Reed, Fifteen Years Earlier
“Reed Johnson, if you don’t get your ass to this hospital right now, I swear to god I will gut you.”
Sarah has always been good in crisis situations. That’s why she was in charge of getting everything Nolan needed to the hospital when her water broke. I should have put her in charge of me. I’m a mess.
“Sar, I’m trying. This San Diego traffic is shit!”
I’m gripping my hair so tightly with a fist that I can feel the strands being yanked out. I glare at my panicked face in my rearview mirror, willing myself to get a handle on things. I can’t miss this—I can’t miss the birth of my daughter.
“Unfortunately, this is not one of those things that you get to call a time out for, Reed. This ball’s in play with or without you.”
“Football references are not cute right now, Sar,” I shout, looking in both directions and spotting a garage to my right.
“I’m not trying to be cute, Reed. Your wife is losing her shit. I need backup.”
“Right. Backup.” I look ahead at the traffic I’m facing. I’m at least two miles away, and this road is not going to move anytime soon. I’ve tried to outsmart this area enough to know that none of these roads are going to help me out either. They’re either going to dead-end at an ocean or back up into some crazy one-way drive filled with parallel parkers. My only shot is to run.
I hate running. This is why I throw things, dammit.
“Fuck it. I’m gonna run there.” I hang up to the sound of Sarah’s laughter and make a hard, fast right toward the parking garage. It’s for State’s campus, and it’s permits only, but I’m desperate. I find an open spot at the end of the first row, and I pull in, grab the plastic bag of things I could be trusted with, and beep the locks.
I use the little bit of downhill slope on my way out to my advantage, and I’m full-on sprinting when I hit the main sidewalk along the road I just abandoned. Now that I’m out of the traffic, I get a clear view of the backup ahead, and I feel good with my decision when I see a pile of flashing lights, and a tow truck trying to work through the bumper-to-bumper line of cars.
The first mile goes down easy, but I hit my wall just after that. My feet feel a lot heavier, like my shoes are somehow suctioning to the pavement with each and every step. I get to the park and file through my mental snapshots of the route I used to take with Nolan on our walks and runs. She hasn’t been running much lately, being pregnant and all, and I’m just up for any excuse to put this stuff off. I get enough work in on the field.
I duck through the small patio area where the restaurants cluster, then break it open when my feet hit the grass. The park is empty, minus a few people out walking their dogs, so at least there’s nobody to get in my way to slow me down. There also aren’t any witnesses to see me stop mid-sprint in the middle of the soccer field to walk a few steps with my hands on my head. I am breathing hard; I really think I might throw up. My pocket vibrates with a new text from Sarah. I kick it back in without even reading.
I can’t miss this!
I slide to a stop at the glass doors of the main hospital entrance, and I luck out and find the stairs right by the reception desk. I know where I’m going…mostly. Noles and I took our parenting classes here and half of her appointments were here because she was so high risk.
This baby girl we’re having is going to be such a miracle. She’s going to be a fighter, I can tell. She’s already fought through so much. One week early is a lot better than six, like they predicted.
I pop out on the maternity floor and I’m sure I sound like a grizzly bear. My chest is heaving, and I can’t work my tongue to form words. I grasp a paper cup from the dispenser mounted on the wall just outside the waiting room and I fill it four times, gulping down water as fast as I can. Eventually, Sarah spots me and waves her arm emphatically.
“She’s pushing!” She takes the plastic bag from me and tosses it on the chair for later, and with a quick jerk on my arm she sends me up to Nolan’s face—red and sweaty, just like mine.
“Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” Nolan huffs at me.
I give a pathetic, exhausted laugh that only lifts one side of my mouth.
“Left the Jeep on sixteenth at a garage. Traffic was shit. I wasn’t missing this,” I say, finding more of my smile.
Nolan’s hand grips mine sweetly at first, then starts to squeeze so hard that my fingertips turn purple. She begins to yell like a warrior and sit up.
“That’s it. One more like that, Nolan. You’re doing great,” our doctor says somewhere below Nolan’s knees.
My wife collapses back on the hospital bed and pants. I find myself starting to breathe with her, and it’s making my head light.
“How’d it go?” I have no idea how she’s having a normal conversation right now, so I quirk a brow. “You signed. Yeah?”
I shake my head quickly.
“Oh…yeah. We can talk about that later, Noles. You’re kinda busy…” I stop when her hand starts to tighten again, and I rub her back as she sits forward. Her back has been killing her, so it’s the one thing I know might be helpful. She screams out and grunts for a full fifteen seconds, then sucks in a long breath as she falls back into the pillow.
I’m feeling nauseous. If I throw up, she and Sarah will never let me live it down. I reach for the cup of ice on the table and pour a few pieces into my mouth. Sarah jerks the cup away from me and glares into my eyes.
“That’s her ice, you ass,” she says.
I lift a shoulder.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Nolan jerks on my hand to get my attention.
“How did it go?” She’s right back into our previous conversation. It’s weird. Her focus is crazy.
“Oh, uh…fine. We got exactly what we wanted. Three years, forty-two.” I feel weird talking about this in a room full of other people, but nobody else seems to care.
“Three years. Here, in the same place,” Nolan says, her hand softening for just a moment. A smile starts to dust her lips. More than anything, Nolan wanted us to find a steady place to start our family.
I smile back and lean forward to kiss her head.
“Three years, same place,” I say, readying myself for the next push I know is coming.
“Come on, girly. This is the one. I know it,” Sarah coaches from the other side. Nolan’s mom wanted to be here for this, but Peyton is showing up ten days early, three days before they booked their flights. I got Jason to get their flights changed the second Nolan called me and said it was time. They should be here tonight.
Nolan growls on this push, and her entire face, neck, and chest go beet red. I step closer to the doctor on a hunch, and I look just in time to see our baby girl’s head, then shoulders and body slip out for the world to welcome.
“Oh God, thank you God,” Nolan pants. I start to laugh, a little hysterically, and tears pool in my eyes at a rapid pace, sliding down my cheeks as my laughter picks up even more.
“You did great, babe. She’s amazing. So great,” I say just before kissing Nolan’s head. I brush her hair back from her face while the doctor works to clean up our baby and make sure everything is as it should be. A sharp cry pierces the air, and Nolan’s breath hitches.
“That’s her?” She looks at me and grabs my arm.
I nod.
“That’s her,” I smile.
“Mom? Someone wants to meet you,” the doctor says, bringing a perfect tiny human that is somehow ours to Nolan’s chest. We’re both a mess of tears, and someone hands me a pair of odd scissors and holds my hand through cutting the cord. I don’t know how clearly I’ll remember everything that happened in the last two minutes, but I’ll remember this right here.
Two loves of my life, breathing, cooing, looking around wildly and not sure how they got here. I’m not sure how I got to be theirs, how I got so lucky.
“Peyton, meet your daddy,” Nolan says through half laughter and half tears.
“Hey, baby girl. You ready to run my world?” I whisper, kissing her damp but perfect head. I kiss Nolan’s next and slide into the small space on the bed to be with them.
That’s all I need in this world. To be with them.