Chapter 8 Winston
WINSTON
“May I have your attention? Excuse me, all passengers, may I please have your attention? Is there a doctor on board? Please, we need your help with another passenger.”
The murmuring of an announcement from a flight attendant has me taking off my headphones, only catching the last of the sentence. “What did they say?” I lean to the left, asking the gentleman sitting next to me.
“They’re asking if there’s a doctor on board,” he says, flipping a page in his book.
I’m not sure how I’ve managed to get through most of my career without being needed on an airplane. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to stand and raise my hand, but I know morally that isn’t the right thing to do. Someone needs help and I’m capable of giving it.
Taking off my headphones, I unclip my seat belt and stand, raising my hand. “I’m a doctor!” I shout, hoping the flight attendant can hear me.
All the passengers turn their heads to look at me, whispering amongst themselves to create a false narrative which can lead to panic.
Two flight attendants wearing a light-blue uniform come from the middle section of the plane, their arms wrapped around the patient.
Her dark hair is a curtain over her face as she groans in pain.
With how pregnant she is, and with how wet her pants are, I can tell she’s in labor thirty-five thousand feet in the air, and we’re still at least an hour away from our destination.
The passenger lifts her head, her hair parting to show her face, and my heart forgets to beat.
It’s her.
It’s Dove.
She’s pregnant.
My vision sways with the realization that there is a chance that this baby might not be mine. I can’t jump to conclusions, no matter how badly I want this child to be ours.
Another flight attendant steps in front of me to hide my view of Dove. “Sir, did you say that you’re a doctor?” she asks in a panic, the color in her face draining of any life.
“Yes, I am. I’m the chief of surgery at Warrick General Hospital. What’s the status of our patient?” I whisper, keeping my voice low so no one else can hear me.
I don’t want to cause a panic.
“Come with me and you’ll be able to tell us, because I have no idea.” She steps aside to allow me to walk in front of us. “Just through those privacy curtains. She’s lying down.”
I groan in annoyance. “Why is she lying down?” Worry consumes me knowing Dove is in so much pain right now. She’s also not in the best position to give birth. I hate that the norm is for women to lie down, when squatting is what’s most beneficial.
I rip the curtains to the side to see my Dove lying on the ground. She can’t see me yet since I’m coming from behind her. My heart beats in wild, nervous tandem with every step I take to get closer to her.
“Ahh, god!” she screams, her hands clutching her belly.
Before I kneel beside her, I point to a flight attendant and glance at her name tag. “Nancy, please get a few airplane bottles of vodka, a few warm rags, and if you have a clean blanket, that would be great as well.” I unbutton the cuffs and roll my sleeves to my elbows, kneeling beside Dove.
Nancy nods fast. “Okay. Okay, I can do that.” She rummages through the cart, snagging a handful of vodka bottles.
“I’ll grab the blanket,” another attendant offers.
I’m not going to bring up anything regarding our past. That isn’t the place, and now is not the time. We can talk later. I refuse to be that selfish, even if all I want to do is ask Dove if this baby is mine.
“Great. Thank you.” I push the hair out of Dove’s face. “Hi, I’m Dr. Warrick. What’s your name?” I make sure my voice is soft and gentle, not wanting to startle or stress her with a harsh tone.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. “Winston,” she whispers on a yelp. “Oh my god, this can’t be happening. What are the chances.” She screams again, clenching her teeth to get through the contraction.
I bend down and whisper into her ear. “You don’t have to act like you know me. We can talk later. Don’t let me stress you out more. I’m only here to help. That’s it. Everything else can wait, okay, sweetheart?” I lean away to see her face.
Her big blue eyes are filled with tears but she nods, grabbing my hand so hard, she might break it. “I’m glad you’re here,” she manages to say, sweat covering her forehead and top lip.
“Me too, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want any other doctor here. Let’s have your baby, okay?” I’m doing all I can to remain calm and collected.
There’s a slight tremor in my hand from nerves, knowing that this could very well be my own son or daughter I get to deliver. What are the chances of us meeting on a damn plane? After all the attempts to look for her, we meet here. The universe has an odd way of bringing people back together.
“Okay, Dove. I’m going to have to take your pants off to see how dilated you are. Unfortunately, a few flight attendants might see you.”
“I don’t care! Just get this damn baby out of me!” She screams the last sentence so loud, it echoes through the entire plane, no doubt making other passengers worry about what’s going on.
I tug her pants down and toss them to the side. “Where’s the vodka?”
“You’re drinking?” Dove screeches, narrowing her tired eyes at me.
I chuckle, unscrewing the bottle to dump over my hands. “No, I’m doing what I can to make sure I’m sterilized.” I empty one bottle on my left hand and forearm then do the same to the other. “By chance are there gloves on this plane?” I ask Nancy.
“No, no gloves. Sorry. We aren’t prepared for situations like this.”
“I figured. It didn’t hurt to ask.” I give Dove my full attention. “I’m going to check to see how dilated you are and then we can figure out where to go from there, okay? If we’re lucky, you can hold out until the plan lands.”
“We have thirty minutes,” Nancy informs us.
“See? We’re so close. Sometimes labor takes hours—”
“Hours!” Dove screeches, her hair damp with sweat as another contraction hits. She snags my wrist again. “You better hope this baby flies out of me or so help me, Winston.”
Threats are completely normal during a time like this, but I should have been smarter with my wording. Who would want to be in pain for hours?
I ease my fingers inside, my brows raising to my hairline. “Okay, we don’t have hours. Dove, you’re fully dilated. How long have you been experiencing contractions?”
“I—I don’t know. I thought they were Braxton Hicks.
I even went to the doctor to get approved for travel and Dr. Leighton said they weren’t contractions I needed to worry about.
It’s happening. This is happening. Okay.
” She breathes in and out. “I can do this. I can do this in an airplane with no epidural. Plenty of women do it every day, right?”
Holy shit.
It was her at the hospital. She’s been right under my nose the entire time.
“You can do it. I have no doubts. Do you think you’re able to get into a squatting position for me? It will be easier for you to push. It opens the pelvis. I can help you.”
“I don’t know.” She squeezes her eyes shut and a tear drips from the corner. “I don’t think I can. Not alone.”
I run my knuckles down her face. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not alone, isn’t it?” I give her a soft smile, hoping it brings her peace.
Taking her hands in mine, that familiar spark warms my veins, sending an electrical impulse throughout my entire body. The universe is telling me I’m exactly where I need to be with who needs me the most.
And I never plan on being away from her ever again. I’ve already missed too much. I’ve missed every doctor’s appointment, every day she didn’t feel well, every opportunity to massage her back and ankles.
I’ve missed it all.
Which means baby number two will have to happen in the future, because I refuse to miss anything else when it comes to building a future with the woman I’ve been dreaming of since day one.
“Nancy, I need you to hold her for support, okay?
“Okay. No problem.”
“No. No. Go get Muffin,” Dove pants.
“You want a muffin right now?” Nancy asks, holding Dove’s shoulders to be there for support.
Dove exhales an annoyed breath. “No. Muffin. The guy who sat next to me on the plane. He’ll be able to support me more. No offense, Nancy. You seem like a really nice person but I’m feeling kind of violent right now and I’m in a lot of pain. I need someone who can handle that.”
Nancy nods in understanding. “No problem at all. I’ll get Muffin and I’ll be right back.”
“Who’s Muffin?” I ask, spreading her legs a little wider.
I can’t hide the jealousy no matter how hard I try.
“He’s an old biker I met today on the plane. He’s so nice. He made me feel comfortable, and I know it’s weird because I’m half-naked, but I’m giving birth in an airplane without my family and friends around. I’d like to have someone here who makes me feel at ease.”
I swallow the emotion clinging to my throat, wishing I could be that person instead of the doctor that has to help.
“I understand.”
“Little lady?” Muffin’s booming voice has me turn.
The man is a giant. He has to bend down to prevent hitting his head on top of the plane when he enters through the curtains.
“Muffin.” Dove begins to cry. “I’m in labor.”
“I see that. What do you need from me?” he asks, taking off his sunglasses and hat.
“I need you to support her. She’ll need to hold on to something to push,” I order, noticing the head is about to breach. “Okay, you need to get behind her now. Dove, this baby is coming right now, okay? There’s no time. We can’t wait until we land.”
“We have fifteen minutes. Can she wait?” Nancy asks.
Dove narrows her eyes at the flight attendant. “Bitch, would you want to wait?” She screams when another contraction rips through her. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I didn’t mean to call you a bitch.” She digs her nails into Muffin’s arms, and the man doesn’t flinch a muscle.
I can see why she preferred him.