Dance Away with Me - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,105

but not another contraction.

“I want my pie!” Mr. Felder shouted from the counter, with his usual lack of sensitivity.

“Where’s Savannah?” Michelle cried. “Where’s the car? I have to get to the hospital now! She’s lazy. She’s always been lazy. The only time she ever moved fast was the day she was born.”

At six minutes, another contraction hit. Michelle yelled and crushed Tess’s fingers in her grip.

Tess tried to talk herself down. Michelle’s water hadn’t broken, and with so much time between contractions, it was unlikely she’d deliver nearly as quickly as she expected. Unlikely, but not impossible.

Savannah raced through the door, clutching her own belly. “I’ve got the car.”

“It’s about time!” Michelle staggered up from the chair. “Let’s go. We have to go.”

“I want my pie!” Mr. Felder croaked.

“Get it yourself, you old buzzard!” Michelle screamed. “I’m goin’ to have this baby in the car. I know it!” She clawed at Tess. “You’re coming with me.”

“No! No, I can’t. You have plenty of time. You’ll be fine.”

Her grip tightened. “You’re supposed to help people.”

“Yes, but . . . you hate me, remember?”

“I never said that.”

“You told me not to touch you. You made me promise not to lay a hand on you. Your exact words.”

“I didn’t say anything like that!” Michelle started to cry.

“Stop being such a bitch, Tess!” Savannah exclaimed from the door. “If she dies, it’ll be on your conscience.”

Michelle wasn’t going to die. Not like Bianca. Michelle’s contractions were six minutes apart. It was more likely she’d be sent home from the hospital for arriving too early. But all the self-talk in the world didn’t keep Tess from wanting to cry right along with Michelle.

Savannah splayed her legs, balancing her weight on her heels. “You don’t have any heart.”

Tess was used to Savannah’s bitchiness, but Michelle’s frightened tears defeated her. Somehow she managed to help Michelle up from the chair, although she wasn’t certain who was supporting whom.

“Call Phish!” Savannah shouted at Mr. Felder on their way out the door. “You’re in charge until he gets here. And you’d better not let anybody steal anything.”

Even though Savannah could barely fit behind the steering wheel, Michelle insisted she drive so Tess could stay with her in the backseat. She sank her claws into Tess’s arm. “We’ll never make it.”

“I’m not going to behave like this when I have my baby,” Savannah growled as she pulled out onto the highway.

“That’s what you say now!” Michelle dug deeper into Tess’s arm.

“It’s your fault for getting pregnant,” Savannah countered.

“And it’s your fault for getting knocked up, so stop throwing this in my face.”

Tess had calmed dozens of irrational women over the course of her career. She was an expert at creating a tranquil atmosphere. But all the skill she’d acquired had vanished. She was paralyzed, helpless. Incapable of doing more than pray that Michelle’s contractions would hold steady at six minutes. She thought of the meeting she had scheduled for tonight. How could she believe she had anything to share with other people when she was such a mess herself?

Fifty minutes later, they pulled up to the hospital emergency entrance. Michelle hit the button on the rear window and stuck her head out. “Get me a wheelchair!”

An aide extracted Michelle from the car. When the door closed, Tess sagged back into the seat, shut her eyes, and rubbed the crescent-shaped fingernail marks on her arm. She was done. She had no more responsibility. She should be relieved, but she felt broken instead.

The car began to move only to stop a few moments later as Savannah pulled into a parking place. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

“Bullshit! What if she gets some idiot nurse who doesn’t know what she’s doing? How do you expect me to deal with that?”

“She’s not going to get an idiot nurse.”

“You don’t know that. God, stop being so selfish.”

Tess had to get out of the car, not because of Savannah’s bullying but because she was suffocating under an avalanche of ugly memories. She gripped the top of the car door, trying to talk herself down. You’ll be all right. You’re not in charge. You don’t have to do anything.

Savannah clasped her hands under her abdomen. “God, you’d think you’re the one having the baby.”

Tess followed Savannah to the labor and delivery ward. Instead of calming her, the familiar sights and sounds made Tess want to flee.

Savannah tried to barge into the triage room, and when she was rebuffed, she did her best to push Tess