for heaven’s sake, let it out,” Alicia said. “Scream like a banshee. Everybody expects it, and you’ll get more sympathy.”
Susan laughed through tears of pain. “I don’t want to scream. It’s so undignified.”
“Undignified, unshmignified,” Alicia returned. “All the books tell you it hurts—they just don’t tell you how much.”
“You got that right.”
“It hurts more than when I broke my arm in third grade.”
“It hurts a lot more than when I had a root canal,” Susan added.
“I’ve heard passing a kidney stone hurts worse,” Clark added.
“Only a man would say that,” Alicia said. “Hurts worse than having your legs waxed.”
“Hurts worse than cutting your finger almost all the way off with a band saw,” Susan said.
“Have you done that?”
“See the scar? I was five.” She extended her hand for Alicia’s inspection. Silly as their game was, it did take her mind off the pain, and her fear. God, please let the baby be all right.
“Who are you, anyway?” Alicia suddenly asked, softening the abrupt question with a laugh. “Rand’s obviously been hiding a secret or two from us.”
“Alicia!” Rand exploded. “She’s not my secret. She’s my carpenter. She’s building a shelving unit in the office.”
“Oh.” Alicia gave her brother an appraising look, as if she didn’t quite believe that story. She looked at Susan. “You’re redoing his office?”
Susan didn’t answer because another contraction hit. Dougy, who’d been remarkably quiet and well-behaved, studied her curiously from his car seat as she panted her way through the pain.
Rand answered Alicia’s question. “Don’t you think it’s about time I turned that room back into an office? My nieces and nephews have laid waste to it for seven years. Anyway, I’ve got a real need for it now.”
“Ah, yes, the infamous skin-rash term paper.”
“Jeez, I get no respect. It’s a textbook.”
The argument ended there, because they’d arrived at the hospital.
THE MOMENT SUSAN WAS spirited away to her labor room, a woman thrust a clipboard at Rand. “You’ll need to fill out these forms, sir.”
“Oh, I’m not the husband…father…whatever.”
“Then where is he?”
“He won’t be here,” Rand said, unable to communicate Susan’s unwed state without feeling like a gossip.
“Well, her next of kin will need to fill out these papers.”
With a sign of resignation, Rand took the clipboard. “I’ll take care of it.”
A few minutes later, after Susan was firmly ensconced in her cozy labor/delivery room, Rand broached her about the papers. “I can fill them out, if you’ll tell me what to write,” he offered.
“I guess we have to,” she said uneasily.
The first part went smoothly enough. Name, address, phone. For “person to notify in case of emergency,” she thought a long while, then said, “Harriet Regis” and rattled off a phone number.
“Anyone else?” Rand asked.
“No.” She had another contraction, and her water broke. Arnette, the midwife, arrived and talked her through it. Meanwhile, Rand stepped off into a corner and wrote in his own name and phone as a second emergency contact. Just in case.
Rand waited until Alicia and Clark left to find some coffee and Arnette went outside to take a phone call before asking Susan about insurance—the next set of papers to be filled out.
She sighed gustily. “That’s why I wanted to do this at home. I don’t have any.”
“Insurance? You don’t have any at all? You told me you did!”
“I have liability insurance,” she answered softly. “And I have health insurance, too, but it doesn’t cover the pregnancy. I signed up for it too late.”
Rand didn’t know quite what to say to that. Having a baby was an expensive proposition, medically speaking. Costs would skyrocket if there were any problems with her or the baby…no, he didn’t want to think about that. He was less nervous now that Susan was safely hospitalized, but his mouth still felt like he’d just eaten five Saltines at once, and his heart still beat at twice its normal rhythm.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “that it’s completely irresponsible for anybody to get pregnant without insurance.”
“Sometimes life doesn’t go according to our plans,” he said diplomatically, though he was aghast at Susan’s mounting misfortunes.
“Well, I’m not irresponsible. My…Gary, the baby’s father, left quite unexpectedly. He quit the company he was working for and let them cancel both of our insurance policies without telling me.”
“When you were pregnant?” Rand sputtered. How could anyone be that coldhearted?
“He didn’t know I was pregnant. I was going to tell him, and then he was gone, and I was such a mess it was a couple of months before I even thought about insurance. By then it was too late.”
“It seems to me he ought to be held accountable for your medical expenses,” Rand said with a lot more control than he felt inside. A decent man doesn’t put a woman in danger like that. But Gary obviously wasn’t decent if he could care so little for Susan’s welfare. Kind of like Rand’s own father, now that he thought about it.
“I agree,” Susan said. “Only one problem. I can’t find him.”
“You’ve tried?”
“Yes. For months. He left me a note asking me not to contact him, and he took great pains to make sure I couldn’t find him. Even his former co-workers play dumb.”
“What about his family?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know where they are, either. We’d only been living together for about six months. I’d never met his family. He was sort of vague about them, hinting around that they weren’t on the best of terms.”
“His family probably disowned him.” Rand wondered if Gary made a habit of collecting women, dumping them after a few months, and disappearing. He refrained from saying anything else negative, but only to spare distressing Susan further.
“You don’t really want to find him, do you?” Rand asked.
“Yes. Yes, I really do.” Her eyes shined—with excitement or tears, he wasn’t sure. “Every child should have a chance to know his or her father.”
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