The Surprise

by Alice Ward

  I fake shivered for her benefit. “Gotcha. No puke. No cute nurses with snares. And absolutely no bachelor lists.”

  She was still laughing as I headed out the door and went through the process of dealing with New York traffic as I headed to where I was needed most.

  ***

  “Thank you for coming, Dr. Kimbrough,” a harried-looking doctor said as I was shown into the emergency room.

  I stuck out my hand to shake hers. “Glad I could help. And glad you avoided the raw fish.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s a good day to be a vegetarian for sure.”

  I looked around the busy emergency room. “What do you need me to do?”

  She looked down at a clipboard in her hands. “Have you signed for temp privileges?”

  “Yes, just came from administration.”

  She looked relieved. “Great. What are your specialties? I know you’re a surgeon. So sorry about your father, by the way. But what else can you do? Deliver babies?” She looked up at me hopefully.

  I nearly groaned, but from the look in her eyes, that was clearly where help was most needed. “Yes. I’m trained in obstetrics, although it’s been a while since I’ve sat through a vaginal delivery. Conducted several C-sections in Nigeria in the past year, so my skills are up for that too, if needed.”

  She leaned back against the wall and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “That’s perfect, better than I could have wished for at this point. We have several laboring mothers on the floor, one who is trying for vag delivery but might need to be sectioned. We have one OB up there already. No anesthesiologists. Every damn one of them are raw fish eaters. Got a couple on route to fill in.”

  While I’d been hoping to stay in the trauma unit, I would go wherever I was needed the most. She gave me directions to the elevator, and I took it to the correct floor, then was buzzed into the secure labor and delivery unit where I was met by a round-faced woman with a huge smile on her face.

  “Dr. Kimbrough…” she was blushing and breathless, “I’m Melinda, day shift charge nurse for the unit.” She was talking a mile a minute. “Thank you for coming. I’m so sorry about your father. He was such a good man. I worked with him for a few years before coming here. A really good man.”

  “Thank you.” I looked around the unit with its soft, soothing colors so different from the emergency room. “What do you need me to do?”

  She looked me up and down, then licked her lips, “C-c-clothes. You need to change.” She blew out a long breath that fluttered her bangs. “Follow me.”

  Trailing behind her squat form, she led me to the men’s locker room. There, she pointed out fresh scrubs in my size. Then she just stood there, staring at me. “Um, thanks. I’ll take it from here,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket. She didn’t move, just continued to stare as I worked at the tie I hated. “Um, Melinda. I’ll find you when I’m finished.”

  She jumped, blushed furiously, and turned on her heel. “Of course. I’ll be at the nurses’ station.”

  I made short work of getting out of my constraining office clothes and into the familiar rough cotton I preferred. Stepping back into the hallway to find Melinda, I stopped short as a screaming woman was being wheeled toward me on a stretcher by two tight-faced men.

  “I’m not pregnant,” the clearly pregnant woman screamed and tried to climb out of the stretcher. I rushed to assist, another nurse coming on the other side.

  The woman grabbed me by the front of my scrubs, twisting her hand around the fabric. “Tell them I’m not pregnant so there is no way I can be in labor! I’ll sue this place! Sue!!!”

  I glanced at one of the men, who was just shaking his head, his lips in a thin line. Using my most soothing tone, I said, “Let’s take a look and see what’s wrong then. Since we’re here, we’ll use one of these rooms.” She seemed to settle, letting go of my shirt and lying back on the pillow, but her eyes had a crazy look about them and she was gnashing her teeth so hard I was afraid they were going to break.

  She screamed and clutched at her stomach. “I was abducted by an alien,” she panted through the contraction. “It’s trying to bust out. I kept telling them that I wasn’t Sigourney Weaver but they wouldn’t believe me.”

  I looked at the nurse, motioned for her to come by my side. “Order a psych eval. Keep at least one of these guys for security. Get blood if you can. We need to find out what she’s on if this isn’t psychological. Have NICU on standby, a pediatrician, if there is one, in the room for delivery.” The nurse seemed capable and was nodding in agreement to everything I said.

  Just then, another doctor came out of a room. I could hear a wailing baby inside, even over the noises of the woman in front of me. The doctor clapped his hands together, frowning at the writhing patient on the stretcher. “One down. What have we got here?”

  I was thrilled to hand the screaming patient over to him, giving him a brief update on the situation and the orders I’d made so far. My ears were still ringing as they wheeled the expectant mother into the farthest room down the hall, hoping the best for the baby. Poor kid would probably come into the world addicted to street drugs.

  Be careful what you wish for was a wise old quote for a reason. I’d wanted some action and adventure, but I just might have bit off more than I wanted to chew.

  Turning to find the nursing station, I nearly ran over Melinda. Reacting quickly, I grabbed her by the arms to steady her. She blushed, giggled, looked up at me through rapidly blinking lashes.

  Oh good lord.

  “What do you need me to do next?”

  Melinda took a deep breath, trying to rally, I could tell. “Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to a very special patient. She’s one of our nurses, and we all love her to death. There isn’t a father on the scene. The rat left her, can you believe that? Told her he was leaving for some place in Africa or something like that. Knocked her up, but her best friend is in there. She’s nice too. Really tall. I think she used to be a basketball player or something.”

  For some reason, gravity seemed to be getting heavier and I felt it pressing down on me as Melinda talked almost faster than my ears could track her words.

  “Here we are. Best room in the entire unit. It’s usually only for VIPs, but Scar is a very important person in our books.”

  Scar?

  Melinda pushed open the door, and I stepped inside, hearing only voices at first.

  “You’re doing great. That’s right. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”

  When I stepped past the privacy curtain, my heart dropped into my stomach.

  Red curls cascaded around a sweaty freckled face contorted into a mask of pure agony. She was panting, the most pitiful little sounds coming from her throat.

  The world tilted sideways, and I nearly went to my knees.

  She looked up, blue eyes locking on mine. It was her.

  “Delilah,” I breathed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Scarlett

  “Samson.”

  “What?” Amy’s head whipped around, then the hand that had been holding mine squeezed it harder.

  It was him.

  How?

  Why?

  Where had he come from?

  Why was he here?

  “Dr. Kimbrough, this is Scarlett Adler, the nurse I was telling you about.” Melinda was talking, and I could hear her words, but they all seemed to be coming from underwater. “Scarlett, Dr. Kimbrough will be your doctor today. He’s filling in…”

  Kimbrough.

  Why did I know that name?

  Why was that his name?

  Why was he here?

  Why was he wearing scrubs?

  I didn’t understand.

  And there was no more time for questions because another contraction seized on to me. As it took me in its grip, I looked only at him. I didn’t think two people in the history of the world could ever look more stunned.

  He wobbled a little to the side but got hi
s feet under him fast enough. Confusion was a living thing on his face as he took a tiny step in my direction.

  “Aaagghhh!”

  It was a scream of pain but it also carried my own confusion. And something else. Profound gladness. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

  “Dr. Kimbrough…?” Melinda was tugging at his arm, her hands surrounding his biceps, one falling to trace the tattoo poking out from beneath the sleeve. “Is everything all right?”

  He shook his head. Literally shook his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead, obscuring the line of tension I once traced with my finger.

  Then he was in action, stalking across the room in my direction, eyes moving from Olivia, to Amy, to the monitors and back to me.

  “Holy shit in a hand basket,” Amy said in recognition, and he looked at her again. Nodded.

  “It appears that way,” he said, the words gritting out from between his teeth.

  “What’s going on?” Olivia asked, taking a step toward him, her hand out like a stop sign to keep him back. “What the hell is going on?”

  His eyes latched onto mine again, the amber color blazing into me. “That’s a fantastic question…” he glanced at her name badge, “Olivia. That’s the fucking million-dollar question, isn’t it… Scarlett, is it?”

  I was overwhelmed. I was hurting. I was at nine centimeters, and so very ready to deliver my babies. But first, I had to know one thing. “What’s your name?”

  His eyebrows drew together, a flash of confusion in his eyes. “Langston Kimbrough.”

  I laughed. A little hysterical bark of a sound. In the dead of the night, so many times, I’d prayed to know the name of my babies’ father before they were born. I’d bargained with God or the universe or whoever watched over stupid women to give me that gift. It had felt so shameful not to know it, although I’d never uttered that out loud. I didn’t want the babies to hear it come from my lips. Didn’t want them to know I felt any shame at all where they were concerned.

  And now I knew it. I fell back onto the bed, the contraction releasing me. The hand of uncertainty let me go too. I burst into tears, and his gorgeous face turned blurry as great heaving sobs made their escape.

  Langston took another step toward the bed. “Stop!” Olivia said, her voice higher. “Don’t come another step closer until I know what is going on.”

  I reached for her arm, trying to talk through my tears. “It’s him, Liv.” His eyes bored into mine as I confessed. “He’s… he’s the father.” I gave a small smile that held no humor, and not knowing what else to do, finished with, “Surprise.”

  Behind him, Melinda hit the floor.

  “Shit!” Olivia ran over to our fallen supervisor.

  Langston just stood there, looking at me, much like Ross did in the show.

  Another contraction sank its teeth — its fangs — into me.

  Olivia shouted, “She’s nearly at ten. Can you please check her for me?” She ran for the smelling salts and waved them under Melinda’s nose, then pressed some gauze pads to the cut on the charge nurse’s jaw.

  Langston just stood there, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Amy yelled in her scariest voice, “Do something, dammit!”

  That did it. He snapped to attention. I could clearly see the dazed look disappear, replaced with extreme focus.

  Heading to the sink, he washed his hands, then pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. “Scarlett. It’s you. I don’t know what to say,” he said as he pulled down the sheet covering my legs and squirted some lube on his fingers. Then he did the kindest thing possible. He pressed his lips to my forehead as he inserted two fingers into my vagina, pressing in deep. “My god, Scarlett. I can feel it. This is really happening.”

  I clutched at his arm. “I know. I’m sorry. I know. I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t—”

  He slipped his fingers out as another contraction assaulted me like a full body tackle.

  “You’re complete.” He stripped off the gloves, tossed them into the nearby trashcan. “She’s ready to deliver,” he said to Olivia, who had gotten Melinda off the floor and into a chair. “Get the room ready.”

  I started to cry again as the pressure burned between my legs. He grabbed my hand, not even wincing as I squeezed it. He pushed my hair back from my face with his other hand, color coming back into his cheeks.

  When the death grip had passed, he leaned closer to me. “Scarlett, this is going to sound completely insensitive, especially now, but I have to know…”

  I nodded, understanding the question before he had to ask it. “You’re the father, Langston. I wasn’t with anyone for months before you, and I haven’t been with anyone since. We’ll do DNA to confirm it for you if you want, but I don’t want anything from you. You can be as involved as you want.” Crap. I sounded like Rachel. “I was planning on doing this on my own. Just because you’re here doesn’t change that.”

  His jaw tightened. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I looked at him, incredulous, but then my belly began to squeeze and the burning got worse, and nothing else mattered but surviving the next minute of pure agony.

  There was a flurry of movement behind him, and I knew other nurses were coming into the room, pushing the cart with necessary implements, the warmers, all the thousands of things needed to bring these two little ones into the world.

  “You’re doing so great,” Amy said, stroking a cool washcloth over my forehead and down my cheeks. She pointed at Langston. “You, on the other hand, need to pull your shit together. Get down there and do what you need to do. You two can talk later!”

  Langston nodded and stepped away as nurses rushed in and adjusted the bed, getting it ready for birth. Langston still looked like he could be knocked over by a gentle wind, but he was pulling on his sterile gown, his cap, and eye protection. He was slipping on a new pair of sterile gloves as another contraction hit me.

  I knew what was coming next. I could coach a woman on how to push in my sleep. But I was the woman now, and every single bit of that training seemed to have left my brain. When I was told to push, I did, straining as hard as I could, but my eyes never left the man between my legs.

  “You’re doing great, Scarlett,” he said, his voice firm yet also soothing. “I can see the baby’s head.” He laughed, looking up at me, those golden eyes holding an expression of total awe. “Red hair. He’s got your red hair.”

  “She,” I shot back, even though I really didn’t know which baby would be coming first. It made sense. My hair was red so I assumed my daughter would have red hair too. My brother’s hair had been the color of Langston’s. It seemed right that our children’s coloring would be the same.

  “Here we go,” Olivia said and began to count.

  The burn. The pressure.

  “Head is out. She’s beautiful.” Oh my god, Langston was crying, our baby’s head in his hands as he suctioned out her mouth and nose. I looked down, panting hard, waiting for the next contraction so I could push out a shoulder and get this entire thing over.

  “Okay, let’s get her out,” Olivia said, holding my leg up to my chest. “Push.”

  She began to count, and I pushed with all my might, watching his big hands welcome our child into the world. “We’ve got a shoulder. Another shoulder.” He was doing it exactly right, calling out each visible part, and I wondered if he was an obstetrician. It was horrible that I didn’t know.

  “One more push.”

  I’d barely had to bear down when the baby slithered out in a rush and into her father’s strong hands. He looked up at me. “You’re right. She’s a girl. A beautiful girl.” He was talking but also doing the right things, suctioning before lifting her onto my belly then clamping off the cord and taking blood samples.

  Olivia moved to assist, and I took the towel from her hands, stimulating my daughter with the rough cloth. There it was. The cry. A little whimper at first, but it began to gain strength as I continued to stimulate her, wipi
ng the excess fluids off so she wouldn’t get cold.

  Liv was calling out vitals, heart rate and Apgar score, but I didn’t listen. I already knew she was okay. She was perfect. I was in awe of this tiny little miracle on my chest. I pulled down the top of my gown so the baby could lay directly on my skin, then placed a blanket over her while Olivia slipped a little hat on her head.

  Langston was laughing, cutting the cord himself. Amy was crying beside me, stroking her goddaughter’s cheek, and snapping pictures while Olivia did all the immediate assessments while we were still skin to skin.

  Langston stood to get a better look. “She’s so tiny,” he said, and stroked her hand with his finger. At the touch, the sweet baby girl opened her eyes and looked straight up at him.

  My heart squeezed.

  “She’s four weeks early,” I said and watched him do the mental math in his head, nodding as he stroked a finger down her little cheek, smiling as she made a face, blinking with those big eyes again.

  I wasn’t ready for the next contraction. I was too busy falling even more in love with the baby on my chest. I wanted a little more time with just her and me — and in some miraculous way, her daddy — but her brother thought differently. I grunted as pain slammed down on me. The baby startled, her arms flailing outwards. Olivia took my daughter, passing her over to Lorie, who had come in to assist.

  Langston’s eyes grew wide as he looked everywhere at once. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

  I stared at him. He didn’t know. The poor man didn’t know. “Twins,” I panted and gave him a look of what had to be abject misery. “Surprise.”

  Like a balloon losing air, he sank onto the stool, his face growing pale as death. Olivia gave him a little shake and began yanking off his soiled gloves. He started blinking rapidly and managed to get the fresh pair on. He checked me automatically, nodding, but didn’t speak.

  Olivia spoke for him. “Push, Scarlett.”