Chapter 33
Tucker
Traffic was lighter when commuting an hour earlier. I had everything arranged for my week off, so I left early. It was the last day I wouldn’t be a dad.
My coworkers had given me some gifts during lunch. An outfit or two. A case of diapers. Some toys. It was nice.
We were packed. Ready. This was happening. If we could get through the surgery without any incidents, we’d be home free.
But as I turned onto our street, the bright turn of red and blue lights filled me with dread. Please don’t be in front of our house. Please.
But it was.
The yellow ambulance was pulled into the drive.
I parked in front of the neighbor’s house and flung myself out of the car.
Isadora stood on our porch, wringing her hands. “Tucker! You’re home. Oh, God. It’s so terrible.”
I didn’t even ask her what had happened. I raced inside.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. Ava on the floor, seizing. Or getting oxygen, if it were over.
I didn’t expect two EMTs to be standing near the end of the sofa.
“What’s happening?” I asked, shoving the coffee table aside so I could get closer.
“Do you live here?” one asked, a tall man with a shock of red hair.
“I’m her husband. She’s pregnant.”
“We can see that. Can you call off the dog?” A woman stood close to Rosie, who I spotted by the arm of the sofa.
“Where’s my wife?” I asked.
“Behind the dog,” the woman said.
I walked closer. Rosie stood guard, one paw forward in a powerful stance. This must have been from her K-9 training.
“Rosie,” I said. “Sit.”
Rosie relaxed when she saw me, but she didn’t sit.
I approached slowly, extending a fist to Rosie as I got closer.
Then I petted her head.
Rosie whined and turned around to show me Ava.
She was curled in a tight ball, hiding in the space between the sofa and the corner of the wall.
“Ava,” I said. “Baby. Come out.”
“We think she’s in labor,” the woman said. “She’s had two huffing spells we think are contractions.”
Huffing. No. No, no.
I got on my knees. “Ava, can you look up? I’m Tucker, your husband.” I reached out to touch her arm.
She yanked it back. “No, no, no.” Her face next to her right eye was swollen and purple. She must have fallen.
“I’m here to help you, Ava. We are all here to help.”
She peered up at me, tears coursing down her face. “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.”
“Ava, we need to go to the hospital. You’re having the baby.”
She simply whimpered in her corner.
This was bad. I kept trying. “Ava? Do you know who I am?”
She shook her head.
My stomach clenched. A seizure had wiped her. The huffing caused it. Or something. I know she took her meds. We double and triple checked every morning.
The woman behind me said, “Can you get her out?”
“I’ll try. Ava, my name is Tucker. I’m your husband. A man who loves you. Who lives with you.”
Ava ignored me, her breath huffing. God, she could have another one if this kept up. It could keep happening and happening.
“Ava, I’m here to help you. So are they.” I pointed behind me.
She peered up at them. “Who are those people?”
“They’re from the hospital.”
“The dog doesn’t like them.”
“She’s trained to protect you. It’s okay.”
She nodded. “I’m scared. I’m really scared.”
“I’m scared, too. Can you come out? We will help make the hurt go away.”
The tall EMT stepped forward, making Rosie growl.
“Stay back,” I told him. “I can only handle one problem at a time.”
“Is she special needs?” the man asked.
I ignored him. “Ava, tell your dog Rosie you’re okay so she’ll stop guarding you.”
Her eyes moved to the golden retriever. “Rosie, I’m okay.” Her voice was shaking. “Rosie, move back.”
Rosie shifted out of the way as I took Ava’s hand and helped her crawl from the space.
I drew her against me. “I’m right here. It’s okay. I’ll help you. I love you.”
She seemed to calm down, pressing her head against my shoulder. At least she was willing to be near me. Feeling her body melt into mine gave me hope that this time wouldn’t be so bad.
I let her be for a moment, reveling in this quiet moment. It might be our last one for a long while.
She whimpered. “I don’t want the hurt to come back. But it keeps coming back.”
“We need to go to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to.”
“It’s okay, Ava. We’ll get through this. We’ve done it before, and we will do it again.”
“She’s had a baby before?” the female EMT asked.
“No,” I said. I didn’t even want to get started trying to explain the amnesia.
I held her waist as I turned her toward the door. Her pants were soaking wet. She’d never lost bladder control during a seizure. Her water had broken. It really was labor.
As soon as she moved away from me, the EMTs stepped forward to take her.
I hung on to her arm. “Don’t do anything sudden. She’s been through a lot.”
“Sir,” the man said. “You need to step aside.”
“She needs me,” I said. “Stop it.”
Rosie sensed the tension and lunged between us and the EMT with a fierce warning bark.
“Sir, get control of your dog!” the woman said.
Shit. I let go of Ava to grasp Rosie’s harness. “Rosie, sit,” I said. She preferred commands from Ava, but she would take them from me. Ava obviously didn’t know them anymore.
While I pulled Rosie back, the EMTs got Ava to lie on the stretcher, then strapped her down.
When Ava realized her arms were locked in place, she panicked. “What’s happening? What are you doing?” She writhed on the thin mattress. “Let me go!”
At her panic, Rosie tried to lunge forward. I had to fight her with all my strength to get her down the hall to a bedroom where I could shut her in.
“Rosie, sit,” I called through the door.
She was trained well enough not to dig at the floor. From the other room, Ava let out a long, angry scream.
I held back my own panic as I raced to the hall. The EMTs were taking her down the porch stairs.
I wasn’t sure what to do first. Get her bag? Lock the door?
Isadora stood where I’d left her, both hands covering her mouth as if she were suppressing a scream of her own.
“We’ll need our bag and things eventually,” I told her. “And Rosie will need handling. I’m going with Ava. It looks like she’s had a seizure and lost her memory.”
Isadora reached out with a hand and gripped my arm. “I’m here, Tucker. I’ll help. Anything you need.” Tears cut through her makeup in muddy rivers. “You go.”
I took off across the lawn to climb into the back of the ambulance.
Another contraction had taken over. Ava was no longer screaming, but she whimpered in pain.
I glanced back at Isadora standing on the porch of our blue house. From inside, I could hear Rosie barking.
This was a nightmare.