“Cassie?” Keira says, her voice raw and high-pitched.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s coming,” she says before groaning into the phone; a sound that I recognize from years of hearing it day in and dayout. She’s having contractions. Strong ones, from the way she’s exhaling.
“Where are you?”
She breathes through the contraction, and once she’s able to talk, says, “Hospital. I told Rob I didn’t want him to be there. Thought I could do it by myself.” Her voice cracks. My sister never cries.
“What can I do?” I ask. Eli stares with worried eyes and mouths, “What’s she saying?”
“I can’t do this alone,” she sobs.
I understand then. She won’t ask it out loud. She’s too proud for that, but she called. That means everything.
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 32
The drive to the hospital takes twenty minutes. I make it in twelve.
I’ve never had to go to the maternity ward before, so I stumble in the hospital entrance, looking left and right like a headless chicken with my hair slipping out of my bun. Thank God I didn’t eat any of those pot brownies tonight.
I run to the help desk, almost tripping over my unlaced sneakers. I didn’t bother taking the time to tie them.
She called me.
She could’ve reached out to her friends, to our mom, but she didn’t. She wanted me here. I’m not messing that up.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” A man wearing a security outfit approaches me, his hand on what I assume is a weapon. A new low for me.
“Where’s labor and delivery?” I ask, breathless.
He looks behind my shoulder to where my car is likely parked in a towing zone, then back at me. He seems to be wondering whether he should call backup, but I guess the place I’m looking for gives an explanation for the state I’m in because he says, “Third floor, to your left.”
“Thank you.”
I make a beeline for the elevator and rush to the nursing station of the ward once I’m up. It feels strange, to be on the other side of the counter. I ask for Keira’s room, and a tall nurse with a kind smile brings me to her.
“I’m here,” I exclaim as I step inside the room, dropping my bag to the floor and immediately going behind my sister to push on pressure points at her lower back. I don’t think she even notices I’m here. She’s sitting on an exercise ball, rocking her hips left and right while moaning through her exhales. I’d bet everything I have she’s close to being fully dilated. It’s a strange talent nurses develop in this department; the ability to tell how close a patient is to delivering just by hearing the sounds they make.
“I can’t do it,” Keira says, voice strained like she’s been crying.
“Yes, you can. You did it before, and you’ll do it again. Now, just breathe.”
She doesn’t listen and shakes her head. “I wasn’t alone before. And—” Her sentence is interrupted by a contraction. Her body tightens, face twisting in pain.
“Breathe, Keira.” My thumbs press harder against her lower back. I inhale loudly so she follows my pace. After a minute, her body relaxes, and I move so I’m facing her. With my hands on her shoulders, I say, “You’re not alone, all right? So long as you want me here, you’re not alone.”
Her eyes well up, or maybe they were already teary.
We go through a half hour of the same pattern. I breathe with her, encourage her to drink and rest in between contractions, and soon, her nurse, Kelly, is checking on her, and she’s fully dilated.
“I feel like I need to push,” Keira groans.
“All righty, then,” Kelly says, not taking my sister’s tone personally. “Let’s have a baby!”
She sets the bed up, and then Keira is pushing like a true champion. I’m holding her thigh up like a partner usually would and try my best not to overstep on Kelly. Today, I’m just a sister.
