Chapter Eight

Devin Cay's General Hospital – Sunday Morning – 1:13 a.m.

“Is there anything else you need me to do before the crew and I take the shuttle back to the hotel? Or would you prefer that we stay?”

It was the unobtrusive voice of Ms. Hive, Armando’s concert planner, who’d been sitting with Armando in the waiting room the last twenty minutes or so. Another twenty minutes before, Armando was leaving the stage after an electrifying performance in one of his most successful concerts to date. And to think that his pregnant wife had been admitted into the hospital for early labor symptoms. One would imagine that it would have affected Armando’s energy. But his output was no different from the dozens of concerts he’d put on throughout his music career. A lively act that always sent the crowd into a rhythmic frenzy. Be that as it may, Armando’s listless demeanor was quite apparent, and Ms. Hive could tell that Annalise’s condition was finally beginning to take its toll on him.

“Did you hear what I said?” she prompted. “Let us know what you want and we’ll comply.”

Armando looked past Ms. Hive and noticed two nurses had rushed back into Annalise’s hospital room – like they’d done fifteen minutes ago. He sprang to his feet and even though he’d been advised to sit in the waiting area, he didn’t think twice about following them. At this point, he was beyond exasperation at how slow the hospital had been in releasing information about his wife. All he knew was that Annalise had been howling off and on for the last six hours and that she was in excruciating pain. Being already three centimeters dilated, Annalise certainly appeared to be experiencing signs of early labor, but the medical staff weren’t saying more than that.

When Armando entered Annalise’s room, the midwife turned her head away from him, fixing her gaze to the floor. It was a sure sign confirming Armando’s suspicion that all was not well with his wife. She looked haggard, a perfect description of a woman who’d cried her last cry and was fed up with being kept in the dark about her condition. Moving his gaze toward the IVs and the electronic fetal heart monitor to observe the baby’s heart rate, Armando assumed he would have been cradling his baby girl in his arms by now.

“Where is the doctor?” he demanded.

“He will be in shortly,” one of the nurses said stiffly. She returned to inject something into one of Annalise’s IVs, her last words a strain, “And he will speak to the both of you.”

“Why does he need to speak to the both of us? Is there a problem with the baby?”

“I’m sure the doctor will answer any questions you may have,” the other nurse chimed in. “We are here to check your wife’s blood pressure and her protein level.”

Annalise turned her frantic eyes on her husband, weakly shooing her hands at the nurses. “Get these nuts out of here before they hurt my baby,” she growled, transitioning smoothly into firing off a few choice words to her husband. “You bastard. Where the hell have you been all evening, leaving me here in all this pain? I’m inclined to think that you don’t love me anymore.”

Armando drew near his wife, never allowing the acidic inflection of her voice to unnerve him. “You know I had to perform tonight,” he said to her, “so why ask questions to upset yourself more than you already are?”

“I asked because you don’t tell me the truth anymore.”

Annalise bit her lip as a flush of heat erupted in her abdomen. The physical pain was nothing like she’d ever experienced in her life, but it could not compare to the feelings of betrayal, squeezing the life out of her heart. How dare Armando stand there and pretend as if he’d done nothing wrong when she’d seen him with her own eyes, making out with Rena Henderson? And the way those two were driven away by their lust, Annalise was sorely convinced that they’d been making out all night. No doubt catching up on old times and all the opportunities they’d missed during those twenty years they hadn’t seen each other. Annalise didn’t believe for one minute that Armando had performed at the concert this evening.

The feeling reminded Annalise of the time when her gay lover had stabbed her in the back by hiding the fact that she was engaged to a man. And to this day, Annalise hadn’t completely gotten over it. Armando knew that. Yet he followed in Sabrina’s footsteps and had done even worse. What Armando failed to see was that he’d compounded the problem and the emotional turmoil she’d endured from Sabrina’s lies had now resurrected with a vengeance. Someone was about to pay with their life, Annalise thought, as she swatted Armando’s hand away from her stomach.

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed. “I don’t know where that hand has been.”

“Annalise, stop it now. You’re acting insane.”

“If I’m acting insane, it’s because you’re the cause of it! I trusted you with my life, but you have betrayed that trust in a huge way! Say you love me still.”

Armando stared at his wife, completely baffled.

“Say it!” she demanded. “You made me fall in love with you and now you wanna back out and leave me stranded? God forbid!”

It did not dawn on Armando that Annalise was referring to his secret encounter with Rena. But even before he could ask her to explain, the doctor walked into the room and made eye contact with the electronic fetal heart monitor. He noticed that there was no sign of a heartbeat, although it could be attributed to the way the electronic probes were connected. And even though the doctor’s expression was hard to read, Armando could still sense that something was wrong.

“Should we be worried?” he asked the doctor.

Instead of answering Armando’s question, the doctor turned to the nurses and said with a sense of urgency, “We have to delivery this baby right away. How much is she dialated?”

“The last time I checked,” one of the nurses answered, “she was eight centimeters.”

“How are her contractions?” the doctor asked, even though he’d studied Annalise’s contraction report to draw his own conclusions.

“Not what we’d expect,” a nurse said.

“And have you given her a dose of Misoprostol like I instructed?”

“Yes…some hours ago.”

It was only then that the doctor turned his attention to Armando and said, “Mr. Beckford, I would like to have a word with you outside in the hall.”

Armando gave his wife a look of concern before he fell in behind the doctor’s quick strides.

“I don’t know of any easier way to put this,” the doctor said.

That line was the only thing Armando heard clearly. Everything else that the doctor told him was a blur, as his mind had shut down upon hearing the tragic news that Annalise had lost the baby – their baby.

“I can’t say for certain why a baby might die in the womb,” the doctor attempted to elucidate, “but there are a number of medical explanations, including, but not limited to genetics, how the placenta works, a mother’s health, age, and lifestyle, and of course, infection. When was the last time your wife had an ultrasound done?”

Armando sniffed away his tears and answered hoarsely, “About a week ago…but the baby was fine. What could have possibly gone wrong between then and now?”

“At this late stage in the pregnancy it’s called intrauterine death, and even though it’s uncommon, unfortunately, it is not rare. How old is your wife?”

“Forty-three…”

“As you may have been advised by your caregiver, as women grow older, the risk of having a baby increases, this includes stillbirth. I am truly sorry for your loss and wish there was more that I could have done.”

Armando stared at the doctor perceptively. “How long have you known that my wife lost the baby?” he asked.

The doctor looked away to stall for an answer. “I’m having Mrs. Beckford’s medical records faxed from the hospital in Trinidad. In the meantime, we will have to figure out a way to explain this unfortunate tragedy to your wife. She’s been rather hysterical all evening and I don’t fancy her taking the news well –”

“Come on, doc, be straight with me. How long have you known?”

The doctor turned his attention back to Armando, a worried expression now creasing his visage. “I’ve known only for a few hours.” Actually, the doctor had known for all of the fifteen hours since Annalise had been admitted to the hospital, but such a statement could cost him his professional license. Because if the full truth was to be revealed, it would show that the doctor had made a very bad call and was trying to cover it up. “I simply didn’t know how to break the news to you both…but I have been monitoring her the entire time because of an infection present in her body.”

“An infection?”

The doctor could detect a strong measure of distaste in Armando’s voice, which to him was quite understandable. He’d just told Armando about the tragic loss of his baby.

“That’s the reason why I have given her a dose of Misoprostol to induce labor,” the doctor explained. “It’s the reason why she’s now feeling the pressure on her cervix –”

“After all this time,” Armando snapped. “And you expect me to explain this to my wife? She’s already in enough pain, man! What sort of hospital are you guys running on this island, to be withholding such vital information? Maybe I should blame you for the death of our baby!”

Armando turned and walked away in the direction of Annalise’s room. If he’d stayed where he was a second later, he may have punched the doctor in the face. But deep down, Armando knew he shouldn’t be so quick to blame the doctor for the loss of their baby, because it was possible that the baby could have been dead in the womb before Annalise was even admitted to the hospital. He just didn’t understand why the doctor would hold back something as important as that.

However, Armando would be certain to get an autopsy to confirm exactly what had happened. For all he knew, it could be Annalise’s fault that their baby was dead, because he’d warned her that traveling at this stage in her pregnancy could result in something like this. But despite how traumatic the news was, Annalise needed to be told that she was about to deliver their stillborn daughter.

Back in the waiting area, Ms. Hive and the crew were suddenly greeted with a deafening scream, bringing them all fumbling to their feet. And as unfamiliar as was the intensity of the pitch, they figured that the scream belonged to Annalise. Not even a wounded animal sounded as pitiful. Ms. Hive deduced that something had gone wrong, but there was no use in trying to relieve their curiosity. Having no family connection to Annalise would exempt them from getting into Annalise’s room at the moment.

Instead of fretting over the situation, Ms. Hive dropped her head reverently and began to quote the ‘Our Father’ prayer to aid in Armando’s strength. Because Ms. Hive knew that if anything tragic had happened to that baby, Annalise would not rest until she made everyone’s life a living hell – beginning with Armando’s.