by Lois Richer
“I say we do it,” Joel said. “I’ll be able to get even with Jenn when the men win this time. You’ll remember we headed up the opposing fund-raising teams last year.”
“Who could forget?” Autumn laughed. “You two were so cutthroat, Gram thought she was going to have to offer you Dad’s old apartment at their house.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Pastor Joel said.
“Not quite.”
“Hey, to keep my marriage intact, you two should head up the teams this time.”
Autumn looked at Jon. His jaw tensed. What was with him and the mission project? He seemed to run hot and cold on it. As soon as they were done talking with Pastor Joel, she was going to ask him.
“Think about it.” Pastor Joel checked his watch. “Sorry, I have to run. We’re having a short evangelism committee meeting after coffee hour.”
Pastor Joel left them in the vestibule outside his office and sprinted off toward the fellowship hall.
Jon broke the silence. “Pastor Joel surprised me.”
“How’s that?”
“His wanting to get even with his wife over last year’s fund-raiser.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t known him long, but it seems out of character for the person I thought he was.”
“He was kidding. He and Jenn were working together toward a common cause.”
“Then the competition didn’t affect his marriage, his relationship with his wife? You said your grandmother...” He dropped his gaze and scuffed his foot against the tile floor. “Never mind.”
She touched his forearm and he looked up. “There’s something bothering you about the mission project, the competition.”
He glanced toward the fellowship hall. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Okay.”
They moved away from the voices and laugher coming from the hall.
“My family, my parents—” he cleared his throat “—are very competitive professionally. I spent my childhood in the middle of them trying to one-up each other about their accomplishments, about me, about anything they could turn into a contest. And, believe it, they weren’t working together toward anything.”
“Oh.” Autumn didn’t know what else to say. The Jon she knew at Samaritan was a stickler for doing things a specific way and always ready to take on another birth or to fill in for another resident. She’d thought he’d done it to impress, show he was better than the others, to be number one. But now, after working with him at the birthing center, more likely he wanted to get as much experience as possible. To be the best doctor he could be. Something they had in common, and that drew her to him. It made her want to know more about Jon the man, rather than Jon the doctor, and whether that trait carried over into his personal and spiritual life.
He kicked a stone across the parking lot with the toe of his boot, looking so vulnerable, like the lost little boy she imagined he once was.
“We don’t have to have a competition. We can brainstorm other ideas at our next meeting,” she said.
He straightened to his full height. “No, if that’s what the group wants, that’s what we’ll do.”
“All right, then.” She guessed how hard it must have been for him to talk about his parents. She sensed he didn’t share family details with many people and felt special that he had with her.
Autumn took in his stiff, righteous stance and bit her lip. She couldn’t laugh, she couldn’t. But he looked like he was about to face a firing squad. “I won’t be that hard to work with.”
“You said Joel and Jenn worked together, not against each other.” He seemed to be talking to himself as much as to her. “It doesn’t have to get personal.”
“True.” Autumn’s mind drifted back to sitting in church with Jon. The problem was that it did seem to be getting personal for her, and she was uncertain what to do about it.
* * *
The sound of her cell phone drew Autumn away from the kitchen window, where she’d been admiring Jon mowing the back lawn. He’d offered his services to her father, said he needed the exercise. One last look at his broad shoulders and trim waist belied that statement. But she welcomed not having to do the lawn herself, although considering all the dessert-tasting Mrs. Hanlon had for her, she probably should volunteer to trade off with Jon.
She froze when she saw the birthing center contact service number on the caller ID. She wasn’t supposed to be on the on-call list anymore, not since she’d stopped presiding at births. “Hello,” she choked out.
“Autumn?”
“Yes.”
The service employee identified herself. “I’m trying to reach Dr. Hanlon. He’s not answering either one of his phones.”
Autumn relaxed and leaned against the kitchen counter.
“I thought since you live next door, you could see if he’s home and ask him to call me. If he’s not, let me know.”
“He’s here.” Autumn glanced out the window again. Jon was pushing the mower back toward the house. “He’s out mowing the lawn. Hang on, I’ll take the phone out to him.” This was one of the times when living in a close-knit community where everyone knew everyone else’s business was a good thing.
Jon reached the flower bed next to Autumn’s back door at the same time she opened the door. She waved her phone at him and he turned the mower off. “It’s your service.”
He stepped over and took the phone from her, turning away to take the call. He handed it back when he was done. “I have to go. I’ll finish the lawn during the week.”
“One of your mothers?”
“No, actually, it’s someone here on vacation. She’s...”
Autumn understood when he stopped. Confidential information. “Don’t worry about the grass. If I get ambitious, I’ll pick up where you left off.”
He sprinted over to his back door and went in. Her phone rang again. “Hi, Dad. What’s up?”
“I’m glad I got you. You need to get over to the birthing center.”
“What?”
“Christie Reynolds wants you there.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Christie’s gone into labor early. She and her family are vacationing at the lake house her parents always rented when you were kids.”
That Autumn knew, and she felt guilty that she hadn’t gone over yet and visited with her. They’d been great friends the summers Christie’s family had vacationed at Paradox Lake. She started to say she couldn’t deliver Christie’s baby, especially if it was premature, when she realized Jon’s call must have been about Christie.
“Anne and I have her four-year-old with us. Your grandmother is driving her to the birthing center right now.”
“So what did you need me for?” Even if she were still birthing babies, she would have called Jon in for a premature birth.
“Christie’s husband isn’t here. He wasn’t coming to join them until Wednesday. Christie wants you there for moral support. She doesn’t know Jon. She’s pretty freaked.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know how things go. Bye.” Autumn heard Jon’s car start and hurried to the front door to see him speed off before she could get his attention.
Twenty minutes later, she entered the center. “Hi, Autumn,” the woman at the front desk said. “They’re waiting for you.”
She went back into the birthing suites.
“Autumn, I’m so glad you’re here.” Christie rushed over and hugged her. “She’s coming too early.”
“What happened?” Autumn glanced past Christie to Jon. Her head was full of questions she wanted to ask. But after his admission this morning, she didn’t want to appear as if she were competing with him over Christie. He was the medical provider in charge.
Jon nodded, iPad in hand and his paper pad sticking out of his pants pocket. “We
were just getting started.”
“I’ve been having twinges the past couple of days. I didn’t think they were contractions. I was going to call you yesterday, but I didn’t have your number. I tried your dad, but no one was home and I decided I was being overly concerned. It’s not my first baby. I thought they felt like the false labor I’d had with Connor. Then this morning my water broke. That’s when I called your dad, and your grandmother drove me in.”
Autumn had been so focused on Christie that she hadn’t even noticed her grandmother in the suite.
“The pains I’m having now aren’t twinges.”
“How often?” Autumn and Jon said in unison.
“Not often. I had one on the ride here and one while I was checking in. None since.”
“When is your due date?” Autumn asked.
“Not for another four or five weeks. Connor came really fast. He surprised my doctor. Autumn, I’m scared.”
Autumn squeezed her hand. She was, too. The center wasn’t set up for high-risk babies. Christie’s eyes pleaded with her for more assurance. Her friend Suzy had looked at her the same way when the complications arose during her baby’s birth. At times like this, Autumn could see why some practitioners preferred not to treat people they were close to.
“How fast did your son come?”
Christie turned at Jon’s question. “In about six hours. My doctor said that was quick for a first baby.”
Jon’s eyes narrowed. He was probably calculating the time needed to get Christie to either the Adirondack Medical Center hospital or Albany Medical Center. If it were her call, she’d choose Albany Med, even though Adirondack was an hour away and Albany was two. Albany had one of the largest and most sophisticated neonatal intensive care units in the East.
“Did you call your doctor?” Autumn asked.
“I talked to him before I called your dad. He asked me if I could get to the hospital in Albany. I told him my transportation situation and that I knew you, that you’re a midwife here at the birthing center. His office called the birthing center.”
“I talked with Christie’s obstetrician while she was getting signed in and her vitals checked,” Jon said.
So Jon already knew all the things she’d been asking Christie, except how fast her last birth was. The surprise on his face had been plain when Christie had said six hours.
“Her doctor wants us to have Christie transported to Albany. He’s making the referral. Would you call the emergency services and arrange it? You can use the phone in my office. It’s open.”
Before Autumn could answer, Christie doubled over and wrapped her arms around her stomach.
Jon looked at his watch, obviously checking the time since her last contraction. He eyed the electronic fetal monitor.
Christie straightened. “I’m okay,” she said before Autumn or Jon could ask.
“I’ll be right back,” Autumn said. She’d let Jon decide whether to put Christie on the monitor. This was his birth.
“I’ll walk out with you,” her grandmother said. “Christie, we’ll all be thinking about you and the baby.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hazard.”
Once they got into the hall, Autumn cracked. “Gram, what if something goes wrong, bad, like with Suzy? I couldn’t handle that, not again.”
Her grandmother hugged her. “You’re not alone. You have Jon and the medical people in Albany to take over. That is, if you get her to Albany. Don’t you have a call to make?”
Autumn pulled back from her grandmother’s embrace. “Right, the ambulance service.”
“I’ll get the church prayer chain going for Christie and the baby and for you and Jon.”
“You’re the best, Gram.”
* * *
Jon jotted a note in his pad while he waited for Autumn to return. Christie was on the phone with her husband, asking him to meet them at the Albany Medical Center. He glanced at the doorway. Where was she?
“Sorry I took so long.” Autumn stood at the door motioning him out.
“What?” he asked, closing the suite door behind him.
“There’s a big pileup on the Northway. I couldn’t get any ambulance service. Ticonderoga, Moriah and Schroon Lake have all responded, so they’re not available. Elizabethtown is on standby. They can’t go to Albany.”
He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, running through his options. Letting anything happen to mother or baby weren’t among them. They could wait until transportation was available, calling in one of the local pediatricians if they had to deliver here. He and Autumn could drive Christie to Saranac Lake, where the facility was a little better equipped for a premature baby. Saranac could air transport to Albany later, if necessary. Or... He pushed away from the wall.
“We’re going to have to transport Christie to Albany ourselves.”
Autumn paled.
“It’s our best option. We can get there in two hours. She won’t have the baby before then,” he said with a certainty he didn’t feel. Babies followed their own time schedule.
“I could try one of the emergency squads south of here. It would take them a while to get here, but they probably weren’t called to the accident.”
“No, the best plan is for us to take her. In your car. It’s bigger. Do you have gas?”
“I filled up yesterday.”
“We can do this. I’ll get the equipment. You go tell Christie what we’re doing. If it gets dicey, we can go to the Glens Falls hospital. Glens Falls is, what, about halfway to Albany?”
“Yes.” Autumn pushed her hair behind her ears. “We could make Glens Falls.”
“Of course we can.” He paused. “That accident isn’t on the south side of the Northway, is it?”
“I don’t know. I was so frustrated with none of the ambulances being available that I didn’t ask.” She swallowed her fear. If the route south was blocked, they could be in big trouble.
Chapter Thirteen
Cars were backed up miles for the accident, which fortunately was on the north side of the Northway. Jon sped by them, acutely aware of Autumn and Christie talking in the backseat. Their words were punctuated every so often by a quiet groan or quick intake of breath by Christie. He timed the groans by the dashboard clock.
“Glens Falls is the next exit. How are we doing?”
“Fine,” Christie said. “The contractions are sharper, but no closer together.”
“I know. I’ve been timing them,” Jon said.
Christie laughed. “So has Autumn.”
He wasn’t surprised. When it came to practicing obstetrics, he and Autumn had a lot in common. Maybe in other ways, too. But since he didn’t plan to stay in the North Country, it wouldn’t be fair to Autumn to find out, as much as he might want to.
“We’re good for Albany, then?” Jon caught Christie nodding in the rearview mirror.
“All systems go,” Autumn replied. “As long as the contractions don’t start coming too fast.”
Twenty minutes later, Christie let out a sharp, “Ouch.” She gasped. “They’re getting stronger.”
Jon checked the clock. And closer.
“We’re only a half hour, forty minutes tops, away from Albany Med,” Autumn said in a soothing voice. “Right, Jon?”
“Right.” He pressed the gas pedal harder and increased their speed another five miles an hour. The hint of a quiver he heard in Autumn’s question had increased the pounding of his heart. He breathed deeply. He’d delivered premature babies before and hadn’t lost one of them. They were minutes away from a state-of-the-art medical facility, not in rural Haiti. He cleared his throat. Angie always came first in his thoughts when he faced a challenging birth.
“Jon.”
Autumn didn’t have to finish her sentence. He saw th
e state police car with its flashing lights and pulled over.
“Officer.” He handed over his license and car registration. “I’m Dr. Hanlon. We’re transporting a woman in labor to Albany Med from the Ticonderoga Birthing Center. The local ambulances were all tied up with that accident on the Northway.”
The officer looked in the backseat, where Christie was gripping Autumn’s hand with white knuckles as another contraction racked her. “You should have called it in, Dr. Hanlon. Go ahead. You’ll be good to the medical center.” He waved them off, and Jon merged back into traffic.
“Autumn, call the medical center and let them know we’ll be there within the half hour, so they’ll be ready for Christie.”
“They’re on alert,” she said after she clicked off the call.
When they arrived at Albany Med, a team from The Birth Place and Children’s Hospital descended on them as they helped Christie into the facility. They had her on a gurney and whisked off before he’d finished talking with the attending physician Christie’s doctor had referred her to.
That was close. Jon blew out a quick breath to regain his mental balance and returned to where Autumn was standing. “They’re in good hands. Albany has a top-rated NICU.”
Autumn clasped her hands, concern still etched in her face.
“She’ll be fine,” Jon reassured her.
“I’d like to stay until the baby is born. If you need to get back to Paradox Lake, I’ll get a hotel room for the night.”
“Of course we’ll stay.” Autumn had worked with him enough at Samaritan to know he always saw things through. A pang of old guilt pierced him. Work things. He hadn’t been as conscientious with his social life. He’d tended to let people think what they chose to think rather than tying up any loose ends for them.
“Thanks for staying with me. I’m sure Christie’s husband would let Dad know tomorrow when he came by for Connor. But I can’t sleep tonight not knowing.”
Part of Jon knew he should correct Autumn’s assumption that he was staying for her. It was as much for him as for Autumn. The other part of him liked giving the impression that he cared enough for her to stay because she wanted him to. It was easier than putting how he was starting to feel about her into words she could reject. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep, either,” he said.