Casanova(95)

“Not necessarily. Bring her to the ER and they’ll take you through to Labor and Delivery for monitoring. I’ll call through to let them know to expect you. How far away are you?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“I’ll call them now. And, Ms. Montana?”

“Yes?”

“Advise your sister we’re bringing her in for monitoring related to dehydration and to bring down her fever. It’s best for both her and baby that she doesn’t get any more stressed than she already is.”

“No problem. Thank you.” I hung up and pressed the phone screen to my face.

My stomach flipped and tied itself into knots. Connie wasn’t ready to have the baby. It couldn’t be early labor. I wouldn’t let it be.

Like I had any control over it.

I could control what happened now though.

I put Connie’s phone down on the side and went back upstairs. “Con? We’re gonna go to the hospital, okay?” I said, pausing in the doorway.

“What? Why? Is it bad?”

“No, no.” The lie was bitter on my tongue. “The nurse said to take you in for monitoring because you’re dehydrated. They can fix this, okay?”

“Okay.” She sat right up and swung her legs over the bed. I helped her into some sweats, flip flops, and draped a light sweater around her shoulders.

She sat on the edge of the bed while I grabbed a few things. Thankfully, she didn’t notice when I ran into the baby’s room and grabbed some diapers and clothes.

I doubted any would fit if we had the worst case scenario, but I felt better knowing they were at the bottom of the bag.

“Why the bag?” Connie asked when I helped her stand.

“Just in case you’re in overnight,” I explained, guiding her toward the stairs.

She stopped at the top and took a deep breath in, touching her hand to her stomach. A few seconds later, she relaxed. But that didn’t stop her looking at me while she fought back tears. “Lani?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything is gonna be okay, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, of course.” That tasted worse than bitter.

She let go of a long breath. “You promise?”

My heart sunk as I looked at her. I wanted to. I wanted to promise that to her so badly, but I couldn’t.

So I didn’t.

“Come on,” I said quietly. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Her voice was barely a whisper when she replied, “Okay.”





One hour later, Connie had been admitted for thirty minutes and I heard the words I didn’t want to hear.

Early labor.

My sister was in labor. Twelve weeks early.

“Can you stop it?” I asked her doctor. She’d changed her schedule to be here for my sister, and I was so grateful for that.

“We can try.” Her answer was straight to the point. I was grateful for that too. She turned to Connie. “We’re going to give you a dose of Magnesium Sulphate in your IV. Now, this isn’t ideal, because it might cause you more nausea, but it might not be so bad since you’ve already had some anti-nausea. We’ll also give you some injections to help the baby’s lungs and brain mature just in case the IV doesn’t work.” She took Connie’s hand. “The good news is that your waters are still intact, and you’re only three centimeters dilated right now. You made the right choice calling when you did,” she added, turning to me. “You may have kept your niece where she needs to be a little longer, and her fever has now gone.”

“What if she doesn’t stay in there?” Connie asked, her voice breaking. “What if she comes now?”

“She’s a good size,” Dr. Gordon told her, patting her hand. “The Corticosteriod injections will help her even more. The NICU here is very good. But I need you not to think about that, Connie. I need you to try to sleep and let the medicines do their work while we wait for the results of your urine and blood tests. Hopefully we’ll find out why you’re here.”

Connie nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Do you need to use the phone to call anyone?” Dr. Gordon said to me. “Your parents? Anyone?”

“Thanks, but it’s okay. I can call our parents when we know exactly what’s happening. They’re not in town.”

She nodded. “Just you still?” she asked Connie.

“Just me.” My sister smiled.

“And me.” I reached over and brushed my fingers across her bump. “Not just you.”

Tears filled her eyes, and I kissed her hand.

Dr. Gordon left us.

Connie turned to me. “I have to tell you. About Emery’s dad.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I haven’t told anybody because he doesn’t care,” she said quietly. “We met last summer. He was here with friends, and since he was studying in Orlando, he came to see me a few times. He stopped when I told him I was pregnant. He finished school last December, and when I texted him and told him she was a girl, he told me I had the wrong number.”

“Could you have?”

“No. It was the same number he’d called me on before.” She smiled sadly. “I was ashamed and that’s why I haven’t told anyone. Only Grandma knew, but she could get the origins of the universe out of a hunk of granite.”