by Amy Daws
“Well, for the charity we’re working on, of course,” Sedgwick answers, but his face falls as his eyes meet Tanner’s. “Was I not supposed to say?”
“I was going to tell you about it,” Tanner replies smoothly, a quiet confidence in his tone that comforts me. “It’s all just come about the last couple of days. Sedgwick and I only came up with a name for it yesterday.”
“What kind of charity?”
Sedgwick answers. “It’s called Shirt Off My Back. It’s a nonprofit Tanner is starting to help feed those in need and find them shelters, clothing, and jobs.” He gestures to himself as if he’s the prime example. “Tower Park is partnering with us.”
You could knock me over with a feather right now. My throat closes up and I nod woodenly, overwhelmed by this new information. Finally, I croak out, “Well, that is exciting indeed. You must let me help somehow.”
I glance at Tanner, who smiles and kisses my temple. “I would love that.”
Sedgwick’s eyes sparkle. “Well, go on. The match is about to start. I’ll be seeing more of you two very soon, I’m sure.”
We say our goodbyes to Sedgwick and begin our journey to our seats, swerving through the crowds of people drinking beers and eating food. The longer we walk, the more I become overwhelmed. I’m in awe of how much Tanner has achieved in the short amount of time I’ve known him. He went from a slutty, self-sabotaging footballer to a grown man in a relationship and starting up a charity. It’s…humbling.
I halt our movements and Tanner turns to face me, concern marring his beautiful features.
“Belle, are you all right?”
I nod. Smile. And kiss him like I’ve never kissed him before. Right in the middle of people buzzing around us. Right in our dopey T-shirts.
I pull away after feeling satisfied and murmur against his lips, “You’re crazy cool, Big Spoon.”
He chuckles against my cheek. “You’re crazy cool, too, Little Spoon. Now control yourself, woman. We’re in public for Christ’s sake.”
I look out to see several people’s mobiles pointed at us and I don’t even care.
When we find our seats, I’m stunned by the familiar couple I see sitting in the two chairs beside ours.
“Vi?” Tanner exclaims, cutting a serious look at Hayden. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here. You should be at home with your feet up.”
Tanner ushers me next to Vi and the two men bookend us.
Vi’s blonde ponytail bounces as she rolls her eyes and rubs her belly. “Oh stop. I couldn’t miss this match.”
“Wouldn’t miss this match is more like it. I tried to stop her,” Hayden defends, his eyes strained from obvious stress over having her here. “I all but laid down in front of the cab. It was either go with her to the match or die. I can’t die, man. We have a baby coming.”
I stifle my giggle because Tanner’s face is still so serious. “Vi, this isn’t smart,” he says, shaking his head.
She smiles softly at him. “I needed to be here for you. I know today is hard.”
My heart lunges at her sweet words, and I can see the manipulation tactics she’s pulling over on Tanner right before me. His face turns soft and he half smiles his gratitude. Oh, she is good. This is how she has those Harris Brothers wrapped around her finger. I must have her teach me all the things.
Vi’s pretty blue eyes fall to our shirts, taking them in for the first time. “Man! Had I known you were wearing those I would have had a T-shirt made, too!”
I frown and ask, “What would yours have said?”
She looks at me as if I’m stupid. “Baby spoon, of course!”
We all laugh. Even stressed-out Hayden’s eyes alight with amusement.
He puts an arm around her. “Remember, no screaming at the refs or the players, or I’ll be carrying you out of here like a baby. I mean it.”
Vi nods solemnly and puckers her lips up to Hayden until he leans over and kisses her. They are so cute, I could die.
And here Tanner and I are in our stupid fucking T-shirts.
Tanner tweaks my sides excitedly when the Bethnal Green Pride song begins and the team comes running out onto the pitch with the energy of a thousand galloping horses. The crowd goes wild as our men in green and white line up on the sidelines for player announcements.
When Booker Harris is announced over the PA system, he jogs out in his brightly coloured keeper’s shirt and waves a gloved hand to the crowd. His eyes search the stands until finds us. Grinning sheepishly, he makes a beeline our way. Everyone watches with curiosity as he hops over a couple of barricades and comes to stand right below our row. He raises his fist to us and Tanner leans over the rail and knuckle bumps him. Pride and sincere happiness drip from every part of his body.
The crowd erupts even louder as Booker blows a kiss to Vi who’s full on bawling her eyes out at the tender exchange between the two brothers. Two teammates. A family bonded together through football.
He turns and runs back out to join his team as the crowd begins to chant, “Harris, Harris, Harris.”
Goosebumps tingle all the way from my head to my toes at this incredible moment happening here at Tower Park.
Tanner’s chin wobbles as he turns and offers a quick wave to the crowd, further stoking their cheers. When he faces the pitch again, I watch his jaw tick as he struggles to control his emotions. Vi utters a choked sob as Tanner pulls me under his arm and presses his forehead to my hair, clearly overwhelmed by everything as well.
Suddenly, we see Vaughn Harris emerge in front of us on the sidelines, clipboard in hand, and a small smile on his lips. He cups his hand to the side of his mouth and mouths, “We’ll see you next week.”
Tanner nods, narrowing his eyes with focused determination. And with that single, solitary look, I know he’s ready to get back to work and find his stride again.
The commentator continues with the visiting team announcements when, out of nowhere, I see Vi hunch over in her seat.
I bend down next to her. “Vi, are you all right?”
Her eyes are pinched as she nods. “Yeah, just a weird cramp. Braxton Hicks, I’m sure. I’ve been getting those a lot.”
“Are you sure?” Hayden’s voice is laced with concern as he squats down beside her. “Damnit, Vi, I don’t like this.”
“I’m fine!” she crows, standing up straight and then freezing. She reaches out and grips mine and Hayden’s forearms.
“Belle, can you do me a favour and tell me if I’m bleeding?” Her voice is trembling with fear and anxiety as her grip tightens on me.
Hayden’s eyes find mine and I school my features to look calm, cool, and collected. I quickly bend down and see a wetness all over the crotch of her jeans. Thankfully her jeans are light.
“It’s clear, Vi.” I glance up at her and add, “Your water just broke.”
“Oh fuck!” Hayden and Tanner say in unison, Tanner just now catching on to what’s happening before us.
“Bugger, bugger, bugger!” Vi crows. “I’m going to miss the match.”
“Stuff the match, Vi. You’re having our baby!” Hayden roars.
She nods, schooling her features into crisis mode. “All right, we’re going to go.” She makes a move to get past us and says, “You guys have fun. We’ll see you after.”
“After?” Tanner barks. “What do you mean? I’m coming with you!”
“Oh stop! You don’t have to do that, Tan. It could take hours. Right, Belle?”
I shrug unhelpfully because I have no clue where her contractions are to even guess. This is a standard issue when you’re a doctor. People look to you for answers as if you have them, even without a proper examination.
“I don’t give a fuck,” Tanner barks. “You’re not taking a bloody cab to the hospital, Vi.”
“Well, you don’t have a car!” she argues.
Tanner digs into his pocket and pulls out a key fob. “I have the spare set to my truck. Booker drove here, so it’s in the players’ lot. We
’ll take that.”
“Great!” Vi winces from what I can only assume is a contraction. “One big happy family.”
Hayden and Tanner usher Vi up the stone steps until we’re out the door.
“You stay with Vi while I run and get the truck.” Tanner passes Vi’s arm to me and jogs off down the sidewalk at lightning speed.
“Can you believe the odds?” Vi croaks, dropping down onto a bench and cupping her round belly. “I mean, bloody hell, I walk Bruce almost every day and nothing. One tearful moment with my brothers and BAM! Baby’s coming!”
I laugh. “Are you feeling all right?”
She exhales. “These cramps are coming and going a lot, but I’m okay.”
“How often are they coming?” I ask, pulling my mobile out so we can time them.
“I don’t know,” she croaks. “It’s too intense to tell.”
My eyes widen and lock on Hayden, who looks equally concerned.
Tanner pulls up right when another contraction hits. We file into the truck—me next to Tanner, then Hayden next to me. Vi is sitting by the passenger door, holding the “oh shit” handle on the roof of the vehicle.
I lean over to whisper in Tanner’s ear, “I don’t want to alarm your sister, but her contractions are only two minutes apart. You need to step on it.”
Tanner’s eyes fly wide and he punches the gas, driving like a bat out of hell. Thankfully, The Royal London Hospital is right up the street. I only quit working there a few months ago and know it better than any other hospital. I pull out my mobile and call to let them know we’re coming in and it’ll likely be a quick delivery.
“Christ, Tanner!” Vi bellows as he slams the brakes in front of the accident and emergency entrance. “You’re driving like a complete moron.”
“Excuse me for not being well-versed on driving my sister to the hospital while she’s in fucking labour,” he roars, and I place my hand on his thigh to calm him.
“So dramatic,” Vi mumbles as she opens the door and inches her way out of the vehicle.
A familiar nurse comes striding outside with a wheelchair as I round the truck. “Hello, Dr. Ryan! Nice to see you again. We miss you around here!”
“Oh, hi, Liz.” I offer her a wave as Hayden and Tanner help Vi into the wheelchair. She moans softly with another contraction. “I’m so glad it’s you working OB today. I think she’s going to go quickly. Take good care of these guys. They’re…important.”
Liz gives me a jolly thumbs up and begins pushing the wheelchair inside. Hayden freezes beside Tanner and me, a look of sheer terror on his face.
“You’ve got this, Hayden,” I state, grabbing his arm in encouragement. “You love her. She loves you. That’s all you need to do this.”
He swallows hard and nods. Before running in after her, he turns and falls into Tanner and me with an awkward, strangled hug.
“Thanks, guys,” he croaks and then he’s off to start his family.
I stare across the sterile tile floor over at Booker’s boots that have bits of the pitch wedged between the studs. He’s still in his kit, his keeper gloves off and moving them from one hand to the other as we sit in the waiting room of the hospital.
Beside him sits Dad, still in his official Bethnal Green polo. Next to Dad is Gareth, just having arrived five minutes ago by train. Camden and Indie are seated next to Belle and me. And perpendicular to us is Hayden’s family, the Clarkes. They consist of his mum, his dad, his younger sister, and his older brother whose wife and one-year-old child are fast asleep in a chair beside him.
We first met the Clarkes at Vi and Hayden’s engagement party. It was the same night Vi found out she was pregnant. She ended up telling all of us—Cam, Gareth, Booker, and me—in her bathroom. We might have forced it out of her a bit, but she was having a meltdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.
I know Vi and Hayden weren’t planning on this baby at this time in their lives, but watching them embrace this adventure together and become stronger for it has been inspiring. Family goals.
All of us are unified again, filling a large waiting room, silent and anxious to hear any shred of news.
Booker scoffs, “Christ, you’d think Hayden would have texted by now. Something!” Frustration radiates off his shoulders as he looks toward the double doors that lead to the delivery rooms.
Camden’s voice pipes up next. “What could be happening in there, Indie? It’s after eleven and it’s been hours.”
Indie and Belle look nervously at each other, and I can feel the Clarkes all staring at them expectantly.
“What aren’t you girls saying?” Dad’s voice booms with authority.
“Dad, calm down,” I snap, not liking the tone he’s taking with Belle and Indie.
“I will not calm down!” He stands up and begins pacing the floor. “Christ, how has Hayden not texted someone something? Anything. This is ridiculous.” He cuts his eyes to Belle. “You said she was close when she arrived almost five hours ago. I’m going to get answers.”
Gareth stands up, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll go, Dad.”
Just as he moves to make his way to the nurses station, the double doors open and Hayden comes striding out, completely swathed in blue scrubs and a surgical cap.
We all stand, our breaths held high in our shoulders as he pulls the mask off his face. Breathlessly, he confirms, “Everyone is okay. Vi and the baby are wonderful. They’re—” His voice cracks, his eyes dumping unexpected tears down his face. “They’re so beautiful.”
Gareth’s closest to Hayden, so he places a firm hand on his back and pulls him into a hug. Hayden all but loses it. He was obviously holding on by a thread before. Now that he’s had time to think, it’s all hitting him at once.
Hayden’s brother, Theo, pushes past everybody to stand beside him. When he claps his back, Hayden lets go of Gareth and clears his throat loudly, nodding to his brother that he’s okay. We wait as he chokes back his emotions and regains control of himself.
“The baby’s heart rate kept dipping every time Vi started to push, so they did an ultrasound and discovered that somehow she had turned around in there and was breech.”
I turn when I hear Belle intake a sharp breath.
“They rushed her in for an emergency C-section. It all happened crazy fast. Then, when they pulled the baby out, her colour was off. It was terrifying, but there were doctors right there and they rushed her off to the NICU straight away. I wanted to stay with Vi, but she screamed at me to go with the baby, so I did.” Hayden’s face crumples with more tears, and Belle begins trembling beside me. I take her hand and clutch it firmly against my chest.
“They got the baby’s oxygen levels up rather quickly and said she was looking really good. That the NICU was only a precaution and she could go meet her mummy. But then—” He clears his scratchy throat. “Then a nurse came in and told me there was a tear in Vi’s uterine wall and she was losing too much blood. They had to put her under in order to repair it. But she’s okay now.”
Hayden’s mum releases a quiet sob as Hayden covers his face with his hand, his entire body racked with cries. “I’m sorry. Everyone’s all right. Everyone’s fine now. Vi’s awake and has just properly met the baby for the first time. They’re moving them both to a patient room now.”
Hayden finally looks up, his eyes wide and tearful. He looks at his brother and adds, “I can’t believe how close I was to losing them both in one fell swoop.”
Dad steps in front of all of us and grabs Hayden by the shoulders. “You didn’t lose them. They’re okay, son.”
Hayden wipes his face and sniffs. “But to think that Vi was bleeding like that and I left her. She had to have been so frightened.”
“You took care of my granddaughter. You did what a good father should. You did what Vi wanted. Everyone is okay now.” Dad’s voice is choked with just as much emotion, but his words seem to help.
Hayden nods woodenly and pulls the scrub cap off his head. “They put u
s up in a big room, but I’ll have to take you back in shifts.”
Hayden’s mum speaks up, looking straight at Dad. “You all go first. Go see your daughter.”
FOR AS LONG AS I’VE been a surgeon, there’s this little tickle I get on the back of my shoulder blade whenever a patient is about to go downhill. It’s like a small electric pulse that tingles with a sense of foreboding. I don’t know if it’s some sort of mental intuition or just a fluke, but it almost always occurs right before things take a turn.
So whenever I get that tingle, I’ve learned to stop what I’m doing and wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
And then it happens. Monitors start going off, a bleeder sprays, pressure drops. Then it’s the rush of problem-solving in order to right what went wrong, push the correct meds, stop the bleed, and send them into emergency surgery.
Sadly, it doesn’t always end in my favour. I remember all of the patients I’ve lost. And with foetal surgery, I don’t just remember the baby, but the mother as well. Mostly because if the baby dies in surgery, then the mother has to subsequently deliver them afterwards.
Stillborn.
It’s the worst part of my job.
But without surgery, the baby has little to no chance of survival. So the rewards of a healthy baby outweigh the risks of a dangerous surgery. That’s how I get myself through the bad cases. Through the losses.
We give the doomed a chance at salvation.
With Vi, I felt the tickle as soon as we were outside of Tower Park. Everything happened too quickly. Her contractions were coupling, coming out of nowhere, one on top of the other. And then to hear nothing for hours was alarming. Indie and I kept exchanging worried looks but couldn’t say anything. We were on the wrong side of the doors.
But it all could have turned out so much worse. What if we hadn’t got them to the hospital in time? Would there still be a baby? Would there still be a Vi? Suddenly, I wonder if the rewards are worth the risks. When you’re talking about a person you know and care about, and not just a name on a chart, everything feels different.