Brady and the orderly helped her out of the car and into the wheelchair. Erin nodded her thanks. She didn’t think she could have gotten out on her own power, much less walked.
“Mrs. Lockwood?” the nurse asked.
“Yes,” Brady and Gus chimed together.
The nurse looked at them curiously. “Dr. Pollack’s already here.” They’d received a call from the doctor’s service fifteen minutes ago telling them to be prepared for Erin’s arrival. Exuding efficiency, the nurse edged in between Gus and the orderly with the wheelchair. “We’ll take it from here, Officer, thank you.”
Gus was reluctant to leave. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said to Brady, “I’ll stick around.”
“There’s a waiting room on the fifth floor,” the nurse told him. “It’s meant for expectant fathers who don’t want to be in the delivery room—”
Gus nodded. “Close enough.”
“Thanks for getting us here, Gus. I’ll keep you posted,” Brady promised. He noticed that, despite the pain she was in, Erin was smiling. They were having a baby, he thought. They were really having a baby. Even with all the physical evidence, it still hadn’t completely sunk in.
With an air of regained authority, the nurse turned to look at Erin sitting in the wheelchair. She took a clipboard from the desk.
“We’ll just get you registered and then be on our way.”
“Already done,” Erin breathed, clenching her teeth. It was beginning to hurt really bad. “Last week.” The last thing she wanted was to have to wait in a hallway while someone keyed in her health-insurance information.
The nurse let the clipboard drop back on the desk. She nodded at the orderly. “Then I guess we’re on our way.”
Yes, Erin thought as she watched the corridor walls pass by as they hurried to the elevator in the rear of the hospital, they certainly were. But only one of them was in pain.
She looked so drenched and exhausted, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The frustration that Brady felt rivaled what he’d experienced when he’d tried to remember a shred of his life.
The latter frustration had mellowed. He knew everything he needed to know, he decided. He knew he loved her, and that she was part of his life. She was his life. He had his whole world right in this room, in this hospital bed.
Anticipating her, Brady took a spoonful of ice chips and pressed it to her lips. But Erin shook her head, moving it away.
“No, that’s all right. It won’t help, anyway.”
God, she’d never felt so drained in her whole life. Not even that time she’d gone hiking with her sister. They’d gone on a family camping trip, and she and Alice had accidentally misplaced the camp. They’d hiked for hours, trying to find their way back.
That had been a picnic compared to this. She had been in labor for over five hours. When she had arrived at the hospital, she’d been certain that the baby was going to come in a matter of minutes. The minutes had ticked by, feeding into hours and still no baby.
Erin exhaled a breath she had no energy to expel. When was it going to end? “No wonder they call it labor,” she muttered to him. “I can’t remember ever working so hard in my life.”
“I’m sorry, Erin.”
It was a moment before she realized he was holding her hand. The edges were getting very blurred in the last few minutes. No, the last forty-five, she amended, looking at the clock on the opposite wall. The clock whose minute hand constantly seemed to be getting stuck. It froze every time a contraction hit her.
“For what?” she asked after a beat. What could he possibly be sorry about? He’d been wonderful throughout this.
Brady drew the chair in closer to the bed and sat down. He took her hand in his again, covering it with his own. “For everything. For the pain you’re feeling. For not remembering.” He knew that had to hurt her, that he still couldn’t remember their life together.
She wanted to reach up and smooth away the furrow in his forehead, but that would have taken energy she didn’t have. “You can’t help, either.”
That wasn’t quite the truth. He brushed the hair out of her eyes. It was plastered to her forehead with perspiration. “I got you pregnant.”
She smiled weakly. He was blaming himself. How like him. She wondered if he knew that.
“Yes, but it’s not exactly anything you planned.” She looked at him, trying to remember. Had she told him this already? Things were getting muddled in her mind. “As a matter of fact, you were very much against it.”
He wasn’t now. Brady wanted this child. More than anything in the world, he wanted to hold his son or daughter in his arms. Their son or daughter, he amended silently. But if what she said was true, it raised another question. He knew she wasn’t the type to be underhanded or go behind his back to get what she wanted.
“Then how—?’
That was exactly what she had asked herself when the home pregnancy test had turned out positive. She’d taken the birth control pills faithfully.
“Nothing’s foolproof.”
He swept away one last strand from her forehead. “I’m glad.”
Had she heard him right? There was this rushing sound in her ears. Her eyes searched his for verification. “Are you?”
He nodded, tightening his hand around hers. He could see the monitor from where he sat, the one that showed a contraction coming even before it hit her. Empathizing, he braced himself.
“I wish there was another way for us to have this baby,” he told her, “but I’m not sorry that we’re having it.”
She was going to comment on the “we” part when she suddenly arched, squeezing his hand as another contraction caught hold of her. She hurried the words out, wanting to say them before she was in too much pain to form them.
“You don’t know how happy that makes me. How much I’ve wanted you to want this baby.”
Anything more had to wait. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All she could do was pray.
And then, as before, the horrible pain receded. It was over. Temporarily.
But just as suddenly, another contraction, more fierce than the last one, materialized. She cried out in surprise before she could stop herself. Erin was determined not to scream. Other women might scream and curse, but she wasn’t going to. Her baby wasn’t going to be ushered into the world on a shriek. She bit down hard on her lip.
Concerned, Brady rose from the chair. Disengaging himself from her took a little more effort. “Erin, I’m going to call the doctor.”
Erin shook her head frantically from side to side on the damp pillow. She didn’t want Brady leaving her, even for a moment. She could get through this, as long as he was with her.
“It’s too soon,” she protested with as much strength as she could gather. The doctor had just been in to see her. “It’s supposed to take longer.” Although, if it took much longer, she was sure she was going to die.
Brady was unconvinced. Didn’t one contraction on top of another mean she was ready to deliver? Damn, if this was an experiment in the lab, he would know what he was doing. But here, he was completely at a loss. “Maybe the baby didn’t read the manual.”
He left the room before Erin could call him back. Brady looked up and down the long, dimmed corridor. In deference to the holiday, there were hearts and red-and-pink streamers decorating the walls and doors. He hardly noticed any of it.
Dr. Pollack was at the nurses’ station. She was on the telephone. As he drew closer, it was obvious that she was talking to a new mother, assuaging the woman’s fears about the color of her son’s umbilical cord attachment.
“It dries up before it falls off, Mrs. Nelson. No, really, it’s all right. You don’t have to bring him to the emergency room. It’s supposed to look like that. Yes, yes, it is strange, but nothing to worry about.” Noting the look in the nurse’s eyes, Sheila turned to see Brady behind her. “Just a minute, Mrs. Nelson. I’m going to let you speak to one of our pediatric nurses. Please hold.” She quickly
surrendered the receiver to the woman beside her.
“Yes, Mr. Lockwood?” Sheila smiled reassuringly at him. “Any progress?” She thought it prudent not to point out that she had been in to see Erin only five minutes earlier. Expectant fathers didn’t want logic. They wanted it to be over with.
“I think she’s ready.”
Sheila plunged her hands into the pockets of her white coat. She’d begun wearing it in the last month. It effectively covered her expanding silhouette. “All right, let’s see.”
Entering the room, Sheila took out yet another pair of sterile rubber gloves from the dispenser on the wall and slipped them on. She had to remember to ask the nurse to get her some hand lotion.
Sheila smiled warmly at Erin as she positioned herself at the foot of the bed. “So, Erin, ready to have a baby?”
At this point, Erin was beginning to doubt it was ever going to really happen. “I’ve been ready for the last month.”
Sheila laughed. “Atta girl.” She examined Erin quickly, then double-checked by feeling around the opening. Brady was right. It was time. “One hundred percent dilated,” she declared, slipping the sheet back into place. “We have ourselves another opening and another show.”
Pleased that Erin’s ordeal was almost at an end, Sheila stripped off her gloves and discarded them in the wastebasket. She began to hum a tune as she crossed to the door. The locker room was only a few feet away from the delivery room.
Sheila glanced at Brady. “Oh, you need to get ready, too, Mr. Lockwood. Follow me.”
Brady began to leave, then hesitated in the doorway, looking at Erin.
His thoughts were practically written across his forehead. Sheila took his arm, coaxing him out.
“She’ll be fine,” she assured him. “The nurse will take her to the delivery room.” He followed her down the hall. “We have to get you sterile. Of course,” she looked at him over her shoulder, “if we did that before, you might not be here.”
Sheila stopped before the delivery room and smiled encouragingly at him. “Smile, Mr. Lockwood, it’s going to be just fine. The baby’s heartbeat is strong, and Erin’s a healthy young woman. There’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” She opened a door to the narrow locker room reserved for fathers-to-be. “You’ll find everything you need in there.”
Brady nodded his thanks and went in, closing the door behind him. He changed quickly, the doctor’s assurances echoing in his mind. She seemed so confident, but he knew that there was always a chance that something could go wrong. He couldn’t help worrying. After finding his way back to her, he didn’t want to take a chance on anything happening to Erin.
He supposed the matter was completely out of his hands and in a far bigger pair at this point.
Dressed in off-green livery, Brady pushed open the swinging door and looked around. He wondered if this was the way interns felt the first time they entered a delivery room. His stomach was queasy, and he was really looking forward to having this over with. For both their sakes.
Apparently, he’d beaten the doctor in, he thought. The nurse attending Erin looked up as he walked in and smiled at him. At least he assumed she was smiling. Her eyes crinkled above the blue mask she was wearing.
Brady crossed to the delivery table, taking Erin’s hand. “Hi, stranger.”
“Don’t say that,” she breathed. “Not strangers, not ever again.”
He held her hand tightly. “Don’t worry, we won’t be.”
Sheila entered through another door, leading in from the doctor’s locker area. Her manner was bright and breezy, as if they were gathered for a friendly luncheon rather than the birth of a baby.
“Well, I see all the principal players are here.” The nurse slipped a pair of gloves on Sheila’s raised hands, then tied the ends of her mask on securely. Ready, Sheila seated herself at the foot of the table. Something was missing.
She frowned, looking up. “Rachel, someone forgot to switch the light on today. I won’t be able to see what I’m doing,” she quipped.
The delivery room was bathed in lights, but the one directly behind her was off.
Apologizing for the oversight, Rachel turned on the switch. The incandescent bulb flashed as the filament, in a weakened state, burst from the sudden surge of electricity. Looking straight at it, Brady was nearly blinded by the flash.
A flash of lights. Bright lights. Headlights, coming directly at him.
The air in Brady’s throat caught.
Tires squealed as they came thundering down a street freshly slicked by an unexpected afternoon rainfall.
In an instant, Brady saw himself, felt himself running, then tripping and falling. He was rolling on the pavement, desperately trying to get out of the way of the oncoming wheels.
His wheels. His car.
He was rolling, rolling, crashing into metal garbage cans, his head hitting a brick wall.
Then nothing.
Everything.
Brady’s head snapped up as he heard someone calling his name. He wasn’t in an alleyway. He was here, in the hospital delivery room.
Here with Erin.
“Oh, my God,” he mouthed.
“Mr. Lockwood?”
Sheila had seen husbands and lovers grow pale, and some of them had even fainted in the delivery room during the birth process. This one looked as if he was about to go before the ordeal actually began.
“Mr. Lockwood,” she repeated, raising her voice this time. “If you’d prefer waiting outside, I’m sure Erin will forgive you.” She looked at Erin and smiled knowingly. “In time.”
He was having trouble gathering his thoughts together. There was suddenly so much to sort out. “What?”
“The waiting room,” Sheila repeated again. She looked expectantly at the nurse.
Rachel moved to his side, ready to escort him out of the room.
“No,” Brady said heatedly. Still a little dazed, he looked from one woman to another, and then at Erin. “Wait. I remember.”
Sheila exchanged looks with Rachel. She felt Erin stiffening and knew another contraction was coming. This was no time to begin a prolonged debate with the man. She could only guess at his meaning.
“The class. Yes, I’m sure you do remember, but right now I think you’d be better off if you—”
The doctor didn’t understand. How could she? She didn’t know. “No, I remember.” He looked at Erin, urgency and elation rushing through him on twin chariots. “Erin, I remember. Everything.” Every part of their relationship. The day he met her. Their last argument. It was all there for him to wade through and relive.
She would be a great deal happier right now if her body wasn’t being ripped apart.
“Oh, Brady, that’s wonderful, but right now, I think…we’re…going…to…have a baby!” Oh, Lord, it hurt.
Sheila had no idea what was going on, but at least Brady didn’t look as if he was going to faint anymore. “All right, Mr. Lockwood, if you’re determined to remain, pick up her shoulders,” Sheila instructed.
Brady immediately complied, propping Erin up gently. She felt so thin beneath his hands, he thought. When this was over, he was going to make it up to her, he swore. All of it.
“All right, Erin,” Sheila said cheerfully, “you know the drill. When I say the word, I want you to push. Ready?”
“Now?” Erin pleaded. Every part of her body was begging her to push.
“No, not now,” Sheila cautioned. “Breathe, Erin. Pant until I give the word.”
Brady panted along with Erin, giving her a rhythm to adhere to. The doctor nodded her approval, then signaled. “All right. Now. Push!”
Brady counted down for Erin. As she bore down, he could have sworn he was pushing right along with her. Every muscle in his body tensed and tightened.
To Sheila’s surprise and Erin’s everlasting relief, the baby arrived almost immediately. Overjoyed, Erin collapsed onto the table.
“You have a girl,” Sheila told them. Holding the baby by he
r ankles, Sheila examined the brand-new life that had fallen into her waiting hands. Perfect, she verified. “A beautiful, healthy baby girl.”
“A girl,” Erin whispered. Just as she had hoped. She blinked twice to focus as she watched the doctor hand her daughter over to the nurse. Her daughter. Jamie.
With her last shred of effort, Erin shifted her eyes toward Brady. “You remember?”
Or had that been part of the hallucination that had overtaken her?
“I remember.” He looked at his daughter. “And always will.”
“Oh, Brady,” Erin whispered, tears forming. “I love you.”
He felt as exhausted as if he had pushed the baby out himself. But not too exhausted to smile at the woman who held his heart in her hand.
“I remember that most of all. And that I love you.” His eyes caressed her. “I just didn’t remember to tell you.”
Rachel placed his brand-new daughter in his arms. “But I will,” he promised both of them. “From now on.” Because you never knew just how much time you had, he thought. Or how lucky you were.
“She’s seven pounds and two ounces,” the nurse informed them.
“A 71b., 2oz. Valentine,” Brady marveled.
“Jamie,” Erin said. “We’ll call her Jamie.”
“I can’t think of a nicer gift to get for Valentine’s Day.” He looked at Erin. “Thank you.”
She answered him with her eyes. Emotion had temporarily robbed her of the ability to speak. But he understood and would from here on in.
* * * * *
eISBN 978-14592-8094-6
THE 7 LB., 2 OZ. VALENTINE
Copyright © 1996 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
The 7 Lb., 2 Oz. Valentine Page 13