37. Lucy
37
LUCY
T his baby is never coming.
It’s been twelve hours.
The nurses aren’t concerned yet, patting my knees and giving me patronizing lines like, “Babies come when they’re ready.”
I’m ready.
Mom’s doctor has checked on me twice, glad to introduce himself before the big moment. “I delivered you, you know!” he says with a wink.
I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep anymore. I’m not allowed to eat in case they need to intervene with a c-section. The waves of contractions don’t hurt exactly, but I’m weary of feeling them. If one more person takes my blood pressure, I’m going to lose my mind!
I need a break from my hovering parents, so I insist they go check on Matilda. I ask Mom if I can borrow her phone while they’re gone. I haven’t gotten a new one yet.
When I’m finally alone in the room for ten seconds, I look up Pickle Media and call.
But I’m too late. I’ve forgotten we’re two hours ahead of them and five o’clock here is seven there.
Why didn’t I do it sooner?
But I know. I was worried I would be embarrassed in front of Mom and Dad. That Court wouldn’t take my call. That Devin would sound sympathetic and sad for me.
Why didn’t I memorize his cell phone? I try to recall the digits, but I’ve never dialed them, only used the contact list. I don’t know them.
It’s Friday. I won’t get another chance to call him until Monday.
I curl up on my side around the roiling pressure in my belly. Sometime today or during the night, I’m going to become a mom.
A single mom.
Court feels a lifetime away.
I shouldn’t have gone.
I made the wrong choice.
He was more important than Matilda. I could have taken her to the spa. Maybe Kaliyah could have held onto her for a while.
Why didn’t I think of that before?
Then I sit up. Kaliyah. When he made the appointment, he called from his phone. They would have the number.
I quickly look up Wenova Wellness Spa and dial.
“This is Kristan.”
“Is Kaliyah there?”
“She’s off today. Can I help you?”
“I need the phone number off my account. I went there for a pedicure two weeks ago.”
“Oh?” She sounds skeptical.
“My name is Lucy. Lucy Brown.”
She taps.
“I don’t have a Lucy Brown.”
Right. He’d used his last name. “I meant Lucy Armstrong. What is the number for Lucy Armstrong?”
There’s no tapping this time. “I’m sorry, we don’t give out customer information.”
“But it’s my information!”
The silence continues.
Then Kristan hangs up!
The tears start again. Why couldn’t I get Kaliyah? She knows I’m legit.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. My situation with Court might not be fixable. I left him. I didn’t even tell him where I’d gone. I didn’t take the phone so he could call me.
My face burns hot. I want to throw up.
How can the best day of my life also be my worst?
I cry until I hiccup, then cry until I can’t see the room anymore.
The nurse comes to check on me, taking my vitals. “Feeling okay?”
“Tired.”
“It’s been a long day. You want me to dim the lights while your parents are away? Maybe you can get some sleep?”
I nod, and she does. Then the room is quiet again.
It’s just me and Julian. I wonder what he’s thinking. His world is suddenly volatile, too, the peaceful utopia suddenly squeezing him from all sides.
I’m so uncomfortable. I roll to the opposite side, away from the door, and look out the slice of window visible below the blinds. It’s dark outside. I’ve been here all day.
I hiccup-cry a little longer, but my mouth is so dry, it becomes yet another misery. I reach out for the cup of ice chips the nurse left behind, but they’re out of range of my fingers.
I sense the door opening behind me, then a male voice. “Let me get that.”
It must be a male nurse who’s come on shift. He sounds like… Court.
I swipe at my bleary, swollen eyes. Maybe I’m wishing too hard. Delirious.
There’s a figure there in the low light. Tall. Broad. But that hair is all wrong. Court never looks like he’s been shocked by a light socket.
He picks up the cup and hands it to me.
I stare at him, unsure. This nurse isn’t wearing scrubs.
He speaks again. “I’m guessing by the size of your belly that he’s still in there.”
It is Court!
I’m so shocked, I drop the cup on the bed. Ice spills everywhere. “How are you here?”
“Airplane. Had to bribe a college student to give me his seat.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “Are you in pain?”
“No. I have an epidural. How did you know where to come?”
He bends over to pick up ice from the sheets. “Your Warwick doctor called me and told me where you were.”
“This morning?”
“About ten hours ago.”
“And you… came?”
He palms the dirty ice chips and straightens the cup, which is partially full. “I did.”
I shove an ice chip in my mouth while he takes the fallen ones to the sink.
He’s here!
But what does it mean?
I feel the need to clear up everything.
“I didn’t know about the blood test,” I say around the ice. “But I should have looked it up. I should have been prepared. I should have emailed you before I went to New York. I should have told you back when I found out in February. I?—”
“Hey.” He sits back down and brushes my hair from my face. “Let’s move forward. Okay? Let’s solve each problem as it comes, one at a time.”
I nod. “Okay.”
He leans down and kisses my forehead. At first, he smells like an airplane, and the city. Then I catch the scent of him. The beard oil. The citrus bath wash.
“What can I do for you?” he asks.
“Just be here.”
He grips my hand. “I’m not going anywhere. Did you call your parents to come get you?”
“No. April and Summer did.”
“But you made up with them?”
“They drove me and Matilda home.”
He brings my hand to his lips. “You’re staying with them?”
“We put my old nursery back together. Matilda is happy in the yard.”
He kisses my knuckles. “Where do they live?”
“About a half hour between here and Boulder.”
“My family lives in Boulder.”
They do? “That’s not far. Have you told them?”
“I called them when I landed. They’re waiting for me to tell them it’s okay to come.”
I hesitate. “But we haven’t done the test yet.”
“We don’t have to do the test.”
Tears prick my eyes. We don’t? “I’d like if we did.”
“Then we will.”
“Can he be Julian Armstrong?”
He kisses my hand again. “Yes, he can.”
The pressure in my belly increases, and I find I can’t lie on my side any longer. “Can you help me sit up?”
We work together to shift my position.
“Where are your parents?” he asks.
“I sent them away to check on Matilda. They’ll be back in an hour.”
“Do you want me to be here to meet them? I’m happy to do whatever you want.”
“Yes. In fact, I’ll text Dad so they know you’re here.”
I pick up Mom’s phone, but then I’m hit with a contraction so big that I drop it.
Court lunges to catch it before it hits the floor.
Something weird is happening between my legs. I scrunch down. “Call the nurse, Court! Call the nurse!”
He fumbles with the remote for the hospital bed and slams the button.
“Where is she? Where is she?” Panic edges my voice.
“Should I turn on the light?”
I grip his arm in a vise. “Don’t leave me!”
“Should I look?”
He flips the light on Mom’s phone.
We lift my gown.
“That looks like a head to me,” Court says. “Should I go get someone?”
I grab his arm. “Don’t you dare leave me!”
The nurse enters, and the overhead light comes on. She takes one look down below and starts texting. “Let me page the doctor. You’re doing great, Lucy!”
HOW CAN SHE BE SO CALM?
Then there’s activity everywhere. Two more people come in, then a man with a plastic baby bed.
Then Dr. Fresno is back. “I hear we’re having a baby!” He snaps on gloves and situates himself at the end of the bed. “Time to push, Lucy.”
It’s a blur then. The lights. The voices. The crowd of people. Mom and Dad return. They circle around.
The pressure is intense, coming and going, but coming back again so fast, I can barely catch a breath. I grip Court’s hand. He smooths my hair.
Then the sensation is gone. Totally gone.
Everyone’s quiet for a moment.
Then a cry.
A beautiful, piercing cry!
“It’s a boy!” Dr. Fresno says.
The room comes back into focus. Mom hugs Dad.
Dr. Fresno lifts the baby, pink and covered partially in white, the cord hanging from his belly.
Court stays by my side, holding my hand. “It’s Julian.” He kisses my head.
Then the baby is on my chest. A bracelet is snapped to his wrist and ankle. Dr. Fresno listens to him with a stethoscope.
“Is he okay?” I ask, barely registering that it’s all over, that he’s here.
“He’s perfect,” Dr. Fresno says.
The nurse shifts the baby to lie on my skin and covers us both in a blanket.
The room empties.
“We’ll give you two a moment,” Mom says.
I don’t know if she met Court. I don’t know anything except there’s this heavy, warm baby on my body, and Court is leaning over us both.
Nothing else matters.
Not a single other thing.