Authors: Betsy Graziani Fasbinder
I waited for the next wave of pain to come and go, then stepped into the garage. When I flipped on the light, my new Volvo gleamed, making the empty gap beside it seem that much more vacant. Jake had taken the Bug. Now panic took a bigger hold, making my heart beat wildly and scattering my thoughts into a torrent.
Focus
. I had to focus.
I called my doctor’s exchange. I gave the details of how far I’d progressed. Contractions were about twenty minutes apart. Suddenly, it felt frightening to be alone in the house.
After another hour had passed, my labor was progressing, and my fury was rising along with it. When my doctor called back, she urged me not to wait any longer. She’d be waiting for me at the hospital. I called for a cab. Throwing a coat around my shoulders, I paced and peered through the window, the increasing grip of contractions causing me to lean against the wall for support.
I waited another fifteen minutes before I grabbed the keys to my new car.
* * *
It felt odd to be on the other side of the hospital experience: the tedious questions at intake, the confirmation of my birth date, insurance information, and recitation of everything I’d eaten. After registration, I was finally in the family birthing room. The mechanics of a regular hospital room had been softened by pastel wallpaper and comfortable furniture for family members.
“Who can I call for you, Dr. Murphy? You’re eight centimeters dilated. Your delivering physician will be here any minute.” Maggie Simon was a seasoned delivery nurse I’d met during my labor and delivery rotation. I was pleased to be in such experienced hands.
“Please, call me Kate,” I said to Maggie. “You’ve just felt my cervix. I think we can abandon the formality of—” A contraction stopped me from finishing my sentence.
I’d given up dialing home after a dozen tries and couldn’t bring myself to call my dad or Mary K. What would I say?
I’m in labor and Jake’s missing
.
I panted through the next wave until the grab in my abdomen released. “I can’t imagine what’s keeping Jake.”
Maggie removed her rubber gloves and tossed them in the trash. She covered my exposed body with the crisp sheet and patted my knee in reassurance. “Well I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be your honorary girlfriend. How’s that?”
I nodded, afraid that if I spoke a sob would escape.
* * *
I held Ryan in my arms, amazed at the miracle of her. The light of mid-morning shone bright in the room, letting me discover each detail. Thick, dark hair covered her head, and impossibly long fingers reached outside of her blanket. Her eyelids fluttered, revealing smoky gray eyes, then closed again as she stretched in a yawn.
My delivering physician had come and gone, a phantom in a mask. She had been called to another delivery and it was once again just Maggie in the family birthing room with Ryan and me.
“I never get tired of seeing these little ones arrive.” The nurse tilted her head and looked at her watch. “November tenth. That makes her a Scorpio. And let’s see, Monday’s child. But she doesn’t look full of woe to me. Definitely full of grace or fair of face.”
Despite her being only a few hours old, I recognized on Ryan the shape of Jake’s brow.
Not Monday’s child. Not a life full of woe
,
I silently vowed. I looked into Maggie’s tired eyes. “Thanks for staying past your shift.”
Maggie gave a nod and stepped toward the door. “No sassing your mom now, Ryan. She’s had a pretty tough night. Sleep, Kate. It may be your last chance. We put the batteries in them when we discharge.”
When the door closed behind her, I allowed my false smile to fade.
* * *
I sensed Jake’s presence before I opened my eyes. His eyes were bloodshot. On his brow, above his glasses, an angry purple bruise was forming, and his chin was scraped and bloody. His hair was matted with dried blood over one ear, and his hand was wrapped with white gauze stained crimson.
He leaned toward me but I turned my face away from him. I forced down the hot urge to reach up and slap him. The first glimpse of him brought relief, then fury hit. I wanted to scream,
Where the hell have you been?
Jake pulled back, his eyes darting between my face and my deflated belly. “Oh God, Kat. You’re so strong. You must’ve been so scared. I flew over here as soon as I got home and got your messages. I saw Ryan. They’re getting her ready to bring in here. She’s perfect.”
My words came out like whole notes, one to a measure. “Where. Have. You. Been?”
“An accident. I had an accident in Sausalito. The Bug rolled over into a ravine. I don’t know how long I was out. I—”
As Jake explained, I saw the pictures in my mind. My old Bug, flipped over, mangled and smashed. Jake, hanging upside down from the makeshift seatbelt, unconscious, his face bleeding. He’d had an accident. He’d been unconscious. How could I be angry at him? Then it dawned on me. Sausalito—not exactly on the way from Murphy’s to our house. Mike said he’d left the bar just after the game started. Where had he been all afternoon and all night?
“I had to show them myself. It’s for our future. Ryan’s future. This will be the most amazing installation yet.”
“Show who
what
?”
“I met this guy at Murphy’s who works for the Golden Gate Bridge commission. He knows Mayor Agnos and Governor Deukmejian. They were meeting up in Sausalito today, having dinner. I knew if they heard my idea they could pull strings and—”
“Strings, what strings? Strings for what?”
“Once they saw how amazing it could be, I was sure they’d grant the permits.”
I sat up with a jerk. “This is about the waterfall? We’re here again, Jake. The Golden Gate? Your drawing? You said that was nothing to worry about!”
“But Kat, they listened. They loved the idea. I sketched it for them right on the tablecloth. George Deukmejian knew my work. He thinks if we can work out the logistics with traffic and permits and safety that it would be spectacular. Burt’s great at that stuff. This is for us. For Ryan.”
“If it was so perfect, why did you sneak out of the bar where I thought you were without calling?”
“I didn’t know I was going until I met the guy at Murphy’s. I should have called, but I didn’t want to get you excited if it didn’t pan out. You’ve been looking at me like I’m a monster or a crazy man every time I draw anything. I planned on being back before you woke and you never would have missed me, but on the way back I—”
“But what? What!” A hysterical ping had entered my voice. Suddenly the smell of Jake’s sweat and the trickle of dried blood on his brow infuriated me.
“I know I messed up. Isn’t missing my daughter being born punishment enough? I’ll never get that back.” His eyes became the green of a stormy sea against the red lightning of his bloodshot whites. I pressed my palm against Jake’s chest and pushed him. “Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you.” He tried to lean toward me, but I kept my hand splayed like a starfish on his sternum. “I can’t live like this. Never knowing when you’re going to let your impulses dictate your behavior.” I pushed him further away. “I just can’t.”
“It was an
accident
. I had a car accident. I’d never leave you alone on purpose.”
My voice was alien and cold. “Get
out
, Jake! Just leave me alone. Do us both—Do all three of us a favor and just walk away. I can’t count on you.”
He covered his face with both hands. My face and lips had turned to stone, rigid and unmoving. I didn’t care about his accident. Didn’t care that he probably needed stitches in the scalp wound that was still bleeding.
He pulled my fingers to his lips, kissing them over and over again. “I know you’re upset. You’ve got every right. But this should be the happiest day of our lives. I haven’t even
met
our daughter and already I know I’d die for her.”
“It’s not that easy. I was all alone.
We
were all alone. How can I ever trust you again? I can’t live this way.
Leave
. Just leave us alone.”
Jake’s pleading was interrupted by the slight opening of the door. From behind it peeked my father’s bushy brows. “There they are,” he sang. “There’s the beautiful mother and the proud papa.” He pushed the door open and Alice entered behind him carrying a bouquet of flowers with an “It’s a Girl”
balloon bobbing overhead. Maggie had done one last service for me by calling my dad at the pub, but their cheerful arrival was a mismatch for what was transpiring between Jake and me.
The room seemed suddenly absent of air.
“We took a look at little Ryan through the window,” Alice said. “She’s just a perfect angel.” Through her makeup, Alice’s face showed the ashy remnants of a hangover.
I couldn’t take it all in. Only hours before, I’d delivered my baby, feeling utterly alone—a nurse as proxy for my husband—too embarrassed to call anyone who knew me. Now the same room held a celebration of new life and my injured husband, who I had just told to leave my life.
Dad leaned over the bedside and kissed me, first on one cheek and then on the other. “How’s
my
little girl?”
“I’m fine, Daddy.”
Alice threw her arms around Jake with giddy laughter. “Can you believe it? You have a baby girl. You’re a
daddy
.” Then she pulled back and took in the view of Jake’s bloody brow. “Dear God. What happened?”
In a flurry of explanation, Jake told about his accident and sobbed as he talked of missing Ryan’s arrival. Alice soothed him with pats and hugs.
Jake looked back at me over Alice’s shoulder, his mouth crimped in anguish. “
I’m so sorry
,”
mouthed his lips. My furious pulse pounded in my temples. Just as Alice pulled away from Jake, a nurse came into the room pushing a Plexiglas bassinette. The pink card at the foot of the bassinette read, “Bloom, Girl.” Her face peeked out from under the tiny pink stocking cap, her lips and tongue sucking hungrily. I recognized the nurse, Ginny Hatfield, who’d looked over several of my infants after surgery. “Hi, Dr. Murphy. I see you’ve done a little overtime here at the hospital. You do nice work.” She pushed the bassinet between Jake and me.
Alice held her elbows tight to her sides and her hands fluttered in rapid, silent applause. “Look who’s here. Just look who’s here, Angus. Isn’t she just an angel?”
Jake’s tortured gaze fell onto Ryan, who squeaked and gurgled. At first, when she opened them, her eyes scanned around the room, unable to fix on anything in particular. Then Jake leaned toward her. As soon as he drew close to her, Ryan’s movement stopped and her eyes fixed on Jake. Ryan’s gaze remained locked to Jake’s and neither made a sound.
“Now
there’s
a baby who knows her daddy,” Ginny said. “I’ll let you all visit, then I’ll want to let Ryan learn how to belly up to the bar.” My breasts throbbed in agreement with Ginny’s assessment as she left the room.
Alice and Dad twittered as they inched closer to Ryan. They cooed and declared every inch of her beautiful and perfect. Dad spoke in a hush, his chin dimpling to stop his tears. “Isn’t she grand? Just look at those wee hands,” he said, holding Ryan’s long, slim fingers between his thick ones. He pulled a hanky from his back pocket and blew his nose with his customary honk.
“Train’s in,” Alice said with a smile.
“All aboard,” Dad replied. He gave Jake’s back a hearty pat.
Alice pulled her Kodak Instamatic from her pocket book. “Say cheese!” She snapped, the light flashed, and the flashcube rotated, ready for another picture of the perfect family on its happiest day. “And to think,” Alice said, her lips drawn down, “on this very night little Ryan could have lost her daddy. It could have been such a sad, sad day. Look at you, Jake with blood all over his face. And here you are. A happy little family.”
My gut twisted into a fist. Alice demonstrated all of the sympathy I should have been feeling for Jake. This was a
normal
reaction to hearing someone was in an accident.
Ryan squeaked a whimper, her body contracting into a tight little ball. Soon her face contorted and reddened. A strangled cry erupted. Such a pained sound out of such a little form. Her crying sparked an ache deep within me that told me I’d do anything I could to keep this little being from knowing pain.
Jake looked up at me, his face pleading.
Don’t do this. Don’t take everything away
. In my cells, in my bones, in the marrow that flowed though them, I knew that keeping Ryan from Jake would kill him as surely as if I drove a scalpel through his heart.
“That’s your cue, Daddy,” Alice said, her head nodding toward Ryan.
He sat motionless, seeming paralyzed between his urge to embrace his baby daughter and facing my fury. And what had he done, really? He’d followed a lead that could make an artistic vision a reality. He’d dined with the mayor and the governor. And he’d had a car accident after which he’d come to the hospital, bloody, to be at my side. What was so wrong?