ted’s breath caught. “After my mom?”
“I don’t know when I decided,” April said. “To keep her. What to name her. All of it. But somewhere along the way, I decided I wanted you in my life.”
Ted’s confusion multiplied. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He wouldn’t have been so frustrated. Wouldn’t have been dancing around all these months, wondering, hoping, praying he could catch all the moving pieces. Wouldn’t have broken up with her to protect himself.
Her eyes shown with tears. “I didn’t know. I wasn’t trying to lead you on or be difficult.”
Ted pressed his lips to her forehead again. “I know, April-May. I know.” He stepped back, his panic gone now and leaving him exhausted. “So where’s the baby?”
“The nurse took her for a bath. Told me I should sleep.” She yawned, and Ted fell back a step.
“I’ll go then. I’ll just be in the waiting room.”
“Don’t go,” she said, reaching one hand toward him. He returned to her side, threading his fingers through hers and taking the empty chair at her bedside.
He let a few minutes go by in silence. “We need to talk.”
“I know, but Ted.” She turned her head toward him. “Can we just be today? Please?”
Though he didn’t want to just be, he said, “Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks.” She closed her eyes again, and when the nurse wheeled in the baby a few minutes later, Ted leapt to his feet. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the little bundle in the clear plastic container, and he reached for it.
“Can I?”
The nurse looked at him. “Are you the father?”
“No.” Ted’s fingers tingled as he peered down at the tiny girl, her skin pink, her eyes closed. “But I want to be.”
“He’s fine,” April said sleepily.
“She needs to eat,” the nurse said. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”
Ted watched her go, sure he’d break the baby if he tried to touch her. He locked eyes with April. “Can I hold her?”
“Have you held a baby before?”
Ted couldn’t think of a single time, and he shook his head, suddenly filled with fear and nerves. “Maybe I shouldn’t.” He licked his lips, unsure of the last time he felt this unsettled.
April giggled. “Oh, go on, cowboy. Surely you’re not afraid of a baby.”
He glanced at April. “I’m totally afraid of that baby.” He looked at her again. “She seems so frail. How big is she?”
“Seven pounds,” April said. “Felt like a lot more when she was inside, trust me.”
Ted squeezed her hand. “I’m going to pick her up now.”
“Just support her head.”
“The head, right.” Ted slipped one hand under the infant’s head and lifted the baby up in a single swoop. Her head sat on his forearm, but he could hold her in one hand easily. He tucked her against his chest as she squirmed and grunted, and if Ted wasn’t already in love with her, the way she relaxed and snuggled into him solidified it.
“She’s wonderful,” he whispered. He sat on the edge of April’s bed and volleyed his gaze from Emma to April. “What are you going to do now? And don’t say I don’t know.”
April scowled but the gesture softened. “I’m going to look for somewhere to live in town.”
Ted’s hopes soared toward the clouds. “Brush Creek, you mean? Or some other town?”
“There you go again,” she said. “You and your endless questions.”
His defenses rose. “April, remember when you came to my house and said you needed to know how I felt about you to make decisions? That’s where I am. I am in love with you. I want this baby to be mine.” He glanced at the sleeping baby girl, and his heart took courage. “So you’ll forgive me if I’m the one who needs some answers now.”
She sat up, her dark eyes sparkling. “Here’s your answer. I love you too, Ted, and I want to be with you.”
A smile crossed his face, her words a welcome balm to everything he’d been worried about. “So we can be a family then.”
“There’s a long way to go to be a family.” April sighed and leaned back.<
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Ted frowned. “I don’t think so, April. We get married and you move in with me. Boom. We’re a family.”
The color left her face. “Married?”
“Yeah, married.” He chuckled. “That’s what people do when they love each other.”
She swallowed and looked away. “I know.”
Ted didn’t understand. “April, tell me what’s goin’ on in your head.”
She closed her eyes. “Ted, I already asked for one day without all this talk.”
Stung, Ted stood. “All right.” He extended baby Emma toward her. “The nurse said you need to feed her. I’ll go find the cafeteria.” He didn’t let himself look fully at April as he passed the infant to her. And he didn’t let himself look back when he walked out.
Hours later, Ted found himself in the small chapel in a wing of the hospital he thought he’d never be able to find again. He sat in the front row this time, the candles before him false and lit by tiny red, blue, and yellow bulbs that allowed them to stay on all the time.
Darkness had fallen seemingly all at once, and the stained glass window in front of Ted wasn’t opaque the way it would be when the sun shone through it. The depiction of Mother Mary was still beautiful and it still spoke peace to Ted’s soul.
He wished he wasn’t so pushy, so impatient, with April. But he saw the wisdom now in what Walker and Tess had done, and he thought he’d like to marry April right here in this chapel so he could take her and Emma back to his cabin with him. The thought of her going back to the basement, or worse, another house down the canyon didn’t sit right with him.
He didn’t trust himself to go back to her room in the maternity ward and keep his mouth shut, and he didn’t want to make her or himself any angrier than necessary.
He’d always pushed April with questions. He just hadn’t realized until that afternoon that it was a flaw, that it genuinely bothered her, that he should make an effort to change. He could do it; he could figure out how to exhibit patience with April instead of pushing her for answers.