Chapter 9
Liam
It’s my first day on the new job. I’m in the office, trying to get a handle on my patient list when the receptionist calls the nurse to the phone. A few minutes later, the nurse returns looking at me with a smile on her face.
“I know it’s not what you’re expecting, but your patient who’s due in three weeks is having her baby today.”
I push my lips forward, I was prepared for this delivery when I took over Dr. Manning’s caseload, but I assumed that the expectant mother and I would have a few appointments before I delivered her child.
“Is she sure she’s in labor? It’s not a false alarm?”
The nurse looks back at me, shaking her head. “This woman, Avery, is no-nonsense. For being a first-time mom, she sure has her act together. She comes to every appointment early. Has her paperwork always filled out, always asks the right questions. And never the annoying ones. She has dog-eared every page of that book, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. And besides all that, her water broke.”
I nod. If what the nurse is saying is true, this mother is going to have a baby by the end of the day.
“Well, I guess I’m going to jump in with both feet!” I tell her. “Can you send me an electronic copy of the file so I can review it when I get to the hospital?”.
“Already have, Doc,” she tells me.
I get my car and drive the ten minutes toward the Olympic Hospital. After parking in the doctor’s space, I go through the keyless entry and get myself ready to meet my patient.
All of this happened so fast. The moment I heard about Dr. Manning wanting to sell his practice I jumped on it. I spent a few weeks reviewing the cost analysis of his practice and determined that this was the right place for me.
And then I found that waterfront home. A home that is more beautiful and pristine than I could’ve ever purchased had I stayed living in Seattle. The property value here is unreal, I feel like I found a hidden gem that no one else seems to understand yet––no one except the people who already live on this peninsula.
I wash my hands three times and put on my doctor’s coat, wanting to look as professional as possible for meeting the mother-to-be who is probably terrified over the fact that the physician she’s had for her entire pregnancy won’t be attending her birth.
I haven’t set foot in this hospital by myself before, I’ve only been here once with Dr. Manning at my side as we toured the premises so I could get a feel for my new workplace.
Not that I will be delivering too many babies. As a family physician, I will mostly care for my patients at the clinic.
The hospital, of course, tried to lure me over to their side. Offered me a substantial package to become a surgeon for them. My expertise was unprecedented, but I didn’t want to be a surgeon anymore. I moved here to start a new life, a life where I would have opportunity. An opportunity to have a family of my own.
Running a family practice will give me the time I crave. I push the nagging thought that’s constantly on my mind away as I scan my iPad before entering the patient’s birthing room.
The nagging thought that maybe someday, somehow, I will find my wife-for-a-night and I will make her my bride.
My hand pats down my pocket feeling the gold band of the ring that rests there every damn day. Maybe I’m a fool, pining after a woman that clearly isn’t mine... But for now, I still can’t let her go.
“Oh, good, you’re here, doctor,” a nurse says sticking her head out of the birthing suite. “Her baby is coming, and it’s coming soon.”
I nod, taking on another glance at the patient’s chart.
She’s young, only twenty-three, her first pregnancy and first child. Then my eyes hover over another line, one I’m surprised Dr. Manning hadn’t pointed out earlier. Then again, he was so ready for his European vacation, he hardly gave me a proper hand-off.
This patient, Avery Sutton, suffered a brain injury nine months ago after she was hit by a car. Short-term memory lapse the night she conceived.
I focus on the words again, shocked at that reality, not even able to imagine how horrible it would have been for her. To wake up after an accident and not remember what happened. Then a few months later, finding out you were pregnant? It would shock you to your core.
There are worse things than having a baby, of course, but this is still an overwhelming reality.
The nurse calls me again, and I force my eyes away from the iPad, knowing that my sympathy for the patient will only help me be a better doctor for her today.
I push open the door and pull back the fabric screen separating her from me.
The patient’s head is bowed deep into her lap, she’s holding her belly, her knees splayed apart on the stirrups, and she’s screaming her head off. A woman holds her hand, encouraging her, but the patient is way past any sort of encouragement. She’s barreling down and she is ready. No breathing techniques are going to help her now. Now she needs to push.
She’s still bent over so I can’t get a look at her face, and her knuckles are white as she’s gripping the woman next to her’s hand. The nurse holds her knees, telling her to push on the count of three.
I pull on a pair of gloves and take my place at the end of the bed. She’s moaning through a contraction and my eyes flick to the heart rate monitor capturing each beat of the baby. The baby’s in no distress, and neither is the mother. Whatever hardship has come her way before this, at least now she is well. The baby is well. This delivery is going to go just fine.
I clear my throat and try to get her attention, she lifts her chin, her eyes meet mine before she starts to push again to expel the child.
“Avery, I’m Dr. Liam, I’m here to help ––”
And then I stop. Everything stops.
The room is still. My eyes lock on hers and she looks at me without any sense of recognition.
I blink, trying to comprehend what’s happening. How is this happening?
My heart beats fast, my hand starts to shake. The nurse looks at me confused and the woman my patient is with looks at me with annoyance.
“Doctor, isn’t it time for her to push?” the woman asks, but the words don’t matter.
All I can think about in this flash of a moment is that my Lolita is here and she is looking at me as if she’s never seen me before.
Her eyes are wide, the whites are full of fear, she is so scared.
“Dr. Liam?” she says. “I’m terrified.” Her hair is a mess on her forehead, but I remember her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow at the Four Seasons. I remember everything about her because I’ve been thinking about her every day for nine months straight.
Nine months where she hasn’t remembered my existence, and my heart breaks into a million pieces over the reality of what is happening.
She is having my child and she doesn’t even know who I am.
“I’m really scared,” she says. Her hands reach for her belly as if trying to understand what is inside of her, she looks up at me, her head falling back in exhaustion, but she hasn’t finished the job. “Doctor, I can’t do this. I can’t do this alone.”
The words shake me back to reality.
I’m the doctor. She is my patient.
And Avery is carrying my baby. She must be.
Nine months ago we met, she lost her memory. That’s why she never came to find me at the bar ... she never came because she didn’t remember who I was.
This is no mere coincidence. There are such things as accidents, sure––she was in a car crash after all.
But maybe our story is being told exactly as it was meant to be.
“Have you ever had oysters?” I ask.
She shakes her head, blinking, confused. The woman next to her looks at me as if an idiot. “Oysters?” she asks. “Why aren’t you telling her push?”
I ignore her, my eyes are on Avery. Avery is beautiful and perfect and I love her. I will love her for the rest of my life.
“Have you? I ask her again. “Have you ever had oysters?”
Avery looks at me confused. “Oysters? Doctor ... I don’t ... “
“If you’re scared right now, I think I may be able to help with that. You don’t want to bring your child in the world already stressed out, right?”
“No, I don’t. But, doctor, what do oysters have to do with anything?” She grimaces, clenching her jaw and barreling through another contraction. I press my fingers to her to see how dilated she is. She is ready, the baby is crowning. I run my finger over her opening, feeling the baby’s head.
I take a mirror from a nurse standing by and angle it so Avery can see.
“There, that is your baby’s head. See all the hair?”
She starts crying, but now has the motivation she needs to continue.
“Have you ever stayed at the Four Seasons?” I ask this time the nurse is looking at me equally confused.
“Doctor, is this the time to ––”
I raise a hand, cutting her off. “Avery, look at me.” I meet her gaze, my eyes locked so tightly on hers. Our baby is coming into this world, and I want her to know the father of her child is right here when it does. “Oysters. The Four Seasons. Think about it. Have you ever read the story of Lolita?”
At this Avery’s eyes flicker over me, and then she stops. She recognizes me. I know she does.
“How? What ... Who?”
Then her body tells her to stop thinking, to only push. Push. Push.
And she does. Her baby comes from within, entering the world with a cry.
Our baby.
“It’s a boy,” I announce.
A son.
Ignoring the nurses, I take our child and place it on Avery’s chest, she sobs, and I’m crying too.
I lean down, the blood of the birth on our child, but none of that matters.
I look at Avery, and she looks at me.
“Husband?” she asks in disbelief.