Chapter 30 #2
I hang up the phone and immediately block his number before he has a chance to respond or call back.
At some point I am going to have to deal with Ryan, too, but right now isn’t the time.
I block his number too, and head toward the maternity unit, where I see Daniel turning into the convenience store.
I call out and he stops. We hug and exchange pleasantries before entering the shop.
“How is she?” I ask. The weariness in Daniel’s face surpasses mine, even if he looks more comfortable in his baggy hoodie and sweatpants.
“She’s holding up. The little man isn’t quite ready to come out yet. The midwife said there’s nothing to worry about, and you know Kelly. She’s determined to give birth naturally, despite any pain she might be in.”
I roll my eyes and nod as Daniel grabs a double shot espresso from the fridge.
“Here let me get that for you,” I say, grabbing a Red Bull for myself. “How about you? How are you doing with all of this? It’s been what, fourteen hours now since you got here?”
“Sixteen,” Daniel says with a yawn. “It’s hard, man. Just standing there not able to do anything other than support Kelly while she goes through this.”
I pay for the drinks and we head past the chapel, down the corridors, and through to the maternity ward, where my mum sits alongside Kelly in the second room.
“What took you so long?” she says when she sees me.
She embraces me with the same hug she’s given me since I can remember. Stiff, awkward as fuck, and over before you can blink an eye. Kelly cuts me a look, Don’t, and I bite back my response. Like I haven’t just flown halfway round the world to be here.
“How are you doing?” I ask, ignoring my mum’s question and leaning over to Kelly. She’s in bed, and I give her a slightly longer embrace, trying not to pull at any of the cables she’s attached to.
“How do you think?” Kelly says, looking down at her dressing gown. “I served this little fucker his eviction notice nearly seventeen hours ago, and yet he still refuses to leave. At this rate, I’m going to have to get the bailiffs in to remove him.”
Kelly winces in pain as a contraction starts and squeezes the teddy bear beside her.
“Kelly, stop with the swearing.” My mum whacks her arm.
“Daniel, you better get her out of here,” Kelly says in between short, sharp breaths. Her voice is almost demonic.
Daniel quickly escorts my mum out before World War III erupts.
I give Kelly my hand to squeeze instead of the teddy bear, and immediately regret it. She crushes my fingers with the tightness of her grip.
“The contractions that bad?” I ask.
“Not as bad as her,” she says, nodding to the door where mum just left. “Why Daniel chose to tell her I’d gone into labor is beyond me.” She shakes her head in disgust.
Kelly’s grip finally loosens and her breathing slows.
“Anyway, enough about her. Tell me everything. I need something to take my mind off these contractions.”
“Well, the flight was awful, barely slept a wink. The guy next to me snored the whole flight.”
I can still hear his drone reverberating in my ears.
Maybe I should file a compensation claim with British Airways for damages.
“So that’s why you look so rough.”
Kelly is never one to miss an opportunity to knock me down a peg or two, even in the throes of labor.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the corner of the room, and see my hair is splayed out in a variety of different directions, despite my best efforts to tame it in the airplane toilet before landing.
“Funny,” I say, not needing my character to be sullied anymore today. “Oh, Stephen and Ryan have broken up.”
“Cause we didn’t see that one coming,” Kelly laughs and reaches for her water.
“That’s not the best part. Apparently, Ryan told Stephen the reason they were breaking up is because he’s still in love with me.”
Kelly puts her cup down and whacks my arm. Her heart rate monitor falls off.
“Shut up!”
“Yeah, and Stephen’s blaming me for everything, like he didn’t get himself into this whole mess in the first place.” The anger I’d quelled earlier stirs again.
“God, you gays. You’re all as bad as each other.” She shakes her head again and slides her heart rate monitor back on before taking a sip of her water.
If I wasn’t still so angry at Stephen and Ryan, I’d be laughing right now.
“Anyway, enough about them. How were the Grammys? Who did you see? Did Alexander win?” Her eyes light up as she waits for the gossip.
“They were great,” I say, filling her in on the awards show. I get my phone out to show her pictures from the red carpet and of the ceremony itself. And I tell her about how Alexander thanked me during his speech.
“What did he say?” Her mouth opens wide before she clenches her jaw in pain.
I recount Alexander’s speech while helping her through the next round of contractions, and then tell her what I’ve been dying to tell someone since I said it on Sunday night.
“I told him I love him, Kelly.”
A lump forms in my throat as I say the words.
“You did not,” she says, looking me over head to toe. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Kelly laughs, and I try not to be offended. Showing affection isn’t something us Fosters do, but I guess I’ve finally let the last of the bricks fall and let Alexander completely in.
I can barely keep my eyes open in my chair in the waiting room. My head nods up and down like the arm of a Hello Kitty figurine when Daniel kicks at my foot.
“We’re gonna be here a while yet. Why don’t you take these and go freshen up?” He throws me his house keys.
It’s almost midnight and there’s been little to no movement with the baby over the last six hours. My whole body is exhausted. Even the second Red Bull I’d had three hours ago can’t fight back the tiredness any longer.
“But what if she actually becomes fully dilated?” I reach for my mouth to cover a yawn.
“Our house is fifteen minutes away. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
Daniel helps me up out of the chair.
“Alright, but only if you promise.”
Daniel nods and I make my way out of the ward, order an Uber, and head back to theirs. If nothing else, I’ll be relieved to finally get out of this damn suit.
Once I’m in their house and close the door behind me, I FaceTime Alexander.
“He’s still not here,” I say, kicking my shoes off.
“Jesus, she must have been in labor twenty-four hours by now.” His shocked face stares back at me on the screen.
“Twenty-two,” I say, barely able to speak as I make my way up the stairs and into the bedroom.
“I can still get a flight over there if you want?”
Alexander’s been texting all evening about booking a flight, but I’ve been putting it off. I can’t bring myself to have him here, with all his nervous, excited energy, when I’m already having to deal with my mother. Let alone Stephen and Ryan.
“It’s okay, I’ll FaceTime you once he’s here.”
“Where are you?” He lifts his head off the living room couch.
“Back at Kelly’s. I only had my suit, so Daniel gave me his keys to shower and get changed.”
The phone feels like lead in my palm, and I switch hands, barely able to keep it held up.
“Maybe you should take a nap. Even if it’s just a power nap.”
What is it with everyone implying how haggard I look today? Alexander’s fresh-faced look does nothing to soften the blow of how rough I feel. But I could really do with forty winks.
“You’re right,” I say, pulling off my clothes and sitting down on the bed. “Let me call you back later.”
I barely summon the energy to say goodbye before plugging my phone into the charger, setting it next to a photo of Kelly and Daniel on their wedding day on the bedside table, and rest my head on the pillow.
Tuesday
I knew I should never have left the hospital.
My mum’s hysterical voice on the phone demands that I get there right now.
“What’s wrong?” Terror immediately shakes away any residual tiredness.
“Just get here.” My mum hangs up.
Fuck.
Within five minutes, I’ve managed to chuck on one of Daniel’s tracksuits, order an Uber, and get en route to the hospital. I tap away impatiently at the door handle as we drive. There’s not a soul out on the streets, unsurprisingly, given it’s 4 a.m. and frost covers the cars and trees.
By the time I make it to the ward, less than thirty minutes later, my mum is pacing up and down the corridor of the maternity unit. Daniel is sitting in one of the chairs, his head in his hands.
“What’s happened?” I ask as I reach my mum.
“She’s, she’s…” She’s barely able to string two words together, her face a ghostly white. Daniel still has his head in his hands, clearly shell-shocked.
I see a doctor walking toward us and wave him down.
“Doctor. Doctor. Can you tell me what’s wrong with my sister?”
“Who’s your sister?” His tone is calm and collected as he walks forward briskly.
“Kelly. Kelly Foster.” The words rush out of my mouth.
The name stops him in his tracks.
The look on his face is one of concern, not reassurance.
“The umbilical cord got wrapped around the baby’s throat and we had to rush to get the baby out.
Your sister suffered an amniotic fluid embolism during the process.
” He coughs and clears his throat. “Unfortunately, your sister’s lost a lot of blood and has gone into shock.
If we don’t do something right now, we’re going to lose them both. ”
I reach for the wall for support.
Lose them both?
“But I saw her. Just a few hours ago. She was fine.”
“I appreciate that’s a lot to take in. But I need to head in there right now and I’m going to ask you to wait out here.”
The doctor heads into the ward, closing the door behind him and leaving me in the corridor.
My chest constricts and I struggle to breathe.
How is this evening happening? How can everything have changed so quickly?
My legs start to wobble as my head goes light.
I know this feeling and it doesn’t end well.
I steady myself against the wall again, and catching sight of the disabled toilet along the corridor, push myself over toward it.
I just manage to make it inside as vomit pours out of me.
Beads of sweat drip from my forehead as I drop to my knees, hugging the toilet bowl.
After a few more retches, I manage to pull myself up off the floor, flush, and lean on the sink. I splash cold water over my face and catch my reflection in the mirror. I look like I’ve just seen a ghost.
I reach for my phone and, doing a quick search on umbilical cords wrapped around a baby’s neck at birth, see that it’s relatively common. It occurs in twenty to thirty percent of births.
I let out a deep exhale and start to look up amniotic fluid embolism. As I hit enter, I hear an almighty scream. It’s the exact same scream I’d heard when they told my mother that my father had died, in this very hospital.
This must be a nightmare.
This must be a nightmare.
I pinch myself repeatedly, trying to wake up, but it’s not working.
This cannot be happening.
I see my pupils dilate in the mirror and my body temperature rapidly rises alongside my heartbeat. My chest rises and falls in quick movements.
I can’t open that door. I won’t open that door.
If I stay in here, everything will be alright. I nod back at myself in the mirror for reassurance. It gives me false hope as someone pulls on the door handle.
“Just a minute,” I say.
I splash more water on my face.
This isn’t real. Your mind is playing tricks on you.
My hand hovers over the lock, trembling and unable to grab it properly. I steady my left hand with my right, then stop momentarily to speak to God.
I feel bad for even thinking of it, for even bargaining with God, but I don’t think I can cope with losing my sister. I don’t want to lose either of them, but if I’m forced to choose then it’s no contest.
Both my hands continue to shake as I attempt to unlock the door again. I hold my hand tightly as I pull the door open and turn out into the corridor, ignoring the person waiting to enter.
I turn, look down the corridor, and my whole body immediately stiffens.
A nurse consoles my mum, who is collapsed on the floor. Daniel stands silent next to the doctor, his stare passing straight through me and down the hallway.
The doctor rubs the back of his neck, despair across his face.
I can’t believe it. I won’t believe it. I pinch myself one more time, hoping I’ll come to back at Daniel and Kelly’s house. I barely feel the pain as my nails cut into my wrist and draw blood.
The doctor’s gaze meets mine, a sadness in his, as he shakes his head. He confirms what I refuse to admit.
Kelly’s dead.
They’re both dead.