Page 118 of More Than Words

Minneapolis

Chase’s brother Drew was thankfully one step ahead of us, an SUV practically squealing its way around the corner from the parking lot. He jumped out, opening the back door. “We’ll get them checked in and come back to the reception. She’s not going to have the baby in the back seat.”

His husband Miguel seemed suddenly sober, freaking out more than I was that she was in labor. “That better be a guarantee. We’re burning the car if that happens. You cannot get the smell of placenta out of leather. I’ll never look at this car the same—”

His voice drifted off as I placed Isobel in the back seat, jumping in after her and slamming the door.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, squeezing my hand—hard—as I sat beside her in the back seat. All I could focus on was her while the car accelerated onto the highway, heading toward what I hoped was the closest hospital.

Miguel may have been freaking out, but I didn’t want to have to deliver my child in the back seat of a car either.

“Is she okay?” he asked, looking at me from the passenger seat, his eyes locked on mine.

“Is? How’re you doing?” She’d clearly already had two contractions, but she seemed to relax into me as the second one let up.

“Can he drive faster? It hurts. This isn’t how this was supposed to happen.”

Her sniffles broke my heart, knowing she had to be terrified. We’d discussed a birth plan, had bags packed at home, Dr. Reeves’ phone number programmed into both our phones. We’d toured the hospital and driven the route from both of our apartments. But nothing prepared us for this—going into labor hundreds of miles from home.

“You got this, babe. We’re going to be just fine.” We had to be.

“Is she...” Miguel trailed off, gesturing at Isobel like she was terrifying. “Leaking or anything? Is it sticking out of her? Don’t you need to be at the other end to catch it?”

Drew smacked his husband on the arm. “She’s had two contractions. I highly doubt there’s a baby coming out yet. Chill the fuck out, you’re freaking her out.”

Isobel leaned into my side, her hand clasped tightly in mine while we took an exit marked Abbott Northwestern.

“Oh, fuck,” Isobel groaned, squeezing my knee as she tensed up.

Miguel jumped out of the car like it was on fire, rushing through the Emergency Room doors. I had no idea what he said to get such a quick response, but before Drew and I could get her turned and ready to lift out of the backseat, a nurse was waiting with a wheelchair.

“How far along is she?” the nurse asked as Isobel clutched her stomach and panted through the rest of the contraction.

“Thirty-five weeks, three days.”

“Do you know which obstetrician she’s using? We can page them and see if they’re on call.”

She turned and headed toward the Emergency room doors, the three of us hustling after her.

“We were here for a wedding. Her OB and perinatologist are in Boston.”

“I’ll call up to labor and delivery to see who’s on. Do you have her identification?”

Isobel smacked me in the stomach with her clutch, white-knuckling the arm of the wheelchair as she panted.

“I’m assuming you’re Dad?” she asked while I pulled out Isobel’s license and took out her small card wallet to find her insurance card.

“Yes, I’m the dad. She’s had three contractions so far. Water broke about a half hour ago.”

The nurse made a call using the walkie on her name badge, and two men came in to lift Isobel to a hospital bed. Another guy in a white lab coat came in moments later, rubbing his hands with sanitizer and reaching for a set of gloves out of the dispenser on the wall.

“Sound like we’re having a baby tonight, folks.”

“She’s not supposed to be here yet.” A few tears streaked down Isobel’s cheek, and I sat down beside her, gripping her hand.

“Babies don’t always come according to plan. We’re going to get you set up with some monitors and an IV. Since your water broke, we’re going to push some steroids with an antibiotic and give you something to slow down your contractions. As soon as they’ve got a room prepped upstairs in the baby center, we’ll transfer you.”

She nodded, whimpering as she squeezed my hand.

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