Page 55 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

LIAM

The second I get to the hospital, I go over to the woman at the desk who usually handles caseloads and smile nicely at her. She looks up at me, and I can just tell she’s thinking, Oh God, what does this guy want now?Not unreasonable, I suppose, given my reputation.

“I… uh… I need your help,” I say.

“With what?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“There’s a case I need transferred to another doctor.” She raises an eyebrow in question. “I have a… personal issue,” I say, not wanting to divulge too much about me and Emma. “One that’s going to stop me from doing my best work with this.”

“A family issue?” she asks, cocking her head ever so slightly to one side. Mabel, it says on the desk. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before. I don’t suppose I’ve ever had much reason to consider what her name is.

I never used to think stuff like that mattered.

“Davenport is the last name,” I say. “She gave birth today, at home.”

“And you were there?”

“I was.”

I brace myself for further questions, but to my great relief, none come. God alone knows what Mabel’s imagining in her head now, but I don’t care. As long as this gets resolved, she can say what she likes to the others.

“All right, so you were set to be on the schedule for follow-up care, but I suppose I could bump that to Dr. Cole’s list. If you would be willing to take on a couple of extra cases, that is.”

“No problem,” I say, letting out a smile. “Perfect, actually. Thank you.”

She blinks at me, taken aback. Emma’s ghost is haunting me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so polite to this woman in my life, and for sure she wasn’t expecting it. She probably thinks I’ve been swapped with an alien.

But I’m starting to think that maybe Emma was right. I wasn’t rude to Mabel, and she gave me exactly what I wanted. Better than, even.

I decide to double down, hoping this might get me more good stuff in the future. “Thank you, Mabel. You’re appreciated.”

With that, I walk away, not wanting to give her any time to be smug about my new personality. I’m sure all sorts of rumors will be flying in the staff room after this, but I don’t care. I’ve never been much one to care about gossip.

All I’m here to do is my job.

After that, I head up to the maternity ward. Babies aren’t actually my specialty — I concentrate on pregnancy and birth — but I’ve been around them a lot lately because my coworker Eric has been going through a tough time. His wife is having a lot of health issues, and he’s needed to take time off to support her.

And because I have an impeccable work ethic, I have been more than happy to cover for him.

It’s been an interesting learning curve. It’s not something I would normally think of doing or want to do, but this last year has been incredibly informative. More than anything, I love to learn new things. It keeps my brain from stagnating.

Eric’s not in today, again, so I’m in charge of checking on all the mothers and their babies, making sure they have everything that they need and aren’t in any distress. The night passes quickly, and though I should be exhausted, I’m not.

At the end of the day, I enjoy it — the work, the babies, seeing life come into the world. Even if the bad days do hit hard, the highs of the maternity ward are sweet like nothing else is.

Today, though, seeing all the babies keeps reminding me of the news Emma delivered. I feel certain that was not the way she intended for me to find out, which makes me wonder if she meant for me to find out at all.

A baby. My baby.

I can’t work out what she was trying to tell me with the face she made when she saw me again. Surprise? Sure, but was there some trace of wanting me still? Was it pure betrayal, or was there some tiny hope of sadness that I left?

Because I think it is my fault. I pulled away from her. I pushed her away. I did it on purpose, but now I can see it was wrong.

At the very least, I should have been outright with her, told her the truth and my reasons for it instead of being a coward. I should have told her that I was calling it off instead of letting it fade away like some sort of limping rabbit, waiting for the day it couldn’t walk anymore.

And then that thought is too morbid, so I have to go and look at a baby to cheer myself up. Which just makes me think about my own baby inside Emma right now, my son or daughter. My child.

Our child.

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