Chapter 8
“LANEY ASKED ME to drive you to the hospital.”
The last thing Nate wanted to do was drive Jess into town after she didn’t bother showing up for their agreed one o’clock meeting to sort out their sleeping arrangement. He’d gone to see Tom to get Jess different accommodation, but Tom refused to talk about it without her there.
“Can’t change anything without the person in question,” he’d said. Nate couldn’t see why not. He wasn’t asking Tom to do a medical procedure on Jess. It was accommodation, for goodness’ sake.
He’d wandered around trying to find her and eventually discovered her outside on the phone, probably to that guy Dave. Her conversation lasted the entire break. Clearly, she was digging her toes in, hoping he’d give in and move out of the cottage.
It was possible his feelings for Jess were getting mixed up again with his feelings for Samantha—displacement, he was pretty sure it was called—but this woman infuriated him.
Stubborn and rude. Well, if that was her plan, it only made him more determined to dig his own toes in.
He could be stubborn, too. So much for trying to be civil.
It was hard to miss her sharp inhale as Jess straightened up, clearly equally annoyed to be facing time alone with him again.
“Don’t you have scenes to shoot?”
“I’m all done for the day. Have been since lunch, actually. Since our one o’clock appointment,” he emphasised the word appointment, but she didn’t respond, just pinched the gap between her eyes.
“Headache?”
“I’m fine. Thank you,” she said, acting polite, even if it was through gritted teeth.
“Are you ready to leave?”
She shot him a fighting look, and then softened, as if she didn’t feel up for it.
Seeing her shoulders slump with exhaustion, Nate felt unexpectedly sorry for her. Laney had explained to him that Jess’s client was in labour. It was potentially going to be a long night for her. He could, and would, put the house issue aside for now. He wasn’t petty.
They took Laney’s car and agreed that he’d drop her off and then, when she was done, she could call and someone would come back and pick her up. Hopefully, someone else, but Nate kept that thought to himself.
Jess fell asleep almost as soon as they hit the highway, her head lolling to the side, balanced carefully on the sweatshirt she’d balled up into a makeshift pillow.
Nate couldn’t help glancing at her occasionally. She really did resemble his ex. Different, softer, but the same in enough ways to trigger memories. Jess snored lightly, and the sound unravelled something in him, transporting him back to the last time he lay in bed next to Samantha as she slept.
He’d come home late from work and snuggled in behind her.
She’d barely stirred, muttered something incoherent, and then slid back into a deep sleep.
It was adorable. Her warm body, curled cat-like on her side.
Her soft snores. He’d run his hand over her curves, from her gently rounded shoulder down to the scoop of her waist and the rise of her hip.
It was a hot night and she’d slept in her underwear.
He remembered thinking how very perfect everything was.
Perfect was a fragile status. A fine glass sculpture balanced on its edge.
He knew that now. One tap and his world had shattered.
He wondered how long it took to recover from those kinds of cuts?
Eyes on the road, Nate steadied himself. He was here, driving down a New Zealand highway with a stranger. Not with Samantha in London. He needed to get a grip. And if he was honest with himself, his relationship had never been perfect. It was a shallow illusion.
The highway widened and signs ahead pointed to various destinations, none of them Christchurch hospital. He coughed softly. “Ah, Jess?”
Nothing. He could see he’d need to make a choice soon of which direction to take, and he had no idea which was right. “Jess. Excuse me, Jess?”
Next to him, she stirred and lifted her head. “Are we there already?” She rubbed her eyes with her fists, and Nate couldn’t help finding the action a little adorable.
“No, sorry. I’m just not sure which way takes us to the hospital. Do we take the next off-ramp?”
More alert now, Jess shifted in her seat and focused on the highway. “Right. You’re not from here. I forgot. Just take the next right turn and you’ll see the signs leading to the hospital.”
“Thanks. Got it.”
“Have you been to Christchurch City at all since you’ve been here?” she asked.
“Not really. Just the airport and then straight out to Rangiora. No time for sightseeing yet, I’m afraid. I’m on a work visa.”
Jess nodded. Conversation clearly over. That was fine with Nate.
He’d never been a chit-chat kind of person.
Small talk always seemed pointless. Who cared about the weather?
He used it to build rapport at work, but he much preferred deeper conversations with friends and family and, considering Jess was neither, silence was perfect.
Nate made a right turn, as indicated by Jess, and followed the signs with little red crosses leading him to the hospital. Neither of them spoke until Nate turned the car into the main hospital carpark.
“Do you want me to drop you at the front?”
“No, go around the back. It’s easier.” She pointed to the road leading around the side of the maternity ward, and Nate followed it.
As they pulled into the parking lot, Jess sat up, suddenly alert.
“Over there!”
She pointed to a tall man—surely a basketball-player—standing next to a car, looking around frantically. In the passenger seat, Nate could see a woman with her legs up, bare feet braced against the windscreen.
He quickly parked and Jess was out of the car in seconds, Nate close behind.
“Jess! Thank goodness.” The man paced back and forth next to the car’s open passenger-side door. “I…We just got here. It all happened so fast!”
Jess placed a hand on his arm. “We’ve got this, James. It’s going to be fine. Get a wheelchair from inside, okay?”
“Okay.” With a job to do, James, who Nate assumed was the pregnant woman’s partner, raced into the hospital and out of sight.
The woman in the car gripped the seat, bearing down. “Second stage,” he muttered.
Jess frowned at him, puzzled, and then bent down to the woman’s level. “Zara. I’m going to check where baby’s at, okay?”
He turned around to give them privacy, but his thoughts were racing.
The situation was far from ideal. Potentially dangerous for both mum and baby, even with the hospital a few steps away.
He watched the door, looking for James and the wheelchair.
Imagining the baby being born in the car.
In the elevator. What would be the most helpful role for him to take in that scenario?
Nate’s thoughts were interrupted by a groan. He turned around to see Zara bearing down again, pushing hard. “Where’s she at?” he asked Jess quietly.
“I can feel the head.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. In her exhaustion, he could tell she was having trouble coming up with a plan.
“We have two choices, then. Get her into the elevator and hope we make it up to the ward or help her deliver in the car. Do you want to try getting her up there?”
“Honestly, with how quickly this is progressing, I’m not sure she’ll make it, but I think we should try.”
“I agree.”
Jess gave him a strange look, likely thinking something close to why should I care if you agree, but he didn’t want to get into it just now. Thankfully, at that moment, James came running out of the hospital doors, pushing a wheelchair.
“Zara, before your next contraction, we’re going to move you to the wheelchair. You got it?” Jess said firmly, sounding more confident now than a few seconds earlier. “Nate, can you take most of Zara’s weight? James, hold that wheelchair steady now.”
Nate slipped his arm under Zara’s and around her back, bracing her. “Zara, are you ready?” he asked softly.
“I guess I have to be.”
“Let’s move on three,” said Nate. “1, 2, 3.” He lifted carefully but firmly, turning Zara so she could position herself into the wheelchair. Another contraction took hold and Zara doubled over, clinging to Nate’s hands for support.
“I’ve got you,” he said, feeling calmer than he had in days.
His feet firmly planted on the asphalt, his full focus on Zara, waiting out her contraction.
The weight on his palms and wrists as she leaned into him.
The earthy, ancient noises of childbirth.
It felt grounding, evaporating all the confusion he’d been feeling since his life fell apart.
The contraction passed, and Zara tipped her head up to look at him. “Want to swap?” she said, making Nate laugh.
“Lean back and let’s get you in the hospital, shall we?”
Jess led the way, and they reached the elevator before the next contraction hit.
Zara strained back against the wheelchair, panic in her eyes. “James, I can feel her coming!”
James stroked Zara’s hair and muttered something, but to anyone witnessing, his panic was obvious. As the elevator made its painfully slow ascent, Jess slid Zara’s underwear off and checked the baby’s position again.
“It’s going to be just fine,” Nate said. “We’re almost there.”
No way to check the baby’s heart rate. No way to make sure a delivery suite was ready. He mentally crossed his fingers. Hopefully, it was a quiet afternoon on the ward.
The elevator doors opened and the four of them poured out onto the level marked Maternity. Jess raced ahead to check for an available room.
Zara grasped Nate’s hand again and by the firmness of her grip, she didn’t intend on letting go anytime soon. He offered her a stream of encouragement. “Just a few more seconds, Zara. You’re doing so well. We’re almost there.”
Jess ushered them into a room with dimmed lighting and Nate, his hand still in Zara’s vice-like grip, helped the labouring mother onto the bed.
Jess took charge as another contraction began, and Nate turned his attention to James, who stood frozen with his huge hands still wrapped around the wheelchair’s handgrips.
“James, come swap jobs,” he said. James hurried over and Zara, eyes closed and teeth clenched, switched her grip from Nate’s to her husband’s hand.
With an admiring glance at Jess—now focused and competent sitting between Zara’s legs, monitoring baby and mum—Nate took the wheelchair and slipped out of the room. As the door closed, he heard a baby crying.
That was close. Closer than any he’d ever experienced firsthand.