EMMA DAMIAN 18
D A M I A N
What a fucking mess.
I paced slowly back and forth through the living room of my house, going through one number after another trying to see if I could track down the missing-in-action husband.
“No, I haven’t seen him.” Dr. Anthony Hernandez, a pediatrician at one of Carlos’s nearby clinics, had been my next attempt. “In fact, I haven’t heard from him all day.”
“That’s weird. I mean, is that weird?”
“A little. He usually calls sometime before lunch to see if he needs to stop in for anything. But not today. Is something wrong?”
I almost told him the whole story, but like me, Carlos was a man who didn’t care for his personal business being blabbed all over town. Not to mention I didn’t want to risk causing a panic at the idea of a missing boss if it ended up being nothing.
“Nah, just need to get in touch with him about some business matters. Thanks for your help, Chuck.”
“Yeah, of course.” His tone of voice suggested he didn’t quite believe me when I said nothing was wrong. But that didn’t matter – all I gave a damn about was finding Carlos.
I went through the contacts in my phone, trying to see if there was anyone left I could try. I stopped on one of the names – Dr. Andre Gomez. I paused for a moment, debating whether or not to call him. Andy was a good friend of ours, not to mention Carlos’s preferred golf partner whenever he wanted to hit the links. There was a good chance that if Carlos was out golfing, Andy would be with him.
No way he’d have his phone off so he could play golf while his wife’s on the verge of giving birth.
But it was worth a shot. I hit call and brought the phone to my ear.
“Yo, Dame!” came the gregarious voice on the other end. “What’s up?” Laughs sounded in the background, like a handful of guys having a worry-free time out on the back nine.
“Andy…is Carlos with you?”
“Sure is. Why?”
At that moment I wanted to reach through the phone, wrap my hands around Carlos’s neck, and give him a throttling like he’d never known in his life. But I took a deep breath and let the frustration run through me, knowing there was a good chance a reasonable explanation would be found.
“Put him on, will you?”
“What’s going on?”
“Just do it.” My tone was serious as all hell, and he didn’t give another word of protest.
“Hey!” Carlos said. “What’s the word?”
Where to fucking begin.
“Carlos, is there a reason you’re not answering your phone?” As frustrated as I was, I had to admit there was some humor in how I sounded like a wife pissed off at her husband for being late.
“Because it hasn’t rang. Just out with Andy right now, knocking some balls around with a couple of clients. What’s going on?”
“Wait, your phone hasn’t rung? How is that possible? Zea’s been trying to call you for the last hour.”
“Why has Zea been trying to call me? Why are you calling me?”
“Check your phone.”
“Uh, sure.” Carlos, like me, wasn’t the type of guy to worry under pressure. But I could tell by the tone of his voice he knew something was up. “Uh, what the hell?”
“What do you mean what the hell?”
“I’m over at Southwoods Golf Club right now, we’re right near the mountains. And I’m not getting a bar of reception on my phone.”
“What?”
Carlos called out a question to the guys, the back-and-forth that followed about why they had reception and he didn’t.
“Shit,” he said. “My carrier’s reception sucks out here. I had no idea no calls were getting through.”
“Dammit.”
“What’s going on?”
“Zea’s in labor.”
“She’s what?” A beat of silence followed. “And you wasted all this fucking time asking about my fucking phone?”
“Sorry, man,” I said, realizing I should have started with the news.
“Where is she?”
“I sent her to St. Vincent Memorial with Emma. You get your ass in gear now and you’ll catch up with her.”
“Got it.” His tone was serious, panic-free – determined. “You coming?”
“I’m coming. Meet you there.”
Without wasting another moment, I grabbed my keys and coat and phone and flew out the door, firing off a text to Emma on the way out to let her know Carlos was on his way. It was no small relief to know that particular situation had been resolved, but there was still the matter of the delivery.
Once behind the wheel of my car, I started toward the hospital. And to my chagrin, I found myself not thinking about the birth or Zea or Carlos. But about her.
I scolded myself for letting my thoughts drift to Emma. That was the thing about love – it made you selfish. It made you think about what you wanted, and all I wanted was Emma. The situation was a mess, but Zea going into labor had brought her back into my life. I’d be seeing her at the hospital, and my heart tingled at the idea.
What if it wasn’t over between us? Had she really meant what she’d said about never wanting to see me again. I planned to find out.
The highway was clear, and relief washed over me in waves. A clear highway for me meant a clear highway for Emma and Zea.
A text lit up my phone.
We’re almost there.
More relief. They were at the hospital, Carlos was on his way, and with any luck it’d be an easy birth.
St. Vincent Hospital appeared in the distance. Now that the worst was behind us, I could have a wry grin at the idea of Carlos showing up there. Aquino Medical had become the largest private medical company in the Midwest, which had made him no friend of public hospitals. He’d offered me a job in the past at one of his clinics, but I liked my private practice too much to sell out and work for “the man,” as I liked to jokingly call him.
I put my mind right, focusing on the birth ahead, not to mention seeing Emma again. I was scared and excited and nervous all at once. The last time I’d felt this way was…with her – when we were just kids. Emma had always been the only woman to make me feel this way.
There was something special about her. No sense in denying it.
I reached the emergency room and whipped into a parking spot. Just as I came to a stop, I watched as Emma and Zea pulled into a spot a few rows down. Emma parked and hurried out of her car. She looked so beautiful it fucking killed me to lay eyes on her.
Focus, dumbass. You’ve got a pregnant woman to worry about – not your dick.
“Yo, Emma!” I shouted as I stepped out of the car.
She glanced at me, and what happened next I couldn’t believe – Emma smiled. After what had happened between us, the idea of the sight of me bringing a smile to her face was hard to believe. I’m sure it was because she was relieved to see help had arrived, but that didn’t make a bit of difference to me.
“Damian!”
I trotted over and a beat of awkwardness seized the moment as we stood across from each other, staring at each other as if neither knew what to say to the other.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
It was a good damn thing we had something more important to worry about than how we felt about each other. And as if underlining the point, Zea let out a cry of pain from the backseat of the car.
“Emma, go to the entrance right now and tell them we’re bringing in a pregnant woman.”
She shook her head in disbelief, and I could tell she was in a bit of a daze. “The front’s crowded so I didn’t pull up, but I was so stupid to park like this.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Tell them what’s going on and come back with a nurse and a wheelchair.”
Emma nodded, then turned and broke into a run. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She ran so fluidly, with such incredible form. No doubt she ran to stay in shape.
A gasp from Zea’s direction put my focus back to where it needed to be. I broke my gaze from Emma and dropped down, putting myself at eye level with the bottom of Zea’s sneakers. I lifted myself up a bit and saw her face, deep red as she took in one breath after another.
“How you doing?” I asked.
The answer couldn’t have been more obvious – she was in the middle of a contraction. I grabbed her hand and let her squeeze the life out of it as she worked through the pain.
“Just breath,” I said. “I know it hurts, but it’ll pass.”
She nodded, her face red as she huffed and puffed through the wave of the contraction. When it passed, she calmed. “Where’s Carlos?” she asked. “Where’s my dumbass of a husband?”
I couldn’t help but grin at her language. “He’s on his way. But you’re in good hands now.”
“I swear, if he let his phone die again, I’m gonna freaking kill him.”
“Okay, what we’re going to need to do is get you on your feet, alright? Emma’s getting some help now, and they’ll take care of the rest. But first, we need to get you out of the car.”
“I…I can barely move.”
“You’re fine. Let me give you a hand.” I began to lean forward, preparing to slip my arm under her back to help her out of the backseat. But she was too quick for me, pivoting her body to avoid my reach, then shimmying forward.
“I got it, I got it,” she said, planting her feet on the ground.
I chuckled. “I swear, you and Emma are cut from the same stubborn cloth.”
She grinned, then grimaced. “There’s a reason we get along so well. And speaking of Emma – why the hell aren’t you two talking?”
“That’s…that’s really something you’re thinking about now?”
The grin stayed on her face. “Of course, it is. Emma’s been weird whenever I bring you up, and I want to get to the bottom of it.”
“How about this,” I said with a smile. “We get that baby out of you and we can do all the gossiping you want.”
“Deal. Now, help a pregnant woman stand on her feet, would you?”
She leaned against me and right as I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, another contraction hit her, and I frowned. “Has your water broken?”
She nodded, incapable of speaking as she breathed through the pain. I held her hand again, noting the contractions were closer than five minutes apart. Emma rushed up to us, a couple of nurses with her. I let them know I was a doctor, and together we helped Zea into the wheelchair they brought along.
Everything next happened in the wild frenzy that was so typical of births. We flew to the entrance of emergency room, Zea’s contraction lasting longer than the last. Emma held her hand, running by her side as I monitored the situation.
Then Zea and the team disappeared through a set of doors we couldn’t go through. One of the nurses let us know in what room they’d be so we could tell Carlos when he showed up.
As quickly as the commotion had started, it was over. For us, at least.
“That…what was intense,” Emma breathed, sucking in a deep breath.
“No kidding.”
Concern knitted her brow as she turned toward me. “Will she be okay? I mean, her and the baby.”
“See seems in good spirits. And I didn’t see anything that would lead me to believe she’s going to have anything other than a normal birth.”
She let out a whoosh of air in relief. However, as soon as the subject of the pregnancy had been settled, there was only one issue left to discuss – me and her.
“So much for the two of us not seeing each other ever again.” I smirked after I spoke, and the expression of mild annoyance that fell on her face made it abundantly clear I’d mis-stepped.
“You think this is the right time for that?”
“Not sure if we’ll get another time.”
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
“Ouch.”
The emergency room doors opened and Carlos appeared, still dressed in his golf polo, khakis, and shoes. The man looked about as worried as I’d ever seen him, and the moment he spotted us he rushed over.
“Where is she?” he asked. “And how is she?”
“She’s fine,” I said.
“Through there,” Emma added, pointing to the double doors where we’d been stopped. “Room thirty-five.”
He shook his head, his brow sheened with a nervous sweat, a few loose strands hanging over. “I feel like such an asshole. But I had no idea I wasn’t getting any reception.”
“We’re not the ones you need to convince,” Emma warned him, smiling at him.
“But you’re here now. And if I were you, I’d let her vent while she’s going through the contractions.” I offered a half-grin, letting him know he wasn’t in as hot of water as he thought.
He smiled, a little goofily. “If she needs to punch me in the dick, it’s the least I deserve.” Carlos put one hand on my shoulder, the other on Emma’s. Then he squeezed and a smile that silently said, “thank you both.” With a nod, he was gone.
And we were alone again.
“You think he’s going to be in the doghouse?” Emma asked, shaking her head and grinning. “I mean, she’ll probably give him hell, but it won’t last.”
“It was an honest screw-up. And I’ve seen enough births to know that as long as the baby’s happy and healthy, all’s forgiven.”
“Good.”
“It might take a while,” I warned. “If you want to go home and wait—”
“Not a chance. I’m here until that baby comes out.”
“Same here.” I glanced to my left, over at the small waiting area. “Want to sit?”
She nodded, and we wandered to the waiting area and sat down in the hard chairs next to one another.
And we sat.
There was so much to say.
I had no idea where to even begin.
