Dance Away with Me - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,17
of leaving her there, he followed her inside. As she stood at the sink, the mirror reflected his hard jaw and too-long hair. “Bianca said you used to be a labor and delivery nurse. Is that right?”
His intensity made the small room claustrophobic. She pushed her sleeves above her elbows and turned on the water. “That’s right.”
“Exactly what does that mean? Have you ever delivered a baby by yourself?”
What would he do if she said no? She reached for the soap and began to scrub. No matter how famous, how talented, how wealthy this man was, she didn’t like him. Didn’t like the way he was so uptight with his wife. Didn’t like watching Bianca cling to him one minute and snipe at him the other. “I’m a certified nurse midwife. I’ve delivered preemies before.”
But not without backup.
In the mirror, she saw his shoulders slump so that he no longer looked so aggressive. “I—I can’t get a cell connection,” he said. “I thought maybe a helicopter could get through. We were leaving for Knoxville in a couple of days. There should have been plenty of time.”
“Your baby didn’t get the memo.”
He winced, and she regretted her sharpness. She’d dealt with a lot of difficult fathers, and she knew better. “I need you to gather up some things.” She reeled off a list: clean towels, hand sanitizer, sterilized scissors, string, any gauze pads he could find, a big pitcher of ice water. “Do you have receiving blankets? Anything for the baby?”
“No. Bianca was going to have everything shipped from Manhattan.”
“Cut some up, then. From the softest, cleanest material you can find. Two or three.”
He didn’t ask her to repeat the list but set off.
Tess propped Bianca up with pillows and felt her abdomen as she timed the contractions. “It’ll be a while. Would you like to walk around?”
Bianca gazed up from the bed, her blue eyes as large and questioning as a child’s. “I can do that?”
“Sure. Walking’s good. You can labor in the shower or rock on your hands and knees. Whatever feels right to you. There aren’t any rules.”
What felt right, it turned out, was to labor in the bath.
Ian reappeared as Tess was helping Bianca, still clad in her nightgown, into the warm water. He dropped the supplies on the bathroom counter with a thud. “What are you doing? She should be in bed!”
Tess had heard more than enough from unlicensed Doctor North. “Women labor differently now than they did in the fifties.”
“But—”
“Staying in bed is the least productive way to labor, but put some fresh sheets on in case she decides to deliver there.”
“In case?”
Tess had delivered babies at the birthing center from mothers crouched on the floor or curled up in tight spaces. A surprising number of women wanted to wedge themselves between the bed and a wall. “If you have clean plastic, put it under the sheet to save the mattress.”
“Screw the mattress!” He hurried out.
The filmy material of Bianca’s nightgown floated in a smoky cloud around her body. Tess rubbed her shoulders, kept the water warm, and breathed with her through the contractions. Fortunately, Bianca’s self-centered nature kept her from picking up on Tess’s tension.
“I wanted drugs!” Bianca cried at the end of one strong contraction.
Not an option with this birth. “Drugs are overrated,” Tess said, giving her a gentle head massage. “Your body will know exactly what to do.” She prayed that was true.
“Where’s Ian? I want Ian!”
“I’m here.”
He appeared inside the bathroom door, but he didn’t look at her.
“You don’t care!” Bianca snarled at him. “You couldn’t even pretend to be happy when I got pregnant!”
“You were happy enough for both of us,” he said quietly.
Tess had seen more than a few women turn on their husbands while they were in labor, and she reached for the taps. “The water’s getting chilly. Let me warm it up.”
Eventually Bianca wanted out of the tub. Tess took off her wet nightgown and gave her a robe. “Let’s walk a little.”
They moved into the main living area. North stood by the windows, staring out into the night. Now that he’d gathered the birth supplies, he didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, but Tess believed fathers should be actively involved, especially when there was so much marital tension. “Walk with her,” she said. “Let her lean against you when she has a contraction.”
“No!” Bianca exclaimed. “I want you! I want you to walk with me, Tess.”
North seemed relieved, another black mark against him.