Page 181 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“How old is your daughter?”

“Fifteen months, and her name is Samantha.”

We hear the noises again. Mel’s phone rings. She picks up.

“We’ll be out of here in two minutes,” she says when she hangs up.

And she’s right. Moments later, the lights of the elevator come on, and we resume the ascent. Mel quickly pushes the Stop button; then she presses the button for the ground floor. The elevator starts to descend, and, when the doors fly open, I see four huge guys dressed in camouflage pants like Mel’s.

“Where’s the ambulance?” she asks.

One of the guys is about to respond when a very pale Eric pushes through. “Sweetheart, are you OK?”

I nod, but it’s a lie, I’m not good at all! He takes a glance at my neck and sees how red it is.

“Easy, easy,” he says.

Worried in the midst of the chaos, Björn takes a step toward me, but Mel stops him.

“Don’t overwhelm her now.”

“What?” he asks, perplexed.

“You need air...baby,” says Mel.

“Get out of my way...baby,” Björn replies, his voice deep, car keys in his hand.

“Listen, James Bond, I said you need to get some fresh air,” Mel insists.

“And I said to get out of my way,” he hisses, pushing her away.

People swarm around us, and I experience a new contraction. I squeeze Eric’s hand.

“Fuck, Eric...”

Mel pushes him and Björn aside and takes my hand.

“Look at me, Judith,” she says in a commanding voice. “Let’s breathe.”

I do as she says, and the pain passes. Without letting go, she gives orders to those uniformed like her.

“Hernández, Fraser, clear this,” she says.

Without hesitation, they do what Mel tells them. While I observe her leadership skills, Eric pulls back the bangs from my face.

“Tell me you’re fine, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, Eric...I think Medusa wants to come out.”

Björn looks worried.

“I just spoke with Marta,” he says. “They are waiting for us at the hospital.”

“Oh my God...oh my God,” I whisper.

There’s no turning back. I’m in labor!

It hurts so much, so much!

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