Page 49 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

CHAPTER 25

EMMA

We’re sitting on the sofa watching TV like any other normal day when Phoebe’s water breaks.

She makes a small noise of alarm, and I look over at her in concern because Phoebe is definitely not a squeak in alarm kind of person. Then she swears as we both see the wetness spreading down the upholstery.

“This isn’t supposed to happen yet,” she says, a note of panic in her voice.

I stare for a second, then I snap into action, my work self taking over my body and getting calm and rational. “Come on, lie down,” I say, wrestling with her to try and move her.

“But my sofa,” she complains.

“I’ll buy you a new sofa. Lie down.”

She obeys without question, and that’s how I know it’s really go time. Phoebe always has a quip or remark. To say nothing and do what she’s told — there aren’t many circumstances that would have her do that.

“You remember your birth plan, right?” I say, working to ground her in details so she doesn’t panic.

She nods slowly, then looks up at me. “I need Tom,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. “Call him. I need him here. Why isn’t he here?”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll call him. Then I’ll call your doctor. I can help the best I can, but really we need someone who deals with pregnancy all the time. I don’t feel comfortable doing this alone.”

She nods again, the tears threatening to fall. “You can text him. I’m enrolled as part of a birthing program through the hospital. He’ll come over to check on me now that my water has broken and I’m early. He’s under ‘baby doctor’ in my contacts.”

“Great. I’ll do it. Don’t worry.” I say it as soothingly as I can, but I have no idea how much it’s really going to help.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emma,” Phoebe says tearfully. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smile the most comforting smile I can, even though it’s mostly fake. Seeing my best friend panic like this is not the day I had been expecting to have. “You just yell if you need anything, okay?”

She nods, and I grab her phone from the side table.

I excuse myself to the hall, trying not to wince visibly when she groans. The first thing I do is text the doctor, telling him that I’m Phoebe’s friend, and a doctor, and that we’ll need him to come over as soon as possible. She’s early and her water broke.

Then I call Tom. He picks up immediately. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, Tom,” I say, taking a deep, calming breath.

“Emma?” he stammers in confusion. “What’s happened? Where’s Phoebe? Is she okay?”

“She’s just gone into labor,” I say plainly. Now is the time for facts and nothing else. “If there’s any way you can come back sooner, she would really appreciate you being here. She’s asking for you.”

“Labor? Now? But we’re still a few weeks away from her due date.”

“Unfortunately, babies don’t care about things like that. They just know when they want to be out, and your baby is coming whether you want it to or not.”

“I’m in Seattle. I’ll head to the airport right now and get the first flight back. Tell Phoebe I’ll be with her soon. Tell her I love her.”

“I will,” I say, my chest tightening at knowing he means it. “She loves you too.”

“I’m glad you’re there for her, Emma,” he says, his voice choked up. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have.”

“I’ll tell her you’ll be here soon.”

With that, we hang up, and as I imagine Tom in Seattle, scrambling to get home, I take another breath, then turn back to Phoebe, who’s staring at the ceiling, clutching her hands to her chest like she’s praying or panicking. I rush over to her and kneel beside her. “Tom says he loves you. He’s on his way.”

“Good,” she says, clearly trying to choke back another sob.

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