Long Road Home

by Marie Meyer

  Cayden puts his hand over my heart, on the charm lying against my bare chest. “Is that why you chose this from the cache?”

  I climb onto his lap, straddling him. “You gave me wings on our first date, Cayden.”

  He sits up and brushes my hair behind my ears. “What do you see on the horizon?”

  I wrap my legs around his waist, locking our bodies together. “Us.”

  * * *

  Adulting sucks. It’s been three days since I’ve gotten to see Cayden. Three days. THREE DAYS since he rocked my freaking world! I finally choose to end my sexual hiatus and our jobs and the universe conspire to keep us apart. Ugh! What is this life? Why can’t our work schedules play nice?

  Yawning, I tap on the door and push my way into my patient’s room. “Knock, knock!” I put on my cheery nurse voice. “I’ve brought someone with me.”

  “Hi, Emily,” Dr. Stevenson says. “Ren tells me your labor has slowed.” Dr. S studies Emily’s chart, then checks the readout from the fetal heart rate monitor.

  Emily nods, tiredly. “Yeah.”

  “She’s made very little progress since early this morning,” I inform Dr. S.

  “Mom and baby’s vitals look good,” she comments, eyes scanning the readout. “Yet, I would like to get things moving a little faster.” Looking at Emily, Dr. Stevenson smiles and says, “I’m going to break your water, that should speed things up.”

  I notice Emily’s face darken with worry as she looks to her sister Justine. I’ve seen the same reaction from countless mothers. “Everything’s fine, Emily. Nothing to worry about.” I give her a reassuring smile and collect the amnio hook for Dr. Stevenson.

  Justine brushes Emily’s hair off her forehead and squeezes her hand. “It’s okay, Em. You’re in good hands.” Emily nods, a halfhearted smile on her lips.

  I can’t imagine what Emily’s going through, her husband on deployment. She’s got to be worried sick about him. And now she’s giving birth to their child while he’s gone. Bittersweet set of circumstances. Justine tries to be a good stand-in, trying to ease Emily’s anxiety. It’s good that Emily has her sister, that Justine’s touch is enough to alleviate a portion of her fear, it’s better than any drug Dr. S could offer. Even though her husband isn’t here, Emily knows she’s safe…home…as longs as her sister is by her side.

  Dr. S pulls a stool up to the end of the bed. “Emily, this procedure won’t hurt you or the baby. At the onset, you’ll feel a little pressure. When the sac ruptures, you’ll feel a gush, and it will be over.”

  “Okay,” Emily breathes.

  I pass Dr. Stevenson the hook and help Emily get situated on the bed.

  Carefully, Dr. Stevenson preforms the amniotomy and breaks Emily’s water.

  Dr. S turns to me, “Ren, I need an OR setup, stat. There’s meconium in the fluid.”

  “What’s wrong?” Emily’s voice wavers; she’s on the brink of tears. Justine moves closer to Emily, the crushing need to protect her sister, share her pain, her fear, and be her partner.

  “Emily, the amniotic fluid wasn’t clear, the way it should be. It’s best for the baby, at this point, to be delivered by C-section. Nurse Daniels will get you prepped for surgery.” Dr. Stevenson stands and pulls off her gloves. To me, she says, “I’ll meet you in the OR in five minutes.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Before Dr. Stevenson leaves the room, she looks at Emily. “Everything’s going to be fine. It’s time to have your baby!”

  Once the doctor is gone, I hit the call button on Emily’s remote. “Kenna, I need assistance in two forty-three, stat.”

  Through the intercom, Kenna’s voice fills the room: “On my way.”

  The crackle of the pager goes quiet; we’re in the eye of the storm. I have mere seconds to calm this terrified mother and aunt before fear of the unknown sends them both into a panic. Once Kenna arrives, there won’t be time for explanations.

  With a cautious smile, I look to Emily, then to Justine. I need my words to comfort them, transfer hope. “Like Dr. Stevenson said, everything’s going to be fine.”

  Tears well up in Emily’s eyes. “I don’t want a C-section. I need Vince here.” Her voice wobbles with fear. No new mother wants to hear that there is something wrong with her baby. The terror in her voice is palpable, a monster with its claws wrapped around her throat.

  “Dr. S has delivered hundreds of babies this way. She knows what she’s doing. Trust her.” I squeeze Emily’s hand. “Do you know what you’re having?” I need to put Emily’s focus back on her child, make her remember that there is something good and perfect waiting at the end of this scary blip on the map.

  Emily shakes her head, but Justine answers, “They want to be surprised.”

  Every couple that has passed through the hospital’s doors, has left their mark on me, and Emily is no different. Even though her husband isn’t here, I can see how much she loves him—the flash in her eyes when she said his name, the way she cradles her belly, holding her baby and in turn, a part of her husband. And then there’s Justine. Vince isn’t here, so it falls to Justine to be his intercessor. Justine has to be the one to drive away the darkness, the scary and unknown with her words and her touch.

  “Hear that, sis,” Justine says, wiping Emily’s sweaty hair off her forehead. “You finally get to meet your little person.” Emily smiles through her tears.

  “Ready?” Kenna asks, standing at the door.

  I nod. “Justine, you go with Kenna, she’ll get you ready for the OR. I will stay with Emily and get her prepped. We’ll see you in there in five.”

  Justine looks at Emily, sweeping a hand across her forehead. “This is it, baby.” Her voice is thick with tears. “You’re doing so great. I love you, Em.”

  My heart clenches. Coming in a close second to the little ones I get to see come into this world, I also get to witness awesome displays of raw emotion.

  I wheel Emily’s gurney into the OR. The operating room is clinical, bright, and full of commotion, much different from the intimate ambiance of the birthing rooms. “You’re going be fine,” I say, reassuringly.

  Once I have Emily’s gurney locked into place, the surgical team preps the doctors’ work area, hanging surgical drapes.

  “I’ll wait with you until Justine comes in.”

  “Thank you,” she says, her voice low and scratchy. I know she’s terrified. I wish there was something I could do to reassure her, but until she gets to hold her baby, nothing will make any of this okay.

  Kenna ushers Justine to Emily’s side. Immediately, she grabs Emily’s hand, their fingers intertwine, and lock together: an offering from Justine. Just by her actions, I can hear Justine’s unspoken words: I’ve got you, sis. We do this together.

  “All right, Emily,” Dr. S says, “I’m going to begin. Dr. Baird is going to assist in the deliver, too. All you’re going to feel is lots of pressure and some pulling and tugging.”

  I watch Emily’s head bob up and down as she listens to Dr. S describe the C-section process.

  Dr. Stevenson bends her head and takes the scalpel to Emily’s lower abdomen. “Here we go.”

  I hang back and let the surgical team do their thing. My fun starts once the baby’s born.

  I’m mesmerized by how in sync Dr. Stevenson and Dr. Baird are, the way they move around each other, it’s like a choreographed dance. They’ve worked together so often, they know each other’s movements almost by heart.

  I watch the clock. Three minutes into the surgery and I already see the baby’s head. With a quick suction of the baby’s nose and mouth, Dr. Stevenson slides her hands around the slippery bundle and pulls the baby out. I note the time on the clock, calling out, “Time of birth, ten twelve p.m.,” and scribble the time on the dry-erase board.

  I step toward Dr. S as a high-pitched wail fills the room. “Happy birthday, baby girl Harris!” Dr. Stevenson shouts, passing the newborn to me. My heart swells. This part never gets old.

  “A gir
l?” Justine cries. “I have a niece?”

  “Nurse Daniels is going to weigh her and get her cleaned up, then she’ll bring her over to you,” Dr. Baird informs them.

  Taking the pink wiggling little girl in my arms, I usher her to the radiant warmer, perform her Apgar test, put an ID bracelet on her tiny ankle, and clean her up for her mother and aunt.

  The infant wriggles and cries as I sponge her off and swaddle her in a blanket. I’ve done this so many times, I make quick work of the task, knowing the new mom is beside herself to meet her baby.

  While Emily is sewn back up, I present the seven-pound-four-ounce, twenty-one inch bundle of joy to them and place her in Aunt Justine’s arms. “Here she is,” I sing.

  Justine cradles her niece’s head as if she were made of glass.

  “What’s her name?” I ask, watching them cuddle and kiss the little girl.

  A pang of sadness hits me in the gut. This happens to me every time. But since Cayden came into my life, it hurts even more. The blissful unease on Justine’s face when she took the baby in her arms is the same expression I would love to see on Cayden’s face one day. But that’s all it will ever be, only a dream…that will never come true. Sometimes, I don’t know why I stick with this profession. Being around newborns all day is like bathing in the ocean with no skin to cover my muscles and nerve endings.

  “Gabriella.” Emily’s voice, full of pride and love, pulls me from my pity party. “After our mother”—she smiles at her sister—“and Rose,” she adds, reverently. “After Vince’s mom.”

  “Gabriella Rose, that’s a beautiful name.” I pat Justine on the back, happy to be a part of this family’s special day, remembering again why I did choose this profession, despite the pain.

  I may never have children of my own, but being a small part of all the families that come through the hospital doors helps temper the sting.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Cayden

  “I’m here to see Emily Harris,” I say to the security guard outside of the maternity wing. “My name’s Cayden Sinclair.”

  “What is your relationship to the family?” the guard asks.

  “Family friend.”

  On a sticker with yellow and red balloons, he writes the room number, along with my last name and passes it over the counter. “Wear this while you’re on the floor, please.”

  I take the sticker and say, “Thank you,” while he opens the security doors, granting me access to the maternity wing. It’s comforting to know that Ren is working in such a secure environment. This place is locked down like Corps base, Camp Pendleton.

  Slapping the sticker on my shirt, I glance at my watch. I have an hour and a half before I have to pick Mom up and take her to the oncologist. Nothing like spending the day inside of hospitals.

  Pulling my phone out, I type out a quick text to Ren, hoping I will get to see her before I have to leave. I’m at the hospital, visiting a buddy’s wife. Hoping to say hi.

  I’m not sure if she carries her phone while she’s working, but hopefully she’ll get the message. Since the night we slept together, our schedules have done their level best to keep us apart.

  Turning left down the main hallway, the walls are covered in hundreds of pink and blue footprints, with names written next to each. I wonder if Emily and Vin’s little one has her footprint on the wall yet.

  Halting at Emily’s door, I knock. A few seconds later, a woman pulls the door open. She’s older than Emily, but they share similar features. “Hi, I’m Cayden, a friend of Emily and Vin’s?”

  “Oh, hi. Come on in. I’m Em’s sister, Justine.” She pulls the door open wider, welcoming me inside. “The baby’s in the nursery, getting a bath. They’re supposed to bring her back as soon as she’s cleaned up.”

  “Great.” I walk into the room behind Justine, and see Emily propped up in bed. She looks tired, but happy. Among all my close friends, Emily and Vin are the first to have a kid. It’s so surreal.

  “Em, you have a visitor,” Justine announces, like I’m townsfolk being presented to the queen. “I’m going to grab some lunch, give you guys time to visit.” Justine picks up her purse. “Do you need anything while I’m out?” she asks her sister.

  Emily shakes her head. “No, thank you, Just.”

  Justine waves. “Back in a few. Give my niece lots of kisses for me.”

  “Will do, sis. Love you,” Emily calls down the hall.

  Once their family business is taken care of, I step closer to the bed. “Hey, Em.”

  Her blue eyes light up. “Cayden! It’s so nice to see you!” She holds her arms out wide and I sit on the corner of the bed, hugging her.

  “Congratulations, beautiful.” I squeeze extra hard, for Vin. “Here”—I pull back—“these are for you and the baby.” I present the bouquet of pink and white carnations and roses.

  “Oh, they’re gorgeous.” Pressing her nose to one of the carnations, she inhales deeply. “Thank you. I’ll have Justine put them in some water when she gets back.” Emily sets the bouquet on table beside the bed and frowns. “Gabriella isn’t here, she’s in the nursery getting a bath.”

  “Your sister said she should be back in a little bit. I’d love to wait, so I can meet her, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Please stay.” She smiles. Yet, it’s met with somberness. The birth of her child mixed with the absence of her husband. “Having you here makes it feel like Vince is a little closer. You’re part of his Marine family.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “When Gabriella was born, two days ago, we were able to Skype for about ten minutes, when I got out of recovery. He got to see her.” Emily’s eyes fill with tears. “He was so proud. He got all choked up when he talked to her. It shredded my heart,” she chokes out.

  “He is proud. And I know it’s killing him not to be here.” I draw her back into my arms, giving her my shoulder to cry on.

  “Knock, knock,” a voice says at the door. A voice I recognize instantly. Ren. “Someone’s here to see her mommy,” she coos, coming around the corner.

  Emily pats my back and I sit up. “Thanks, Cayden.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffles, brightening, as Gabriella gets closer. “There’s my sweet girl.”

  Wheeling in a little rolling crib, Ren’s smiling face lands on Emily, then on me, sitting at the edge of Emily’s bed.

  Ren has her hair pulled into a short ponytail and her cheeks are flushed a bright pink, she is so damn beautiful. My whole body screams to touch her. It’s been a damn long five days since she’s been in my arms—five days too long. And, shit. Those Minnie Mouse scrubs she has on, cute as hell.

  “Cayden?” Her eyebrows pull together in shock. I’m the last person she expected to see in one of her patient’s rooms. It’s her smile that speaks the loudest, though.

  “Ren”—I stand, walking over to her—“this is a pleasant surprise.” I wrap my arm around her waist and kiss the top of her head, breathing in coconuts.

  “You two know each other?” Emily asks, pointing at us.

  “Uh, yeah—”

  “Yes.” We answer together.

  Ren stares at me, dumbfounded, but snaps out of it when the baby squeals. Her eyes flick to crib. “Oh, goodness! I’m sorry Miss Gabriella. I didn’t mean to keep you from your mommy.” Wheeling the cart to the other side of the bed, she scoops the baby into her arms, passing the tiny bundle to Emily. “I’m sorry,” Ren says, “Here’s your sweet girl.”

  Two seconds.

  In the two seconds Ren had the baby in her arms, I’m hit by how much I would love to have a family. How much I want to build that family with Ren. To see her holding our baby.

  “So, how do you guys know each other?” Emily asks again, tucking Gabriella’s blanket around her.

  I open my mouth to answer, but Ren beats me to it. “Cayden is my boyfriend.” She walks around the bed and comes to stand beside me, proudly putting her arm around my waist.

&n
bsp; Emily looks up from Gabriella and smiles hugely. “Really? Small world, huh?”

  “It really is,” I mutter.

  Ren looks up at me. “How do you and Emily know each other?”

  “Emily is married to one of my Marine buddies, Staff Sargent Vincent Harris. Vin is on deployment right now, but I told him I’d check in on his girls.”

  “Wow, once again, the universe throwing us together. I guess we’re meant to be, Cayden Sinclair.” She winks.

  You don’t know how true I want that to be, Ren Daniels. “So it would seem. Did you get my text?”

  Ren shakes her head. “I don’t keep my phone on me. It’s in my locker, I check it on breaks. Did you need something?”

  “No, I just wanted to let you know I was at the hospital. I hoped I’d get to see you.”

  “Well, I guess we have little Gabriella to thank for this fortuitous turn of events.”

  I look at Emily who is grinning from ear to ear, beaming down at her newborn. “I haven’t gotten to see her, yet. Mind if I hold her?” I ask Emily.

  She glances up at me. “Not at all.”

  Leaving Ren’s side, I skirt the bed, and Emily passes the football-size bundle over, gently placing the baby into my arms. Little Gabriella stares up at me, blinking. She smells like baby powder—the same delicate scent that clings to Ren. Gabriella’s cheeks are rosy pink, she has a head full of jet-black hair like Vin’s, and eyes just like her mommy’s, a clear, ocean blue.

  It’s awe inspiring that this little lady is part Emily and part Vin. Makes what Vin is doing right now, all the more important—making the world better for his daughter.

  Gabriella smacks her lips, a tiny pink tongue sticking out. “Hi there, Gabriella,” I coo, trying not to sound like I’m talking to a puppy. “Such a pretty little girl.”