for her. She huffed and she puffed and she had to sit down on a huge rock outside someone's house. He almost wondered if he'd have to go and get the car for her, but she insisted that she could get home again. She looked so vulnerable and so huge that he felt desperately sorry for her, but she seemed to accept it as the way things were, and the next day she even got up and made him breakfast before he left for work. She seemed to be brimming with energy and she said something about cleaning the baby's room again, which he thought unnecessary, but she seemed hell-bent on it when he tried to discourage her, and as he left, she was dragging the vacuum across the floor, and he was faintly worried about her, so much so that he decided to drop by again before lunch, and when he did, he found her quietly lying on the bed with his stopwatch in her hand, timing contractions as she did the Lamaze breathing she had learned this time. She looked at him with a distracted look and he hurried to her side.
“Is this it?”
She smiled peacefully up at him. “I wanted to be sure before I dragged you home from work, or lunch at the Polo Lounge.”
He looked suddenly nervous as he took the stopwatch from her hand. “You shouldn't have vacuumed the baby's room.”
But she only laughed. “I have to have this kid sometime, you know.” And her due date was only four days away now. He canceled his lunch and called the doctor for her, and then told his secretary that he wouldn't be in for the rest of the day. But try as he would, he couldn't make her go to the hospital yet. Even the doctor said she could wait a while, but Bill was afraid they'd wait too long at home.
She remembered her last experience only too well, when it had taken days for the baby to be born. There was no reason to rush now, and the breathing was helping her control the pain. Bill made her a little cup of soup, and sat quietly in the bedroom with her, and now and then she got up and walked around. And then at four o'clock, she looked at him with a distracted frown. She couldn't stand up anymore, or talk through the pains. She knew it was time to go, and he hurried to her dressing room to get her bag, and then rushed back again, and as she changed her clothes her water broke all over the white marble bathroom floor, and then suddenly the pains were coming hard and fast and the breathing hardly helped. Bill looked as though he were going to panic and she was trying to reassure him while he helped her get dressed at the same time. But the pains were coming too hard and fast now.
“I told you we shouldn't have waited this long.” He was terrified. What if she had it there? What if the baby died …
“It's all right.” She tried to smile at him, and he kissed her hair, and finally they got her dress on and he swept her off her feet, and carried her barefoot to the car. “I need shoes.” She almost laughed, but the pains were too sharp. She clutched at him instead, and he ran back for the sandals she wore all the time now, and drove to Cedars Sinai Hospital with his foot solidly on the gas, barely stopping for lights. The Rolls had never been used as an ambulance before, but he was desperate now. She was giving little sharp screams with each pain, and she said she could feel the head. He left the car doors open as he rushed her inside, and a nurse went out to lock his car up for him, as Anne panted and tried to breathe, and he tried to help, and they called for her doctor to come downstairs. There was no time to get her to maternity, and Anne was half crying now as she lay on the gurney in the emergency room.
“I can feel the head … oh God … Bill…'The pressure was unbearable, and it felt as though a bowling ball was tearing her apart as she looked desperately at him. He winced every time another contraction came. He had never seen his first child born, it wasn't done in those days, and he wasn't