Kailey suddenly sat up in the bed, her blue eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and confusion. Something was very, very wrong.
"Nurse!" she called, at a moderate volume at first. It quickly elevated to screaming. "Nurse!"
A lady came bustling in, her portly figure masked in the traditional white uniform. "Yes? Yes?!"
Kailey gripped her bulbous stomach, her breathing quickened by now. "I-I need Mac. Get Mac!"
"Ma'am, he's not-"
"Get Mac!" she shrieked, although her body was naturally frail and her throat burned with the effort of it. Contractions were subtle and small but growing, and she struggled to get comfortable, settling in for the long haul of birth that was sure to come. The nurse had rushed away by this time, alerting every relevant person of the news. Mac was needed, immediately. She was not about to give birth to their baby without him, especially with her illness forcing her life to be on the line for it. She rested back against the pillow, closing her eyes. Please, let him be somewhere nearby. Please, let his most recent obligation have been just a few miles away. Please, let him say goodbye, if he had to.
More nurses rushed in, checking on her and changing her bedpan, doing everything for her except the one thing she needed them to do. "Get Mac," she croaked, over and over again, as sweat collected on her brow and her hands gripped the bars on the bed with a grip of steel. She closed her eyes, her chest heaving. Please, God, let him come quickly.
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Maybe thirty minutes later, Mac rushed in to the hospital room, wearing all the appropriate cautions for illness. "Kailey!?" he cried, running to her.
ReplyDeleteShe looked up at him, breathing labored, but smiled, reaching up to grip his arm. "Oh, thank God you're here," she panted, resting her cheek against him. "God, this hurts, Mac. I'm so glad you're here."
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