by Rita Herron
The nurse and doctor exchanged concerned but knowing looks.
She would have to do this without Ben, have to give birth while he was racing to get here. She had no choice.
They tucked the blanket around her, pushed the bed through the door. Her mother and father both kissed her, then the nurse wheeled her toward the delivery room.
An icy coldness engulfed her as they rolled her into the sterile room. Bright lights blinded her, the sterile odors sending bile to her throat. As the rubber gloves snapped against the doctor’s hands, Patty moved up beside her and the doctor instructed her to push.
Pain rocked through her so intensely she almost came off the bed. She felt like she was splitting in two and let out a scream.
A second later, a baby’s cry echoed through the room.
A sob escaped her, her body trembling as the next contraction ripped through her, followed by the splitting pain again, and another push.
The room erupted into chaos. Two or three more nurses and another doctor slipped into the room. Everything blurred as she struggled to see what they were doing.
“Is the baby all right?” she asked trying to see the first twin while she gave birth to the next.
“We have to examine the baby and clean her up,” one of the nurses said.
The doctor patted her leg. “Norma, focus, we still have another little girl to deliver. And this one’s sideways.”
Panic seized her. “What?”
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m going to try to turn her.”
Norma braced herself, her body screaming in pain as he reached inside her and turned the baby. A few feet away, her first little girl wailed in the nurse’s arms.
“Now push again,” the doctor ordered.
Sweat beaded her face as she propped herself on her elbows and pushed as hard as she could. Patty kept coaxing her, and tears fell down her cheeks as she gave another push.
Finally she felt the baby slip out.
But there was no sound of a baby’s cry this time.
Her heart stuttered. Something was wrong.
“Hang in there,” Patty said as she eased Norma back onto the pillow.
But she shoved away the nurse’s hands. She had to see.
“What’s wrong? Is she breathing?”
A deafening silence stretched through the room, the tension thick as they carried the tiny infant to the second bassinet and began to work over her.
Ben barreled into the parking lot of the hospital, swerved to miss an ambulance heading out and practically ran up on the curb as he threw the truck into park.
He’d flown over the roads, gotten a damn ticket for speeding, and almost crashed into a jerk on a motorcycle who’d cut him off when he tried to pass on the winding mountain road. Not that he was supposed to pass there, but his wife was in labor, dammit, and he wanted to be there and see his babies born.
Sweating bullets, he jumped out, but a security guard yelled at him. “Sir, you can’t park in a handicap spot.”
He jerked his hand toward the emergency room. “But my wife’s in labor.”
The beefy man strode over to him, hands on hips. “I don’t care. That space is reserved for the handicapped.”
Ben threw up his hands in a gesture for the guy to calm down.
“Just let me go in and I’ll move it later – ”
The guard patted the handcuffs at his waist. “Either move it now or I’ll arrest you.”
Ben cursed, but jumped in the truck, fired the engine up and shifted into reverse. The guard vaulted out of the way as he spun to the right and parked a few feet away.
When he got out this time, he was mad as hell. He glared at the guard, then jogged into the hospital emergency room and raced over to the check-in desk. “My wife, Norma Nettleton, she’s in labor.”
The receptionist frowned up at him, but Walt’s voice boomed. “Ben, Norma had the twins.”
Something caught in Ben’s throat. What if …no, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
He swallowed hard. “Where is she?”
“Come on, I’ll walk you to her room.”
Fear clawed at Ben. There was something his father-in-law wasn’t telling him.
“Norma did good,” Walt said. “Her mama’s with her now.”
“What about the girls?”
“They’re so little,” Walt said. “Not even five pounds.”
The long corridor seemed to stretch for miles. Panic made Ben want to turn and run. If his little girls were sick or had inherited that genetic disorder, what would they do?
Norma would hate him.
But no more than he’d hate himself.
Walt knocked on the room door, and Norma’s mother opened it. “Come on in, Ben, Norma’s been asking for you.”
He inhaled deeply, still shaking as he entered the room. Norma sat propped against a bank of pillows, her auburn hair spread across the white bedding. She looked radiant and so damn beautiful that for the hundredth time he wondered what in the hell she saw in him.
He scanned the room. Where were the twins?
Norma reached out her arms. “Ben, honey, I’m sorry, so sorry. “
Tears blurred his eyes as he rushed to her. He heard Walt murmur to Norma’s mama for them to leave the room, to let him have some time with Norma.
Did she have bad news to tell him?
Worry overcame him, and he buried his head against her and drew her into his arms.
Norma wrapped her arms around Ben and hugged him to her, hating that he’d missed the most important event in their lives.
But she hadn’t expected Ben to get so emotional. Finally he pulled back, and looked up at her. “What happened?” he asked in a choked voice.
“I went into labor when I was driving to the house. I ran off the road, and the car wouldn’t start, so I started walking back to town. Then this nice couple picked me up.”
“Norma…the – ”
“The car wasn’t damaged much,” she said.
“I’m not worried about the damn car,” he said. “What about the …girls?”
Norma stroked his cheek. “They’re so tiny, Ben.”
“Walt said that,” he murmured.
“One of them had the cord around her neck,” Norma said, the fear she’d experienced earlier hacking at her again. “She wasn’t breathing –“
He dropped his head forward. “Oh, God.”
“I know, I was so scared.” Norma squeezed his hand. “But they gave her oxygen, and then she cried, and it was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”
A sigh rumbled from him. “And now?”
“They’re monitoring both of them and running some tests,” Norma said. “Do you want to walk down to the nursery and see your little girls?”
He nodded, his eyes dark with emotions. Norma shoved the covers off of her, and stood. She reached for the robe her mother had brought her, and Ben helped her into it.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked.
Norma nodded. “I just want to hold our daughters.”
He took her hand, and together they walked down the hall. When they reached the nursery, Norma pointed through the window to two bassinets side by side. Pink blankets had been wrapped around the infants, and they both wore small pink caps.
She’d never seen anything so precious in her life.
Patty, her labor nurse, stepped up to her. “If you want, you can go in and hold them for a moment. Baby two is still receiving oxygen, but she’s breathing better now. Since they were premature, we have to monitor them more closely.”
She led the two of them into the room to scrub, then into the corner of the nursery. Ben helped her into a rocking chair, and the nurse handed her the baby closest to her. The tiny infant wiggled her nose and pursed her little lips, squirming, then snuggling into her arms.
Then the nurse handed Ben baby number two. She scrunched up her nose, and let out a wail, her
small fists and legs working as she gained steam.
Norma stroked the baby’s fine hair, hair the color of her own. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? And look at all their hair.”
Ben nodded and tried to soothe the other twin by rocking her back and forth.
“Look, they have my little pug nose and your stubborn chin,” Norma whispered.
Ben squinted as if trying to see it, and she laughed.
“Let’s call this little angel Sadie after my grandmother,” she said gesturing to the infant in her arms. “And – ” she rubbed her hand over the other baby’s back. “Do you want to name her after your mother?”
Ben shook his head and jiggled the baby, but she continued to cry. “How about Amelia after my grandmother?”
“Sadie and Amelia,” Norma whispered. “That’s perfect.” She pressed a kiss to each baby’s cheek. “Just like our perfect little girls.”
Ben tried to comfort Amelia, but she screamed so hard that her little round face turned beet red, and her legs kicked and thrashed working their way out of the blanket.
Sadie snuggled into Norma’s arms though and nursed, content and peaceful.
Maybe it was him. He’d heard that babies picked up on their parents’ nerves. Maybe that was the reason Amelia couldn’t quiet down.
“Shh, little one,” he murmured as he walked her back and forth. “Don’t cry. Daddy’s here. I love you, baby.”
But instead of calming, her screams intensified.
“Maybe you should try feeding her,” Ben said, feeling totally inept. He’d failed as a husband. He couldn’t pay his bills.
He’d missed his children’s births.
Now he couldn’t even comfort his own daughter.
But when he handed the baby to Norma, she continued to fuss.
Fear paralyzed him. Was something wrong with Amelia?
He should tell the doctors right now to test her.
But he looked at the joy on his wife’s face, and he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the moment.
Chapter Three
Two years later
The screams woke Norma again, a shrill sound that reeked of terror and fear and monsters in the dark.
A sound that made the walls of the old wood house vibrate as it echoed in the night.
A sound that tore at her heart.
She leapt from bed and raced to her twin daughters’ room. This was the third time this week Amelia had woken up screaming, crying, terrified, inconsolable, although God knows Norma tried her best to comfort her and find out what was causing the nightmares.
She rocked and sang and patted and danced and did everything in her power to soothe her, but lately nothing worked.
Rain and wind beat at the windows, rattling the windowpanes and sending a tree branch scratching at the foggy glass.
She wrapped her robe around her, shivering as a chill enveloped her. She felt like such a failure, like God was punishing her for some wrong she’d done. If only she knew what it was, she’d change it and beg for forgiveness.
Anything to help her little girl.
Because something was wrong with her daughter. She just didn’t know what it was.
Her husband couldn’t handle the endless sleepless nights and screaming and had walked out three weeks ago.
The truth was, he’d been distant and strange ever since the girls’ birth as if something was eating away at him, but he refused to discuss what was on his mind or attend counseling.
She’d begged him to confide in her, but the more she pressed, the more he brooded. And Amelia’s cries exacerbated the situation.
The scream resounded again, louder, making her shudder with worry as she opened the nursery door.
Two-year-old Sadie was sound asleep, but Amelia thrashed at the covers, her eyes wide, her body shaking.
Another ear-piercing scream split the air, and Norma dashed to the bed and scooped her baby into her arms. But instead of snuggling up to her and calming, Amelia fought and scratched, pulling her hair and screaming at the top of her lungs as if her body was on fire.
Tears blurred Norma’s vision as she spoke softly to Amelia, trying to calm her. “Shh, baby girl, Mama’s here, it’s all right.”
But Amelia kicked and wailed and yanked her hair again, pulling so hard that several strands came out in her small, thin hand.
A helpless feeling overwhelmed Norma, but she steeled herself to make it through the night. She wrapped her baby in her arms, struggling to hold onto her sanity as her daughter beat at her and cried.
Finally too exhausted to stand, Norma carried Amelia to her room, dropped down into the rocking chair, and began to sing a lullaby, stroking Amelia’s baby fine hair and inhaling the scent of baby powder, lotion and all the sweet things little girls were made of.
But frustration knotted her shoulders and neck when Amelia didn’t quiet.
She had to do something.
Tomorrow she’d carry Amelia to the doctor and insist he run tests.
She’d do anything she could to make sure Amelia received the help she needed to be healthy and have a happy life.
Guilt ate at Ben as he finished his shift at the construction site. The foreman handed him a paycheck, and he headed to the bank. He needed to deposit some money in Norma’s account for the girls.
Coward.
Money didn’t compensate for him not being there, and he knew it.
But Amelia’s cries and nightmares had intensified to the point that he hadn’t been able to sleep or think about anything but the fact that he’d passed on some horrible disease to his daughter.
That if it wasn’t for him, she’d be happy and healthy. That maybe Norma and Sadie were better off without him.
But the hurt on Norma’s face when he’d packed his bag tormented him. She was exhausted and just as worried as he was, but she hadn’t walked away from their child.
Mentally berating himself wasn’t helping her though.
He had to get his shit together and find a way to tell Norma the truth.
Confessing might tear them even further apart, but Norma deserved to know that he hadn’t left because he didn’t love her and the girls.
He did love them. With all his heart.
Sweating, he climbed in his truck and drove to the graveyard where his sister was buried, then knelt by her grave. Her illness had taken its toll on his parents, had driven his father to drink and his mother to seek love in any bed she could find.
He traced a finger over Geneva’s headstone, then the date she’d died. She’d only been eleven. The chromosome disorder had caused a multitude of health problems and had eventually eaten away at her body and brain until she hadn’t even known her name.
Was that going to happen to Amelia?
No, dammit.
He stood and paced past the grave to the river, then picked up a stone and hurled it across the water. The rock skimmed the surface, skipping along the waves and splashing to the bottom below.
The winter wind picked up and tossed leaves across the embankment, whirling others into the river. The dead leaves floated on the surface, brittle and crumbling as they floated downstream and were swallowed by the current.
Just like he’d felt for the last two years.
But it was time he stepped up and forgot about his own pain. His girls deserved better.
He shouldn’t have left Norma and the twins. What kind of man deserted his family when they needed him?
A bastard, that’s the kind.
He tossed another rock in the river and watched it disappear, then turned and strode back to his car.
He had to confess the truth to Norma. If she hated him, he’d have to live with it.
Maybe doctors had made progress in treating the disorder in the last few years. Maybe they’d found a cure or a treatment that he didn’t know about.
Feeling better now he’d decided to take action, he started the engine and headed
to the apartment he’d rented on the other side of the mountain. He’d look up the specialists in Nashville and make an appointment for Amelia before he saw Norma. Maybe he’d even have hope to offer her when he saw them.
He’d do whatever he had to do in order to take care of his family.
Norma rocked Amelia in her arms as she sat in the waiting room at the free clinic. The room was packed with mothers and children who needed vaccinations, well baby checks and medicine.
A little girl named Grace Granger was perched in the corner, her small body jerking and spasming as if she was having a seizure. Another boy named Joe Swoony grunted as he banged his head against the wall.
An uneasy feeling slivered through her. When she’d first moved to Slaughter Creek, she’d envisioned a perfect life with Ben in this small town.
And Sadie was thriving, talking and laughing.
But Amelia was doing none of those things.
The nurse, a plump woman named Myrna, stepped from the back. “Miss Nettleton, the doctor will see you now.”
Norma shifted Amelia in her arms, but Amelia shook her head violently. “No, no, no…Bessie no go.”
Norma patted her back. “It’s okay, honey. You’re not getting a shot today.”
“Bessie no go, no go!” Amelia hit her with her fists.
The nurse scowled at Amelia and led her into an exam room.
One of the doctors who volunteered at the clinic entered the room, a stuffed toy attached to his stethoscope. “Hello there, Norma.” He leaned toward Amelia, but Amelia ducked her head into Norma’s shoulder and clawed her arm.
“How is our precious little Amelia today?” Dr. Sanderson asked.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Norma said.
“Is she sick? Running a fever?”
Norma shook her head. “No, it’s the night terrors, the screaming. Her …behavior. I’d like for you to run some tests.”
He narrowed his eyes. “She’s two, Norma. Two-year-olds have temper fits.
We discussed this before -- children develop at different rates.”
