of the wonderful closeness Aiyana and Ned shared and hold it inside, so she could turn to it when she felt lonely or desperate. Wendy never stuck around long enough in relationships for things to get that deep.
“How’s work?” her sister-in-law asked.
“Same old, same old. Lots of bee stings and weekend warrior accidents this time of year.”
She went to say more, but her sister-in-law leaned over again, inhaling deeply. By Wendy’s estimation, the contractions were about seven minutes apart, lasting about thirty-eight seconds.
Once the pain passed, Aiyana drank half a glass of water.
“I’m dehydrated,” her sister-in-law said, smoothing back her long black ponytail.
And delusional, Wendy thought. These were more than false labor pains. “Sure.”
They chatted for a few more minutes and Aiyana snagged one last stray tortilla chip from the nacho tray and shoved it into her mouth. From what Wendy could see, her sister-in-law’s belly looked high and tight. Good. As long as it didn’t suddenly drop lower, they still had time.
The server delivered their check. “Anything else I can get you, ladies?”
“No, thank you,” Aiyana said, then put her head down and took another deep breath.
This contraction was only five minutes from the last one and forty-five seconds long.
Wendy stood and hiked her thumb toward the bathroom. “My turn.”
The minute the door closed behind her, she was on the phone to her brother Ned.
“Hello?” his deep baritone answered.
“Hey, bud. It’s your little sis.”
“Hey.” The sounds of a busy garage buzzed in the background. “What’s up?”
“I think your wife’s in labor. The contractions are coming five to six minutes apart and—well, the last one was forty-five seconds.”
Ned’s tone shifted from jovial to nervous in one second flat. “That close?”
“Yep. She’s claiming they’re Braxton Hicks and guzzling water like there’s no tomorrow. I’m bringing her in to Anchorage Mercy just in case. I’ll call you when we get to the hospital and we’ll meet you in the ER.”
“Uh, okay,” Ned said, his voice strained. “Good thing we got the nursery done last weekend, huh?”
“Yeah.” The twins’ room was already filled with toys Ned and Aiyana’s families had bought over the past few months, with a fondness for oversize Alaskan animals. There was a walrus the size of a small car wedged into the tiny room.
After ending the call, Wendy went back out and paid the check then helped Aiyana stand. Her sister-in-law’s face was even redder now, color creeping down her neck and upper chest, the edges of her hairline damp with sweat. Doing her best to keep her tone light, Wendy asked, “Did you have another contraction while I was in the bathroom?”
“I had a twinge.”
“A twinge?”
“More like a surge.”
Twinge and surge were used in the natural childbirth community to reference contractions, a way to train their minds to think differently about the pain. Wendy wasn’t fooled.
“All right,” Aiyana admitted. “Technically, it was a searing, ripping pain, like somebody reached into my belly, twisted it, then wrung it out like a wet shirt.”
“And how long did the feeling last?”
“I’m not in labor,” Aiyana said, clearly still in denial.
Wendy led her outside and steered her toward the car, parked about half a block away. “Let’s walk nice and slowly. It’ll help you feel better.”
Passersby shot them nervous looks, especially when her sister-in-law cradled her enormous abdomen, teeth gritted as she breathed in and out. Three minutes this time. Wendy counted the seconds, hitting thirty, then forty, then fifty. If they didn’t get to Anchorage Mercy soon, the twins would be delivered here on the sidewalk. Wendy shifted into her best take-charge trauma nurse persona. “Aiyana.”
“Yes?” her sister-in-law gasped.
“It’s time.” Despite her bravado, Wendy’s voice cracked.
“You’re right,” her sister-in-law admitted, fear and anticipation sparkling in her deep brown eyes. “Babies are coming.”
They stopped talking as another contraction hit, continuing step by painstaking step toward the car. It was going to be a long night.
* * *
As far as shifts went, this one was shaping up okay so far, but then, Dr. Thomas Farber still had another nineteen hours to go. He was reserving final judgment until after he got home.
Home. He snorted. His modest two-bedroom apartment in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Anchorage was more like a war zone these days, since his daughter, Samantha, had come to live with him. Not that he didn’t love having her there. He did. It was just that he’d expected things between them to be...different.
The counselor here at the hospital had told him to be patient, but it was hard when all Tom wanted was to see his daughter smile, laugh, feel comfortable with him and his parents, who lived up in Fairbanks. He wanted her to feel cherished. He wanted to erase that flicker of pain and grief in her green eyes.
A twelve-year-old shouldn’t look so world-weary...
His cellphone buzzed in the pocket of his scrubs, distracting him. He pulled it out to see a text from the nanny he’d hired to pick up Sam at the hospital and take her home on the days he worked long shifts. The nanny was running late, but it was fine. Sam could stay in his office and do her homework. He wished he could spend more time with her but keeping a roof over both their heads had to be his top priority right now. Sam understood.
Didn’t she?
Tom exhaled slowly and clicked off his phone, guilt squeezing his chest. He sighed and frowned down at his messy handwritten notes in the chart. Honestly, being a single dad was not what he’d expected at all. He wouldn’t change it for the world, though. Even if Sam had yelled at him again that morning and told him she hated him.
It was the grief talking. Had to be, right?
The automatic doors at the ambulance entrance to the ER whooshed open and Tom looked up to see a small group of people causing quite a commotion. A heavily pregnant woman, flanked by Dr. Jake Ryder, the head of Emergency Medicine, and a tall man with short, dark hair and a denim work shirt with “Smith’s Body Shop and Repair” embroidered on the back.
A nurse walked in behind them. Wendy Smith. She and Tom had said hello in passing a few times after he’d first moved back to Anchorage. In fact, she was the woman who was meeting with Sam for a few weeks in the counselor’s absence.
