Chapter 25
“H ey,” a voice slices through the fetal echocardiogram I’m reviewing on my laptop. My head pops up and I force a smile. It isn’t all that difficult when the pretty blonde I’ve known since she was a baby comes waltzing into my office.
“Hey, doll. You’re looking glowingly beautiful. What brings you here?”
“Me,” Oliver interjects before Grace can answer. He tosses his arm around his best friend’s shoulders. “You said you wanted to come, but we’re heading out to the compound to talk all things weddings with Mom. I had Grace meet me here. You sure you’re in for this?”
“Yes. I need to talk to Mom too.” Desperately.
“To talk weddings?” Grace snorts.
I grimace. “Definitely not. Are you sure Mom doesn’t already know everything you’re going to tell her before you do?”
“You mean how she does with everything?” Oliver laughs. “Remember when I went to tell her that Amelia and I were fake engaged but actually in love and she was all, ‘yeah, I already knew that. I’m your mother and I know everything.’”
“Exactly my point.” Shutting my laptop, I pull my scrub top and long-sleeve shirt over my head and throw on a clean green long sleeve I have in my tiny closet. “Grace, pants are next.”
She squeals, spinning around and digging her face into Oliver’s chest as I strip out of my scrub pants and throw on a pair of jeans.
“Grace, Baby Owen is kicking me in the junk,” Oliver grunts, angling his body away from Grace’s. “Named after me or not, that’s not something I’m cool with.”
Her head pops up, her hands all wild, whipping through the air.
“He’s been a madman all day. My back has been aching like a SOB and I swear, it’s like my little man thinks my bladder is a trampoline.
I’ve had to pee every five minutes. Do you know how awful that is during surgery?
Do you have any clue how gross bladder leakage when you sneeze can be? ”
“Um. No,” I say. “But since I will never experience the art of growing life and you’re growing my nephew, I will not comment.”
“Wise,” she remarks, tossing me an eyebrow over her shoulder that says if you fuck with me, I’ll eat you for dinner and since I’m eating for two, I don’t mess around anymore.
“Where is Carter?” I ask, kissing her forehead and giving my brother a punch in the arm.
We head toward the exit, and this is what I need.
My family. Feeling grounded when I’m anything but.
I already know Bianca is gone for the day.
Home safe where she belongs. Slash drove her home two hours ago and sent me a picture of her entering her building, but I haven’t texted or called since and neither has she.
I’ve been too much of a mess. Needing to get answers and figure things out.
I owe Bunny every real piece of myself and until I can do that fully…
We have more talking to do. More things to figure out. I have more things to figure out.
“Working until midnight. He’s picking up extra shifts for me because, as of today, I’m on a lighter rotation.”
“And you picked tonight to go talk weddings?” I grouse as we pile into my car and head out into the Boston night. The rain this morning is now a heaping pile of sleet and freezing rain, flooding streets, and slowing traffic.
“It’s our only free night,” they both say together. “And it wasn’t this bad earlier. I thought the weather people said the storm was supposed to dissipate by now,” Grace finishes.
“They lied,” I mutter, rolling my eyes and going with it, merging onto I-90 west toward the compound.
We barely make it to the edge of the city when everything slows dramatically. “What the hell is that?” Oliver leans forward, staring out the windshield. “Fuck. It looks like an accident. A bad one.”
“No kidding. We’re not moving now.” All the cars around us have come to a standstill as what appears to be four or five cars up ahead are piled together.
“Should we get out and go check? Make sure everyone is okay?”
I nod. “Probably, yeah.” I unbuckle my seat belt and throw on my hazard lights. “I have a bag in my trunk full of stuff. Let me grab—”
“Oh my god. Oh no.”
Oliver and I spin around at light speed, both of us staring at Grace, whose gaze is locked between her spread legs.
“Grace, honey?”
Her head rises, her eyes wide with fear and consuming panic as she stares at Oliver first, then me. “Either I just peed my pants or my water broke.”
“What?!” both Oliver and I shout.
“It’s too soon,” she cries, her face flinching as she takes in the mess between her legs, her eyes watering as they glance back up at ours. “I’m only thirty-four weeks.”
Oliver and I stare at each other and then out the ice-coated windshield.
We’re stuck on the highway in the middle of an ice storm with an accident up ahead.
Without another word, Oliver climbs out of the passenger side and immediately into the back with Grace.
I fly out of the car too, racing around and trying not to slip and fall and die as I go for my trunk.
Pressing the button to open it, I find my duffel bag with whatever medical supplies I have in here, grab the blankets and towels back here, and then close it up, going for the back seat where Grace and Oliver are.
Oliver is behind her now, but he’s trying to shift through the narrow back well so he can check her.
She smacks his hand away from her scrub pants. “No, Oliver. Keep your face and hands out of my vagina.”
“Grace, are you kidding me? It should be me who checks you. I’m the family physician.”
“No. It has to be Kaplan,” she demands.
“You want his face and hands between your legs, but not mine?”
“Some boundaries are not meant to be crossed by best friends. My vagina is off-limits to you.”
“Jesus, Grace,” Oliver shoots out. “I’m not trying to get a fucking peep show.”
“Both of you shut up. I’m checking her. Oliver, you help your crazy bestie over there calm down. She’s two seconds from losing her shit and we can’t have that.”
With a grunt and a begrudging growl, he slides in behind her once more, shifting her back to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, kissing the side of her head. “I know you’re scared. But for the record, I’m awesome at checking vaginas.”
“That’s why you’re not allowed near mine. Comments like that.”
She smacks at him, only for him to catch her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Right. Sorry. I won’t crack jokes. I love you and I’ve got you and I’m here for you,” he soothes, but you cannot soothe this situation. My back seat is wet with amniotic fluid, the center of Grace’s scrubs pants completely soaked through.
Flipping on the interior lights, I take stock of everything. “Fluid is clear, so that’s something,” I remark. “You sure picked a hell of a time to go into labor.”
“Yes,” she snaps. “Clearly this was all by design. I thought, ‘hey, Kaplan has a big back seat in his car. Why not try it out as a possible spot to labor my premature child .’ This is why women hate men when it’s time to deliver their babies.”
“No one is delivering anything in the back of my car. We’re going to get you to the hospital right after I check you. Is there any concern about you having a seizure?”
Grace has epilepsy and that’s a whole other piece of “oh shit” added onto this.
“I… I shouldn’t,” she stumbles through, her expression painted in horror. “My last labs were great, and I’ve been taking extra good care of myself.”
Flashing lights and sirens skirt up along the breakdown lane on the left, heading for the accident, and that’s a relief.
At least one situation is being handled and if there are EMS crews nearby, once we have a better sense of what’s going on with Grace, we can have them call for an extra ambulance and—
“Oh! Contraction. Big one.” Her back arches, her hand clasping onto Oliver’s thigh with a ninja-like grip. “Oliver, I have to push.”
“No, honey,” he demands, his voice stricken. He brushes her hair back from her face. “You can’t. Not yet. Just breathe through it. Try humming.”
“Why is this happening so soon?” she shrieks as the contraction tears through her, bringing another gush of fluid, coating her pants and the seat. “Fuck. It hurts and there is a lot of pressure. I need to push.”
My heart thunders in my chest as Oliver and I exchange petrified glances. If she’s getting the urge to push, then this is happening and it’s happening now. Which means I’m delivering my nephew. My premature nephew, in the back of my car.
I throw up a silent prayer and suck in a solidifying breath.
“You’ve probably either been in labor all day and didn’t realize it or you’re having precipitous labor.
” Opening up the bag, I quickly dig through, taking an inventory of what I have and what I need.
Christ, I haven’t delivered a baby since my intern year and even then it was in a hospital with ten other doctors, residents, med students, and nurses around me.
With Owen being premature, I have no idea what his lungs will be like.
Illuminating an emergency lantern, I shift Grace to put a towel under her and toss the blanket over her lap.
Oliver speaks to a 911 operator on the phone, telling them our location and that we need a NICU ambulance.
My hospital has one and I know Brigham and Women’s does too and since we’re on that side of town-ish, hopefully it won’t take them forever to get here.
Then again, we’re stuck in an ice storm in unmoving traffic behind an accident.
Unfortunately, other than fluids for Grace, that ambulance won’t have shit that can help us and they’re dealing with whatever is going on over there.
I snap on my gloves. “Grace, I’m going to remove your scrub pants and underwear. I need to check you.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Her head falls back against Oliver’s chest, and he kisses her temple.
“Kaplan, do you want me to—”