"Auntie Joan, I'm leaving now," Martin said hurriedly into the phone as he ran around his room getting dressed. The TIME had finally come, and he was, of course, taken a bit by surprise. It was the middle of the night, after all, which shouldn't really be a surprise. Babies were like that right? Louisa had called him now a half hour earlier certain that she was in labor. Her water hadn't broken, but from her description, it sounded like it was maybe leaking and about to break. He'd already called for a driver to take her to the hospital, and now, he had to get himself to London. No problem, right, for the well-known prominent physician, Martin Ellingham. Except, Martin hadn't banked on what a nervous wreck he currently was, fumbling around the bedroom like a buffoon. He'd long since packed his bag; Louisa was now overdue, almost 41 weeks. The plan had been for him to travel to London later in the week, Thursday, as her doctor planned to induce her Friday if there was no baby before then. Martin, having spoken to her doctor, was okay with this plan too, but here he was, Sunday night now, and his son was definitely on the way. He wanted to curse the doctor who had just seen Louisa on Friday and said there had been no changes, obviously, knowing it wasn't exactly the doctor's fault. Babies, after all, did have a mind of their own, and his son was already seemingly stubborn and marching to his own drum.
"Yes, yes, Auntie," Martin almost yelled into the phone. I'll be right over. "Yes," he nodded, as he hit his head on the nightstand while bending down to put on his shoes. He was a total mess, shirt partly buttoned, a dress shirt, of course. He was not putting on his tie, even though he felt incredibly naked without it. His suit coat was not up for debate; he was wearing it, but he knew that even with several hours in the car, he would still want to convey his professionalism. Thankfully, he had just fueled his vehicle earlier in the afternoon when he'd had an emergency house call.
"Marty, calm down and slow down. You and I both know these things take time. Heavens, Louisa is very capable to get herself to the hospital. I mean, what did you expect with you living here?"
"I don't want to argue! I expected that this would go according to the plan her doctor put out last Friday," he snapped.
He heard his aunt chuckle, "Yes, Marty, because for one, babies stick to a schedule like that, and two, of course, because your life with Louisa has gone as just planned."
Martin balanced the phone while he tied his shoes, and he brushed at his hair again, it still damp from his very quick shower. It was now 4 AM, and he had some driving to do before arriving in London. He hated that he would be hitting London with the morning traffic, but there wasn't anything he could do to change it. Driving would be faster than the train, and it would also allow him to have his vehicle there to get back and forth with Louisa.
Martin stood, and he finished his call with Joan. He was already starting to second guess their plan for her to travel with him. While he appreciated his aunt's interest, he also worried she would talk his ear off during the morning drive as she was already doing as he got ready to leave. He looked around his bedroom, taking note of anything he'd forgotten. Satisfied he had everything, he picked up his wallet and keys and put them in his pocket. He gave one final gaze, nodding to himself, almost unable to believe that the next time he returned here to his home in the village, he would be a father. Sadly, that would also mean he'd left his wife and son in London, but he was still working very hard to get to London permanently.
As Martin gathered his things, he found himself rushing and very quickly, his feet were sliding from under him, his bag was flying in the air, and he was tumbling down his staircase. He landed with a thud on top of his bag, and his face hit the side of the bag. He groaned in pain as he moved to stand. Blasted stairs. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen down them, and he was always rushing. He reached to his head, feeling at the sore spot; it would probably bruise, just his luck. As he stood, he winced in pain and moved to the stairs instead where he inspected his foot. Somehow, in the rush, his shoe had come off, and he realized that while talking to Joan, he'd been so distracted, he had only tied one shoe. The other now, was by the front door, and Martin was inspecting his toe for what he suspected was at least one, maybe two broken toes.
"Buggar," he cursed silently to himself, gingerly touching his two smallest toes. Yes, they did appear to be broken. He quickly pulled off his sock and saw that the toes were already bruising, which was never a good sigh. He sighed loudly, rolled his eyes, and he put his sock back on. Martin stood, again, wincing in pain, and he hobbled to the door to retrieve his shoe. Just great, a broken toe. That went splendidly with the day so far.
Martin cried out in pain as he shoved his shoe back on his foot. He didn't have time to deal with this right now, and it wasn't like there was a lot to be done with broken toes. To be honest, shoving them in his shoe and tightening it was not a bad thing, and now he would get to "enjoy" the throbbing pain all day. With that in mind, he quickly hobbled into his surgery office and retrieved some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.
Once he was put back together, he scribbled a note for Pauline. He had told her on Saturday that the surgery would be closed for a few days at the end of the week and the beginning of the following week. Now, he was just updating the dates, planning to be gone this entire week. He and Joan had devised a plan telling the villagers they had a family member in the hospital. Well, Joan had started to explain that and had gone so far as to say they were having surgery. He hated getting into details, but he also knew the village needed some explanation for his absence, their absence. Joan seemed to have everyone believing they were traveling for this surgery, and now, it just looked like the dates had changed.
Finally ready to go, albeit now in a great deal of pain with his apparent broken toes, Martin collected his bags that had scattered with the fall, moved outside, and he locked up the house. Pauline would be by in a few hours, and he'd call her from the car to go over instructions for the week. He also planned to call Chris, who was aware of the situation on a general level, but now, Martin would be calling his longtime friend and boss to inform him of the week's coming events. Martin had an almost smile on his face as he loaded his bags; he was going to be a father.
Martin raced through town, narrowly missing a few fishermen who were on their way out for the morning. He didn't wave back as they waved to him, focused only on one thing-getting to London as quickly as possible. He drove quickly out of the village, paying no attention to speed limits, and by the time he reached Joan's house, well, he was surprised she wasn't outside waiting for him. He'd been rather loud flying down her lane, and he also spun the car around stopping so quickly at her home.
"Auntie Joan, we need to get going," Martin flew into the house, putting aside the pain he felt in his foot. He saw her bags there by the door, and without waiting to hear from her, he quickly rushed them to the car. As he was stowing them, he looked up at movement and saw her locking up her door.
"Ahh, Marty, I was just using the lavoratory one last time," she said, smiling at him as she walked to the car. "I didn't think you would want to stop for anything on the drive."
He gave her a quick nod, "Yes, ahh, we don't have time for a leisurly drive."
"Right," she smiled again, walking toward him. He tilted his head wondering why she wasn't going around to get in on her side. She reached his side, patted his arm, and she leaned in to give him a hug. He stiffened at that. "Oh, Marty, I'm so happy for you, and I'm thrilled to be part of this. Now," she patted his arm and released the grip she had on him, "ready to go?"
He nodded to her, gesturing for her to move, "Yes, we need to hurry."
"What did you do to your head?" Joan asked, raising her hand to inspect it. Her motherly instincts for Martin were in high gear, and he let out a gasp as she touched at the tender spot.
"It's nothing," he waved her off and shook his head. He saw her cross her arms and remain rooted in the spot. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "I fell this morning, down the stairs. I hit my head and possibly broke two toes, well, likely broke them."
Joan's eyes widened, and she looked to his foot as she gestured, "Marty! My goodness! Are you hurt otherwise? Are you okay to drive? I will drive. You have to be careful! Louisa needs you; she needs you in one piece."
Martin waved his hand, "I'm fine, fine, just stupid broken toes," he said. He looked to her horrified for suggesting she drive, "I'm perfectly capable of driving, that is, if you will get into the car. Now, can we go?"
Joan shook her head and sighed, muttering under her breath as she walked around to get into the car. Martin ducked back into his seat and started the car, looking to Joan as she muttered.
"Stubborn mule, too stubborn for his own good," she said just enough for him to hear. He grunted at her.
"Are you finished, Auntie Joan? I'd like to get going," he told her.
"Yes," she said with a fake smile. "I'm so looking forward to the next several hours with you. At least I brought sandwiches."
He made a face, "Sandwiches? Joan, it's not even 5:00 in the morning."
She shrugged, "Cucumber sandwiches. It's what I had, and we will need some food in our system to greet this very long day. Now," she titled her head as he was ready to back away from the house. "Let's get you to your wife and son."
Martin spent the next few hours driving and making a number of phone calls, many to Louisa. Once he and Joan were on the road, he called her to see how she was progressing, both in getting to the hospital and also in her labor. She'd arrived at the hospital and was in a room, hooked up to the monitors. At his latest phone call, now three hours into the drive, her water had just broken, and she'd let several not-so-niceties slip from her vocabulary in referencing what Martin had "done to her." He'd taken everything in stride, and now, as they were still more than a couple hours away, especially with traffic, he was finally able to breath a little.
"Well, from the sounds of it, you've worked a full day without seeing a single patient," Joan chuckled. She nodded down to his foot, "Of course, it sounds like you need to be your own patient. How is your foot?"
"Fine," he said gruffly, waving it off. Truthfully, his toes were killing him. He eyed his aunt, and he sighed, seeing her giving him an eye. "Fine, my toes are killing me, but what am I really going to do about it, Auntie? My wife is in much more agony. I can deal with broken toes."
"I'm sorry about that, Marty. As I have offered, if you would like me to drive-"
"I'm fine," he said curtly. "It gives me something to focus on right now. I need that. I worry about Louisa, about the baby."
She looked to him and gestured, "Any reason to worry? I mean, women have been having babies."
"No," he shook his head and sighed. "I'm just not doing a very good job of this, this, this," he gestured wildly, "family thing. I'm failing miserably, and I hate this blasted setup we have. I don't like living apart from Louisa. This all got out of hand when I allowed our wedding in Portwenn to be called off. Had that not happened-"
"Had that not happened," Joan cut in, patting his arm as he fidgeted, "you might both be resenting each other and fighting a lot more. Marty," she said warmly as she looked to her nephew, "things happen for a reason. As hard as this all is, there is a reason for it. You want to get back to London, and well, Louisa did that. She wouldn't have done that if you had married here and stayed in the village. In its own way, she forced the move, and well," she shrugged, "the two of you ahh," she winked, "enjoying each other's company before the wedding, brought you two back together. You want London with Louisa and with the baby, yes?"
"Of course I do!" Martin exclaimed. "It's just that getting back to surgery is taking longer than I want."
"Yes," she nodded. "Good things are worth the wait. I heard you on the phone with your friend, Chris, earlier. He wants you to meet with someone in London this week? How will you manage that with a newborn?"
He looked to her to explain, "There's an opening coming up soon, nothing like I had. I was head of vascular, but this is well beneath that. Still," he nodded to himself, "it's something. Smaller hospital outskirts of London, but it would be much closer."
"Is it what you want?" Joan inquired, tilting her head. She looked to him awaiting an answer. He pursed his lips.
"It brings me several hours closer to Louisa. The commute would be brutal, maybe up to two hours each way because of its location, possibly a bit less with a combination of trains and such, but I would do it for her," he explained.
Joan nodded, and the two drifted into silence. Joan finally shifted and eyed him again, "I adore Louisa, and I've watched her grow up. I feel like I need to watch out for the two of you, but I have to ask-you are constantly bending to do whatever she would like, but my darling boy, what is she willing to do for you? You can't say the baby because she'd made it clear she would raise it alone if needed, but Marty," she patted his hand and gave him a sympathetic smile, "if I can offer any marriage advice and believe as your closest relative, I can, make sure your marriage is built on the two of you giving and taking, not just always one-sided, you doing whatever Louisa wants.
He looked to her, almost shocked she'd called him on that, and he nodded at her, "Yes, Auntie Joan, because I'm sure that Louisa just wants to be alone in a hospital now about to give birth to our son. We've been compromising."
"Maybe so," Joan shrugged, "Now, how about a cucumber sandwich?" Joan opened her travel container and offered one to Marty. He made a face, but he took the sandwich and started eating it, all the while, lost in his thoughts.
Louisa called them another hour later as they were approaching London. They were still an hour or so away, but there were now signs of city life everywhere he looked.
"Louisa!" Martin said quickly as he answered his phone. He had it hooked to the car, and with that, Joan could hear the call. "How are things?"
"Martin," she said between groans, and he could instantly hear she was in pain. She started to speak again and had to stop, obviously in pain. "The doctor was just in and-" she paused, and Martin knew this wasn't for dramatic effect.
"Yes, yes," he nodded, trying to help along the conversation. "How are you progressing?"
"Well, ahhhh," she said, and both he and Joan grimaced listening to her in such pain. "Sorry, Martin, but anyone who tells you labor is a blessed event is lying! This is awful."
"Have you had an epidural?" Martin asked.
"That's what I was calling about," Louisa told him. The two had discussed it, and Martin had left it to her. She'd decided that it would be a good idea to have one, and he'd fully supported her. He knew she didn't tolerate a lot of pain, and he also knew it would keep her from being totally exhausted.
"Louisa?" Martin asked when she stopped talking. He waited, and he looked to Joan.
"Sorry, that was another contraction. The thing is, Martin, that I was to get the epidural, but I'm moving too quickly. I'm already dilated too much. The doctor doesn't think I'll get it in time."
"In time!" Martin bellowed and looked to the time. "I'm still an hour away."
"Yes, yes, Martin," Louisa huffed. "I'll tell your son to take a nap to wait on his father's arrival," she grunted. "I'm doing the best I can."
"Right, right," he huffed. "I'm sorry. Joan and I are navigating London traffic."
"Louisa," Joan cut in. "Remember to breathe," she said sympathetically. "I'm sorry, but that's all I've got since I never had my own children. You are doing a great job, and Marty can't wait to see you. He even broke his foot getting to you."
"What?" Louisa yelled and then she screamed in agony with another contraction. Martin gave his aunt a look that could kill, and she shrugged. "Martin, you broke your foot?"
"No, ahh, toes, maybe, two of them," he added. "No need to worry. I'm fine. Nothing to do about it. I fell down the stairs at home. Let's focus on you, on, on James," he said. As soon as he said his son's name, he relaxed into a small smile.
"That's all I've been doing!" Louisa huffed through gritted teeth. "Martin, I have to go. This pain is awful."
"I'll be there soon," he said quickly before she hung up. Glancing briefly to his aunt, but not caring she would hear, he blurted out, "I love you, Louisa. I love you."
"Right now, Martin," she huffed, "I want to say I hate you." Joan chuckled hearing that and hearing the agony in Louisa's voice. Louisa continued, "I love you too. Just get here, please."
Martin sighed and drew into silence when he hung up with his wife. Joan reached over to pat his arm. She nodded to him.
"What?" Martin asked. "I told you I would be a terrible father. I can't even help my own wife who is in agony. Let's remember my actions put her into this agony."
Joan raised an eyebrow, "As a doctor, you are aware, it does take two people to create this ahh, situation," she winked. She patted his arm again, "We'll get there. Ruth should already be there."
Martin looked quickly to her, "Ruth?"
"Oh, Marty," Joan chuckled as she sighed. She gave him a glance, "She's family too, and yes, she was going to head to the hospital. You know Ruth-she won't want anything to do with the actual delivery, which I've always found odd since she is a doctor too, but she will be there to support you. We're family, Marty, and that's what family does."
Martin nodded, taking that in as he darted in and out of traffic. He sighed and sank his head back, trying to come to grips with this already chaotic day. He glanced to his aunt again, "Just to be clear-she's the only other family-"
"Oh good heavens!" Joan jumped in quickly, her eyes widening. "Marty, you know me better than that. As far as I'm concerned, you were orphaned many years ago. I've thought of you as my own son, so no, absolutely not, would I ever contact your horrid parents."
"Good," he said quickly and nodded. He looked over and waited to catch her gaze, "Ahh, Auntie Joan?"
"Yes, Marty?" Joan asked, turning to him.
"Thank you," he said with a quick nod.
"You're welcome," she reached over to pat his arm. "I can't wait to meet my great nephew."
"Ahh," he paused, and his cheeks reddened as he gestured, obviously trying to tell her something, "Louisa and I discussed your name."
"My name?" Joan asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Yes, yes," he nodded, still nervous. "Apparently, it's not standard anymore for women, family members, to be called grandmother." She continued to give him an odd gaze, and he started to gesture as he explained further. "Ahh, if it is alright with you," he said quietly, almost wanting to curse this intimate conversation that was making him so uncomfortable, "we do not have any plans for James to ever be in the presence of Mom and Dad."
"Yes," Joan drew out the word and nodded. "I think that is healthy. They did a number on you."
"Because of that, though, he needs a grandmother," he said, eyeing her. She titled her head at Martin, and he finally blurted it out.
"Louisa asked if I would like James to call you grandmother. I wasn't sure how you felt about it. She said there are alternatives, something like Nanny or Gammy." He made a face as he glanced to her, but as he did that, her eyes widened, and a bright smile crossed her face.
"Oh, Marty," she said, her eyes filling with tears as she leaned toward him to give him a small, side hug. "I'd be honored with any name. I'm just delighted to be this involved with you and your family."
"No preference at all?" Martin asked, slipping back to his professional tone, unaware that he'd just sent off a string of emotions in his aunt. She smiled brightly at him and chuckled.
"Well, I suppose I had never considered the idea, but I do love it," she almost giggled. She paused as she thought a moment, "I do fancy Gammy Joan," she shrugged as she grinned at him. "That is, I do like that if you are asking and of course, if Louisa agrees."
He pursed his lips and gave a single nod, "Louisa said you would prefer that one. It seems as if the two women closest to me in my life think rather alike."
Joan smiled brightly and looked to her nephew, "That shouldn't be a surprise, Marty. We both love you dearly. Now, let's get you to that hospital. I can't wait to tell Ruth about my new name."