Week Six: Premature Labor
David flung open her door just as Maddie was trying to stretch—bending from side to side as far as she could, and then reaching for the ceiling. Her back had been aching since lunch, a sure sign she had been sitting too long.
"Tonight, for your dining pleasure, we have reservations at the Ivy. 'But David!' you say, 'that's where all the celebrities are doing their deals these days!' How could I have gotten a table there at the last minute, you ask? Well, it's not everyone that can imitate the smooth baritone of Mr. Die Hard himself, but you"—he swung her around in an impromptu waltz—"have the great good luck to be going out with a top-notch Bruce Willis impersonator." He went to dip her slightly, and she winced.
"Hey--are you OK?" he asked.
"Fine," she waved him away and sat down. "My back's just been bothering me."
"All day?"
"Off and on."
David raised his eyebrows. "How 'off and on'?" Maddie looked at him, puzzled. "Like every five or ten minutes?" he pressed.
"I don't know, David," she said, irritably. "Maybe…I guess so."
He pulled her up from the sofa. "Jesus, Maddie, didn't you read any of the stuff Nurse Bridges gave us last week?"
Maddie started to retort, but doubled over as pain wrapped around her belly and squeezed. David waited until she could stand up straight again, and then hurried her out of the office. "Agnes," he said as they passed the reception desk, "Ms. Hayes and I are leaving a little early. Lock up, will you?"
As they walked out the door, Maddie protested, "David—I'm sure I'm fine—"
"Don't argue, Maddie, unless you want Jergenson delivering the little snapper." He punched the elevator button repeatedly, hustled her to the car, and then took off on squealing tires for the hospital.
The next few hours passed in a blur. She was examined, poked, prodded, and scanned. The contractions continued, about every seven minutes or so, David said—but they didn't seem to be getting more painful or frequent, which apparently was good.
Eventually, she lay in a bed, hooked up to a machine that measured the contractions and the baby's heart rate, fluids and medication running through an IV into her arm. David sat next to the bed in the room's only chair. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
Maddie's chest tightened. Things between them had been good lately, so good. After all the ups and downs, they were on a tentatively even keel. And they were both, she thought, looking forward to having this baby together. Tears pricked her eyes; now that she was finally lying still, all the frightening possibilities came crowding in. Pressing her hands to her belly, she silently pleaded for the contractions to stop, for everything to be all right.
David saw her tears. "Hey…hey," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "Everything's gonna be fine, Blondie. Just fine."
"I know. It's just that"—she suddenly had a thought—"You're going to think this is silly, but—I want my mother."
"You got it." He seemed relieved to have something to do. "One grandma-to-be, coming right up. I'll be back in a minute." He leaned over and kissed her.
As he walked out of the room, Maddie realized how much she had started to rely on him, how much she was counting on him to help with this baby. Something about that nagged at her brain…the baby…she still hadn't told him! She had been on edge these last few weeks, waiting to be able to tell him—but the panic of the last three hours had driven it from her mind.
She thought they had done a sonogram tonight, though they had run such a bewildering array of tests so quickly, it was hard to be sure. As soon as she saw the doctor, she would ask her. Then she could tell David. She smiled to herself, thinking of his reaction, then shifted on the pillow and closed her eyes.
* * *
David grabbed a carton of orange juice from the cafeteria and headed to the pay phones. He checked his watch—8:30 pm—Lamaze would be starting soon. Well, they'd have to catch up next week.
He dialed the Hayes' number, reminding himself to breathe deeply and sound reassuring. There was no need to panic them.
"Hello?"
"Hi—Mrs. Hayes? It's David, David Addison."
"Oh, hello, David, how are you?" Mrs. Hayes replied, sounding a bit uncertain. Then—"Is Maddie all right?"
"Yes, she's fine. She had some contractions tonight, though, so we're at the hospital—"
"But—but—it's far too early! Is the baby all right?"
"So far, he's, uh, everything's OK." He didn't know whether Maddie had told them the baby was a boy. How could he not know that? "They gave her some fluids, and the contractions are slowing down. Everything's going to be fine," he said, with more confidence than he felt.
"Well, maybe I should come out there…to help, you know. Do you think Maddie would want that?"
David had to smile. No one wanted to second-guess the formidable Ms. Hayes—not even her mother. "Yeah, I think she would. She asked me to call you."
"I'll see if I can catch the red-eye."
"Great. I'll pick you up."
"Oh, David, that's nice of you, but I'm sure you have lots of important things to be doing."
"Mrs. Hayes, nothing is more important than this. I'll see you at the airport."
There was silence for a moment. Then Maddie's mother said, "Thank you, David." He thought she might be crying.
They said their goodbyes, and David walked back down the corridor toward Maddie's room. Had Maddie told her parents they were back together? He didn't know that either…he wasn't even sure they were aware of the whole Walter débacle.
He shook his head. The more he knew her, the more of a mystery she became.
Walking by the nurse's station, he spied Dr. Weed checking over a chart. She had been terrific—very reassuring to Maddie—but David felt that he needed to get the unvarnished truth.
"Excuse me, Doctor."
"Yes? Oh, Mr. Addison—I was just about to look in on our patient. How are her spirits?"
"Well, her mother's on her way, so that should help. Listen, Doc, can I ask you…" He swallowed. "What if you can't stop the contractions? Will the baby be OK if he comes this early?" He braced himself for her answer.
"Well, it's hard to know, Mr. Addison."
"But—she's 32 weeks along…I mean, babies have been born that early before, right? And they're fine, right?"
"Actually"—the doctor consulted Maddie's chart—"she's only 30 weeks."
This didn't make sense. "Only 30 weeks? No, no—I'm sure she was 32 this week. I've been, uh, keeping track."
Dr. Weed closed the chart and glanced up at him. "Yes—I guess there was some mix-up on that point. But when we did the sonogram a few weeks ago, it was apparent that she was not as far along as she thought…"
She went on, explaining something about the baby's lungs needing to develop further, low birth weight, vulnerability to infection…David stood there nodding, but he couldn't take any of it in.
Two facts flashed on his brain as if in neon lights:
He had to be the baby's father.
Maddie had known—and hadn't told him.
He collapsed into the nearest chair.
"Mr. Addison, are you all right?" Dr. Weed's voice seemed to come from very far away. He looked up and tried to focus.
"I know the possibilities are scary, but in all likelihood, she won't deliver right away. We have the contractions under control, and she hasn't dilated at all, which is the important thing. We'll put her on bed rest for a week or so, and see how it goes. The most important thing is to reduce her stress level: every day that baby stays inside, his chances get better and better."
"Yeah, right, of course—low stress."
"Shall we go in?" she asked.
David walked into the room behind her. She turned around and put a finger to her lips. Maddie was asleep, the machines still printing and clicking and beeping around her. The doctor checked a printout, then gestured for David to follow her into the corridor.
"Well, it looks like the contractions have stopped for now, and the baby's heart rate is right on track." She looked at him kindly. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? We'll call you if anything changes."
"Sure," David said numbly.
He got to the car and just sat there. Once upon a time, with feelings like this swirling inside him, he would've gone straight to the nearest bar to commune with the Cuervos. But he had to pick Maddie's mother up at 7:00am, and he didn't want to be reeking and slurring when he did.
He rested his head on the steering wheel for a long moment. He was hurt, outraged, but also confused. Why would she do this? "I wish with all my heart that this was your baby growing inside me," she had said, not so long ago. Apparently her wish had come true—so why would she keep that from him?
Had he done something to make her change her mind? He didn't think so; if anything, just the opposite. He thought of their shopping trip, when she had asked his opinions; and then, after class that night…she seemed closer to making him a permanent part of the baby's life—and hers—than ever.
He finally turned on the engine and started home. As he drove, images of the last several weeks flipped through his mind: Maddie laughing at dinner, rolling her eyes at him across her desk, breathing with him in Lamaze, clasping his hand as they made love.
Then he remembered the night a few weeks ago, when she told him the baby was a boy. He pictured her faraway look, and the way she hadn't wanted to talk about the sonogram. She had known then.
He thought of his own insecurity that night, feeling like he was there on sufferance. He had worked so hard, both before she came home and after, to prove to her what a good father he would be, so that she would choose him.
Well, the time for choosing was over. This was his baby, his son. He didn't have to prove anything to anyone. He would be involved in this child's life whether Maddie wanted him or not.
David unlocked his apartment door and threw the keys on his old trunk. He went to the refrigerator to get himself a beer, and then walked into his bedroom. His answering machine was blinking.
The baby, he thought, punching the button; but it was only a random sales call. He pushed "Erase" and the machine began rewinding...and kept going, all the way back to the beginning of the tape.
Maddie's voice filled the stillness of the room as the months-old message played: David, are you there? If you're there, please pick up. I just called the office and Agnes said you'd left for Chicago. David, please, I really don't want you here. I don't want to go into it now, just please do as I ask…I'm having a hard enough time sorting out everything without having to go 15 rounds with you—
Rage coursed through him. It was the same damn thing with her, over and over: Do this, don't do that, I'm not talking to you, don't come here, wait for me, none of your business. He ripped the machine out of the wall and hurled it—the window shattered. He could hear a faint crash as the machine hit the pavement below, splintering into a thousand pieces.
* * *
Maddie was sitting up in bed, picking at her breakfast of lumpy oatmeal and cold toast, when David and Mrs. Hayes walked in.
"Maddie!" Mrs. Hayes exclaimed, coming quickly to the bed to hug her. She rested her hand on Maddie's belly. "How's my grandchild?"
"He's fine, Mom, really," Maddie replied, squeezing her mother's hand. "Thanks for coming—I'm so glad you're here." She looked at David, who was hanging back, apparently reluctant to interrupt the mother-daughter reunion.
"Still no contractions?" he asked.
She shook her head, smiling over at him. "I think they'll let me go home later today."
"Really? That's great." She thought his voice was missing some of its usual buoyance, but figured he probably hadn't gotten much sleep.
"Call me when you're ready to go. In the meantime, I'd better get back to the office—make sure MacGillicudy and Viola are behaving themselves." He backed toward the door.
"All right," Maddie said. Wasn't he even going to kiss her?
Her mother walked over to him, taking his hand and kissing him on the cheek. "David—thank you," she said, brushing away a tear. "Look at me, acting like a silly old woman!" she smiled.
David seemed touched by her emotion. "No—you're acting like a grandma, Mrs. Hayes."
"Oh—call me Virginia. After all, we're practically—"
The door opened and a nurse came in to check Maddie's vitals and readjust the contraction monitor. By the time she was done bustling around, David was gone.
Maddie spent the remainder of the morning chatting with her mother and getting instructions on strict bed rest: she could get up once a day to take a shower, and that was it. She was supposed to lie on her left side, stay quiet and calm. In addition, the doctor said, no…intimacy…until they were sure that the contractions weren't coming back.
Maddie thought of David and nearly laughed in the doctor's face; her orders stood pretty much in direct contradiction to the way their relationship worked. Then she sighed. Apparently, they were going to have to learn—again—a new way of being with each other, at least for the next few weeks.
* * *
"Go slow, now," David said to her several hours later, as he helped her up the stairs to her bedroom. Her mother had gone up ahead of them and was turning down sheets and fluffing pillows.
"I'm not an invalid," she protested. "I'm just having a baby."
"Yeah, well, hopefully not today," he said, steering her toward the bed. She climbed in.
"Maddie, dear, would you like something to drink?" her mother asked, smoothing the bedclothes around her.
"Nothing right now, Mom, thanks."
Mrs. Hayes turned to David. "What about you?"
"Thanks, Mrs.—Virginia, but I'd better get going."
"Oh, of course," Virginia said. "You must be so busy."
Maddie raised her eyebrows at him. They weren't that busy, unless he had accepted a raft of new cases this morning. His concern over leaving the office was atypical, to say the least. And she had been hoping to have time to talk to him, to let him know…
But if he was in that much of a hurry, it would have to wait. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with her mother here.
"Need anything before I go?" he asked her.
Yes, she thought. I need to know what's wrong, why the Hooky King is in such a rush to put his nose back to the grindstone. Aloud she said, smiling for her mother's benefit, "No, no, we're fine. Mom will take care of everything."
"That's why I'm here!" Virginia said brightly. "Maddie, I'll just go and get your magazines from downstairs."
David watched her leave, then turned back to Maddie and ran a hand through his hair. "Bert and I are staking out Brentano's Bakery tonight, so I'll call you in the morning."
Moving toward the bed, he bent down to kiss her cheek. She turned her face into his, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a real kiss. For a minute, she felt like she had imagined his coolness; then he stood up quickly. "You'd better behave yourself, Ms. Hayes. Dr. Dale said no hanky-panky." His tone was teasing, but something was missing…
"David?" she said uncertainly as he made for the door.
He turned around. "Yeah?" he asked. In his eyes was an all-too-familiar look of wounded indignation. Where was this coming from? She felt her blood rise and prepared for battle. Then she remembered the doctor's other instruction. Do not get upset. Do not get upset, she counseled herself.
"Nothing," she said. "Good luck tonight."
But as he closed her door behind him, it hit her: he knew.
