EPILOGUE
NINE MONTHS LATER.
DRAKE
D octor Drake to the Emergency Room!
Doctor Drake to the Emergency Room!
Doctor Drake to the Emergency Room!
My entire life flashes before me as I sprint down the hospital hallway. I got the call that Wanda went into early labor while I was at my Lake Mead clinic, and it was all I could do to not hyperventilate to death on the mad dash over.
Bursting through the ER doors, I almost cause ten new emergencies in my frantic rush to get to my pregnant wife, to make sure she’s all right, that our babies are all right, that everything in our perfectly perfect life stays perfect.
“Wanda!” I howl, looking around the ER in a mad desperate search for my wife. “Wanda!”
“Um, your wife is already upstairs in recovery, Doctor Drake,” says a somewhat cautious nurse from my left. “The delivery was quick and smooth. No complications. They’re all waiting to see you. The elevators are just down the hall and—”
And nothing, because I’m already running down the hall and bounding up the stairs. I’ve never been this nervous about anything in my life, but then again, nothing’s ever been this important to me before.
Within moments I’m up on the fourth floor of the Maternity Ward. Out of consideration for Wanda’s parents, we instructed the hospital to give us a room no higher than the fifth floor because of Mama and Papa Turner’s issues with fire-truck- ladders. Doesn’t matter that all hospitals have multiple fire-escape routes and about a zillion fire-prevention failsafes.
But right now I feel like a failure as a husband for not being here for Wanda as she gave birth to our twin babies. My heart is hammering against my chest as I thunder down the hall to the recovery room, and when I burst through the doors and see my beautiful wife cradling two bubbly babies, a son and daughter who have Wanda’s rosy cheeks and my eyes, my heart almost explodes with the overwhelming gush of pure love.
“Ohmygod, Drake, are you all right?” Wanda gasps when she sees me desperately panting and heaving and laughing and crying all at once. “Didn’t they tell you everything was all right, no complications at all, that there was no need to rush?”
I can still hear the echoes of “Doctor Drake to the Emergency Room” but I know it was all in my head. Just the hallucinatory paranoia that comes when you suddenly realize you’ve got something precious in your life, something perfect in your life, something to protect in your life . . . fuck, who would have thought unconditional love was so damn stressful!
“They’re so beautiful,” I mumble as I lean over the hospital bed and kiss each of my perfect babies. Then I kiss my perfect wife, a long slobbery kiss that makes her giggle and push me away for air. “Are you all right, Wanda? How do you feel?”
“Great,” says Wanda cheerfully. “Handed in my PhD Dissertation this morning. Then I went into labor. Now I’m here. And the twins are here. Easy as pie. How was your day, honey?”
Backing away from the bed, I stare at my perfectly cool and collected wife who just juggled a PhD and twins without even breathing hard. And here I am a nervous wreck, about to turn into Papa Turner and start biting my nails down to stubs as I worry about my new family, my new babies, my—
“Hey,” comes Wanda’s voice through my swirling mind, the joy of fatherhood mixing with the sudden realization that I can never fail my wife and babies, have to be there for them every moment of every day, in every single tiny way. “Breathe, Doctor Drake. Deep breath in, hold for a few seconds, exhale slow. That’s it. Good. Well done.”
Calmness oozes through me now as I squeeze into the big bed beside my wife and plant my new babies on my chest. They look at me with googly eyes, drool all over my neck, and I’m totally and completely in love with them.
Just like I’m totally and completely in love with my Wanda, I think as I snuggle her close, our babies gurgling in our arms. We stay like that until Mama and Papa Turner visit and leave, followed by my Dad and Mom.
Eventually it’s just us again, just our little family, and that’s true perfection.
Because no matter how imperfect we are as individuals, we’ll always be perfect together.
Together for ever.