Page 7 of One Little Mistake
The nurse frowns and sighs.
“Dr. Sanders was in a car accident this morning. One moment, I’ll call the midwife,” she replies, pressing a call button.
I start pacing nervously, flinching every time Erin screams again. Is it really that bad? She looks too pale, and there’s fear in her eyes that’s starting to creep into me, too. What the hell am I even doing here? I should’ve been fast asleep by now.
“I'm Dr. Collins. I’ll be delivering your baby instead of Dr. Sanders,” says a ridiculously young doctor, who immediately fails to inspire any confidence in me. “Come on in. I’ll examine you.”
He and Erin disappear behind the door, and I’m left standing there in the hallway with her black bag, completely lost on what to do next. In the end, I just decide to sit down on a chair by the wall and wait. But I don’t even get the chance.
That same doctor bursts back out, calling out anxiously, “Lizzy, get a gurney—her water just broke, and she’s already at eight!”
I have no idea what that means, but the look on his face is so worried it makes me even more nervous. Suddenly there’s a flurry of activity around me, and once again, I have no clue what to do. So, when they wheel Erin down the hallway on a gurney, I just follow the whole parade.
“I’m not supposed to have a natural birth. Please, do a C-section,” she begs through tears.
“It’s too late for that. The baby’s already on the way.”
“What’s going on?” I cut in.
“Don’t worry so much. Half of our patients come in with some kind of complication, but they still give birth naturally and everything turns out fine,” the nurse says, trying to reassure Erin. Then she turns to me.
“Are you here for a partner delivery? Follow Ellie, she’ll get you a gown, shoe covers, and a mask.”
“No, no, no, no partner delivery, I’m not—”
“So when it comes to making the baby, you men are all front and center,” she snaps, “but when it’s time to support your wife—you vanish into the bushes. Fine, then wait outside the delivery room. But you’re still putting on the gown and shoe covers. At least this one’s sober—earlier today we had a dad who started celebrating before the baby was even born.”
Long story short—I have no idea how it happened, but instead of going home with a clear conscience, I end up sitting in a hallway in a ridiculous white gown that doesn’t fit me at all, flinching every time a gut-wrenching scream comes from behind the door across from me. I’m not feeling great about any of this.
At some point, I catch myself thinking, What the hell am I even doing here?
I almost get up to leave—but the women’s bag in my hand stops me. I can’t just leave it here.
I pace the hallway, still gripping the bag like it owes me something. Then suddenly everything gets suspiciously quiet, and the next second, a sharp, high-pitched baby cry cuts through the silence. I exhale in relief. It’s over.
“Congratulations, Daddy. You’ve got a son,” a woman appears in the doorway and drops the bomb on me.
Wonderful. Just became a “dad.”
“Thanks, but I’m not—”
I want to say I’m not the father and that this is all some huge mistake, but before I can get the words out, the doctor’s loud, panicked voice drowns me out:
“Miss Carol, get the resuscitator. Now. Cardiac arrest!”
“Is… is that supposed to happen?” I ask weakly, calling after the same nurse who just congratulated me on fatherhood—but no one answers me anymore.
CHAPTER 4
Erin
Five months ago
“Damn it!” I hiss, realizing I’ve officially lost the battle with the lock.
Desperation washes over me, and I understand there’s no way I’m getting into the apartment tonight. Just perfect.
“Need some help?” comes a woman’s voice from the side. I flinch at the sudden sound and drop the damn keys on the floor.
