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When I looked at my phone, it was a call from Doug. As soon as I answered, he said, “Birdie, Anthea’s in labor.”
“Where?”
“RWE Memorial.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I hung up and leapt to action, running to the kitchen. “Anthea’s having the baby!” I cried.
Mara got up. “What can I do? How can I help?”
I shook my head. I realized I had no idea what to do at a time like this. Would I get there and see a precious baby, or would it be hours of waiting? Did I need a book? A computer?
“I’ve got it,” I said, hurrying to grab my purse with my tablet and charger. That was close enough. “I’ll call you when there’s a baby!”
She clapped excitedly. “See you later, Auntie.”
The word brought a smile to my face, and I wore it all the way to the hospital. I couldn’t wait to see what my niece would look like. How Anthea and Doug would be as parents. I hoped my parents would be more affectionate and loving as grandparents than they had as parents. Baby-girl-to-be-named deserved it.
As soon as I got to the hospital, I parked and ran inside, looking for any sign of the maternity wing. A nurse pointed me to the third floor, and I rode the elevator up, eager to see what was happening.
When I reached the waiting room, I couldn’t see my parents, so I went to the nurses’ station and asked for Anthea Melrose.
“Three thirty,” she said.
I thanked her and looked at the plaques on the walls, following the numbers to the right room. I couldn’t hear screaming anywhere, like I’d expected in the maternity ward, but there were couples walking around, checking in, hushed noises behind closed doors.
The door to Anthea’s room was cracked, but I knocked anyway.
Doug’s face quickly appeared, and he pulled me into a hug.
“Hey,” I said gently. “How’s it going?”
He stepped aside, letting Anthea answer.
She had cords and monitors strapped all about her body, but despite the situation, she looked beautiful with curled hair and perfectly done makeup.
“My water broke at dinner with a client and her husband, so I’m absolutely mortified,” Anthea said. “I’m five centimeters dilated, my back hurts, and they haven’t given me an epidural yet. Does that answer your question?”
I chuckled softly, then covered my mouth. I didn’t want her to think I was being insensitive. “What can I do? How can I help?” I asked, echoing Mara earlier.
“I can’t eat,” Anthea huffed. “So nothing. But when this is all done, I want the greasiest cheeseburger and fries you can find.”
“You got it,” I said, going to her and sitting by the bed. “Is your mom or sister coming?”
Anthea rolled her eyes. “My labor interrupted their nail appointments. They’ll see me and the baby at the house when I’m ready.”
I nodded, twisting toward Doug. “Mom and Dad?”
“On their way.”
A funny thought crossed my mind. “Can you imagine them in the waiting room?”
Anthea snorted. “Your mom will have the décor updated and the coffee upgraded before the baby even gets here.”
“True,” I said, giving her a hug. “I know you’re going to do amazing.”
Doug said, “Do you mind if I duck out for a minute to use the bathroom?”
“There’s one here,” I pointed out.