by April Wilson
I stare at the medic, momentarily stunned when it dawns on me that I can’t be in two places at once. I can’t stay with my wife and be with our son too. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I’ve never felt so conflicted in my life. There’s no way in hell I can leave Beth at a time like this, and yet I can’t send our defenseless son off without us.
Cooper appears at my side, his hand firmly gripping my shoulder. “You stay with Beth. Sam and I will go with Luke. We won’t leave his side.”
“The NICU ambulance has arrived!” Jake says over the comm unit. “Bring him down now.”
The ominous silence is interrupted by the plaintive wail of my tiny son, who’s about to be whisked away from me before I’ve even had a chance to hold him. Before his mother has even held him.
I hold out my hands. “Give him to me.”
Jason nods. “Hold him against your chest, skin to skin. He needs your body warmth.”
I yank open my shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere, and hold Luke’s tiny body against my bare chest, his cheek over my pounding heart. With one hand, I cradle his body against mine, and with the other I close my shirt around him, hoping to insulate him and let the warmth of my body seep into his.
“Good. Just like that,” Jason says. “Talk to him, Shane. Let him hear your voice. He’ll recognize you. I need to check on Beth.”
As I stand there holding my son, rubbing his back, Jason and Lia tend to Beth. Luke’s making noises now, which is a good sign, quiet, fidgeting sounds and plaintive, breathy cries. And he’s wriggling in my arms, surprisingly strong for one so small. I’m relieved to feel his body warming against my chest, but I can also hear fluid rattling in his airway and most likely in his lungs, and that’s not good. I realize with a sick sense of dread that he’s not out of the woods yet.
Beth meets my gaze, her face pale and her expression gaunt. I’m just beginning to realize how having a child has complicated our lives. I need to be with my wife. I should be the one holding her right now, comforting her, not Tyler. But our son needs me, too, and I know that if I asked her, she would want me to take care of him first. It’s no longer just the two of us—Beth and me—we’re a family of three now. And no matter how desperately I want to, I can’t be in two places at once. The realization is sobering.
I move to stand at the foot of the sofa and watch Jason as he tends to Beth. She’s pushing again, straining, although not as hard as before, to pass the placenta. Tyler has taken my place, bracing Beth’s body, supporting her and encouraging her in a low, coaxing voice. Jealousy eats at me like acid. It should be me holding her. It should be me comforting her.
She gives me a small, sad smile as she watches me stroke Luke’s back through my shirt. She’s not even had a chance to hold her own child, and that breaks my heart.
I start in her direction, wanting to give her that chance, when Jason intercepts me and hands me one of the clean towels. “Wrap him in this and take him down to the paramedics. They will have a portable incubator and a respirator for him. Go now.”
Carefully, I wrap him in a white towel and hold him close to my chest. Cooper follows me as I carry Luke downstairs and out the rear door of the restaurant into the alley. There, the two NICU paramedics are waiting.
The woman takes Luke from me without a word and climbs up into the ambulance and lays him in an incubator, while the man follows her in and takes Luke’s vitals. The male rattles off some numbers.
The woman frowns. “His oxygen levels are low,” she says as she attaches a breathing mask to his face.
I stand at the rear of the ambulance and watch the proceedings with fear gripping my gut.
The female paramedic jumps back out of the ambulance. “You’re the father?” she asks me.
“Yes.”
“We’re going to transport him to the hospital in Stowe. From there, he’ll be airlifted to Children’s Hospital in Chicago. They have a first-rate neonatal intensive care unit. They’ll take good care of him.”
I nod, having expected this.
“Do you want to travel with your son?” she says.
My throat closes up. It kills me to say no, but I can’t leave Beth. I shake my head. “I can’t leave my wife.”
“I’m going with Luke,” Cooper says to the paramedic.
The woman looks at him. “And you are?”
“I’m his grandfather,” Cooper says without batting an eye.
The paramedic looks to me for verification, and I nod. “If his mother and I can’t go with him, this man is his next-of-kin. His grandfather.”
“I’m coming, too,” Sam says, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Cooper, staring hard at the paramedic as if daring her to refuse him.
“And you are?” she says.
Sam points to his T-shirt, I’m With Him, and then points to Cooper. “I go where he goes. We’re a package deal.”
“Okay, fine,” she says, looking to me for validation.
I nod, thinking it’s only fitting as we had already asked Cooper and Sam to be Luke’s godparents. “My wife and I will get to Children’s Hospital as soon as we possibly can.”
I watch helplessly as Cooper and Sam climb into the ambulance with Luke and the paramedics, and the doors close. As the ambulance pulls away, something inside me is screaming to go with them. But Beth is still upstairs, and she needs me. I race back inside the restaurant and up the stairs to the attic room.
Just as I approach the sofa, Jason presses on her abdomen, and she pushes, grimacing as she expels the placenta. She’s lying back against Tyler, her eyes tightly shut. Even so, tears are streaming down the sides of her face, and it breaks my heart. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
I drop to my knees beside the sofa and take Beth’s chilled hand in mine, cradling it to my chest. One glance at Tyler tells me he’s hurting just as badly as we are. “Sweetheart? I’m here.”
She turns her face toward me, noting my open, blood-stained shirt with a frown. “Where is he?” she says, sounding a bit disoriented. “Where’s the baby?”
I brush back her hair. “The paramedics took him to the hospital in Stowe. From there, he’ll be flown to Children’s Hospital in Chicago. They have a top-rate neonatal intensive care unit.”
Her eyes widen in horror as my words sink in. “He’s gone? They took him?”
I nod, feeling choked with guilt. I got to hold him. She didn’t. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. They had to. He’s not breathing well on his own. His oxygen levels are low, and he needs help.”
“I didn’t even get to hold him,” she says, giving in to tears. “And he’s alone.” She looks absolutely devastated. “We should be with him.”
“Please don’t worry. Cooper and Sam are with him. They won’t leave his side. He’ll be safe, and he’ll get the care he needs.”
“I have to go with him,” she says, struggling to sit up, even as Jason is attempting to clean her up.
Tyler gets up from the sofa, and we both use gentle pressure to force her back into a lying position.
“Sweetheart, you can’t be moved yet,” I tell her.
“She’s in shock,” Jason says, working quickly to finish up. “Shane, talk to her. Try to comfort her. And get me an ETA on Beth’s transport.”
Jake gives me an estimate of seven minutes on a second ambulance.
While Jason finishes getting Beth ready to travel, I try to comfort her and keep her calm. When the ambulance arrives, I wrap Beth in a clean sheet and carry her downstairs. The paramedics, who are waiting for us outside the rear door to the restaurant, strap her into a gurney and load her into an ambulance. I climb in after them and sit out of the way as the paramedics take her vitals.
Lia stands at the rear doors of the vehicle, looking uncertain. “What do you want me and Jonah to do?”
“Get our clothes and toiletries from the Escalade and ask Jake to bring them to us in the hospital in Stowe. Beth’s purse, too. Then head back to Chicago in the Escalade.” I toss her th
e keys to the SUV. “Update the rest of the families, ours and Beth’s.”
Lia nods, looking more than a little shell shocked. I think assisting in childbirth really shook her. Jonah comes into view, and the moment she sees him, she tears up.
“Hey, tiger,” Jonah says, his voice gentle as he draws Lia into his arms. He holds her close, rubbing her back as he leans down to kiss the top of her head. Her shoulders are shaking as she presses her face against Jonah’s chest.
“Everything’s going to be all right,” he says. “Don’t worry.” Then he holds her at arm’s length to look her over from head to toe. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She nods, wiping her damp face on her T-shirt. “I’m fine. Stop fussing.”
Jonah shares a look with me over Lia’s head. It’s pretty clear to both of us that Lia’s far from fine. Jonah pulls her close again and holds her.
“Just get her back to Chicago,” I tell him. “We’ll regroup at Children’s Hospital.”
Chapter 18
Beth
They took my baby.
He’s gone.
Everything hurts—my legs, my arms, my back. Every muscle hurts, and the area between my legs burns. I’m so cold, I can’t stop shaking, and my mind is numb. I’m slowly sinking into a deep, dark pit of nothingness.
Shane wraps me up in a blanket and carries me downstairs and out the back of the restaurant into an alley where two paramedics wait with a gurney. They load me into an ambulance, and Shane climbs in with me. The ambulance is moving now, slowly, as it makes its way out of the alley and onto the main road. Shane is seated on a bench at the foot of the gurney. That’s as close as he can get while the paramedics loom over me, taking my vitals and inserting needles into my arm.
I glance at Shane, stunned by the stark expression on his face. He looks like a man haunted. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s always so much in control, so self-assured. He watches me intently as the paramedics go about their business, his hand warm and solid on my ankle. Why is he here? Why isn’t he with our baby?
The two paramedics take their seats when the ambulance picks up speed. They’re hashing over my vitals, talking so quickly I’m having trouble following, not that I really care.
“Your wife is in shock,” the female paramedic says. “Her blood pressure is low.”
The other paramedic attaches a tube to the IV needle embedded in my arm.
Someone lays a warm blanket on me, I’m not sure who. I’ve closed my eyes and turned away from their quiet conversation, lost in my own thoughts.
This is all my fault. My baby is at risk, whisked away from me before I could even see him, let alone hold him.
My fault.
I’m the one who wanted to go out of town. None of this would have happened if we’d stayed home. It’s certainly not Shane’s fault. If he’d had his way, we wouldn’t have gone anywhere, and my baby would be safely in my womb, where he should be.
My fault.
Mine.
And now our baby is alone and at risk.
And Shane… oh, my God, Shane must be so angry at me. That’s why he’s just sitting there, watching me so intently. He looks gutted, and I’m sure he blames me. Why wouldn’t he? I can’t bear to look at him. I can’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes, the recrimination. And he has every right to blame me.
The female paramedic pats my shoulder. “We’re almost there, Mrs. McIntyre. Just hold on. They’ll get you fixed up in no time. You’re going to be just fine.”
I can’t stop shaking. I feel so utterly exhausted, and everything hurts. I just want to sleep. I just want to drift away and shut off my brain so I don’t have to think about what I’ve done.
“Beth? Sweetheart?”
At the sound of Shane’s quiet voice, my heart stops. He sounds hesitant, which is unlike him. I can feel his hand on my leg, stroking me, and I have to fight the urge to pull it away from his touch.
The ambulance makes a turn and comes to a stop. I can hear the paramedics jump to their feet and unlock the wheels of my gurney. Then I sense Shane hovering over me.
“Beth?” His warm hand brushes my hair back. Then his thumb brushes the trail of tears falling down the side of my face. “Sweetheart, can you look at me?”
But I can’t. I can’t face him. I turn away, unable to bear the accusation I know I’ll see in his eyes. My throat squeezes shut, choking me.
“Sir?” It’s the female paramedic. “Would you mind stepping out of the ambulance, please? We need to move her inside. Thank you.”
Then I’m moving, quickly, as the gurney is slid to the back of the ambulance. For a moment, it feels like I’m floating in air, and then the wheels touch down on the pavement and I’m wheeled into the hospital.
There are a lot of voices, all speaking rapidly, decisively, and I try to shut it all out. I know what’s going to happen now. Someone’s going to look at me, put stitches in me. I heard Jason telling Shane that I’ll need stitches. That means I tore down there. More pain, more injury to an area that’s already too painful to bear.
Someone reaches for my hand, pulling it out from beneath my blanket to hold tightly as I’m whisked down a brightly-lit hallway. The light bleeds through my eyelids, blinding me. It’s Shane’s hand—big, warm, with calloused fingertips and scarred knuckles. I’d recognize his touch anywhere.
“Everything’s going to be all right, honey, I promise,” he says, squeezing my hand. There’s a frantic quality to his voice that scares me. He must be leaning over me because I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. “They’re taking you to Labor and Delivery, where an OB can examine you and… finish things up.”
We ride up in an elevator, and then travel a long hallway. I hear metal doors bang open, then close, and finally the gurney comes to a stop. When I open my eyes, I’m in a room—a surprisingly pretty one—with cherry-wood paneling and floral wallpaper. A big picture window takes up one wall, and there’s a table with a vase of fresh-cut flowers on it. It looks more like someone’s home than a hospital.
Hospital staff members transfer me to a bed, moving my IV bag as well, hanging it on a pole. A woman comes into the room—a nurse, I presume—and listens to a run-down of my condition.
Shane appears beside my bed, his expression tight as he looms over me, trying to catch my gaze. “Honey?” He gently turns my face toward his. “It’s going to be all right, I promise. Cooper’s been sending me regular updates on Luke. They’re on their way to Children’s Hospital in Chicago right now. As soon as the doctor here releases you, we’ll head back to Chicago, and I’ll take you right to him, I promise. But right now, you need to be seen to.”
When I finally get up the courage to look at Shane, I’m shocked at his appearance. His white shirt is hanging open and stained with blood. The buttons are gone. His chest is stained with blood, too. He looks completely disheveled, his expression tight, his hair tousled. When I finally bring myself to meet his gaze, I expect to see accusation and resentment, but he hides it well.
“Sir?” The nurse appears at Shane’s side. “Would you mind stepping aside, please? I need to take your wife’s vitals and get her prepped for the OB. She’s on her way.”
Shane gazes down at me, a frown on his face. “All right,” he says. But before he steps back, he leans down and kisses my forehead. He squeezes my hand one last time before slowly releasing it and stepping out of the way so the nurse can do her work.
Another nurse appears, holding out a blue scrub shirt to Shane. “Sir?” Her voice is hesitant as she eyes his shirt. “Here’s a clean shirt for you to wear until you get a chance to change.”
Shane glances down at his destroyed shirt and grimaces. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Thanks.” He takes off his ruined shirt and tosses it into a wastebasket, and then he pulls on the clean scrub shirt.
As the nurse takes my blood pressure and temperature, I close my eyes and lose myself in the numbness.
“Here’s something to help you rela
x,” the nurse says as she injects medication into my IV line. Suddenly I feel weightless, as if I’m floating on a sea of warm water.
Feeling nothing is better than feeling so much pain.
Chapter 19
Shane
Something’s wrong.
Beth hasn’t said a word to me since we left in the ambulance. She’s shut herself off, from me, from everyone, and seems lost in her own world. I know she’s been through a terrible trauma, and my heart breaks for her, for all she’s suffered… the stress, the anxiety, the pain. And not just the physical pain of a swift and sudden labor, but the emotional pain of knowing our son has been rushed away for emergency medical treatment. It kills me that she never even got to hold him. But there just wasn’t time.
In hindsight, I realize I should have used my phone to take pictures of the baby. At least then she’d have something to look at, something to hold onto until we’re reunited with him. I could kick myself for not thinking of that when I had the opportunity.
I text Cooper and ask him to take pictures of Luke and send them to me. As soon as the obstetrician is done with Beth, I’ll show her the pictures. I know it won’t make up for the fact that she didn’t get to hold him, but at least it’s something to tide her over until we get to Children’s Hospital.
A middle-aged woman with short blonde hair, dressed in scrubs, comes into the room, her sharp gaze quickly assessing the situation. She shakes my hand. “I’m Dr. Anderson. I’ll be assisting your wife, Mr. McIntyre. I’ll make sure all of the afterbirth was delivered, and then we’ll see what else needs to be done.”