Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood (23 page)

“Man,” Win muttered. He took his foot off the gas pedal. “What do you want to do? Keep going or turn around now?”

“Turn around,” she answered. As soon as he flicked the blinker she thought better of it. “No, keep going. It’s David’s baby, too. We have to tell him. He’ll be heartbroken if he doesn’t even know.”

Win seemed to think that was a good answer. He got back into the left lane of the highway and pushed the speed. He was going eighty-five and Carmen wasn’t complaining.

The news shook her and sent her mind back to Bethesda to be with her mother. Carmen knew Christina was scared. She was probably in a lot of pain. “I was her labor coach,” Carmen murmured.

She
was
close to her mother. Underneath everything was that. It wasn’t just the good answer, it was true. How else could you explain how powerfully she felt her mother’s distress?

Her mother told her once that when you feel someone else’s pain and joy as powerfully as if it were your own, then you knew you really loved them. Right now Carmen knew she had the pain part right. The joy…well, she still had work to do on that.

Win expertly took the exit for Downingtown. Carmen focused her energies on the map. She was a good map reader. They had the cross streets and the car make and the license plate number. That would be enough information, they both hoped. God forbid David had parked in an underground garage or something.

The coordinates led them to a housing development. Carmen screamed when she saw the green Mercury. She screamed out the letters and numbers of the license plate. Win was laughing and yelling too. The two of them stormed the front door of the recently built clapboard house. Carmen fidgeted, trying to restrain herself from ringing the doorbell more than twice.

A woman appeared at the door. Carmen saw David behind her and immediately started waving and yelling. It was all a flurry after that. Carmen couldn’t remember who said what, but five minutes later, Carmen, Win, and David were speeding south toward Bethesda, Maryland.

“I forgot my rental car,” David muttered from the backseat, still whitish gray in the face.

“It’s okay. Somebody can take it back for you,” Carmen reassured him. She looked from Win, in the driver’s seat, to David. “By the way, David Breckman, this is Win—”

Was it possible that she didn’t know his last name? Here they’d run the gauntlet of emotions, he’d experienced everything with her from Valia’s friable ligaments to Katherine’s hockey helmet to her mother’s unexpected labor, and she really didn’t know even that? “Uh, what’s your last name?”

“Sawyer.”

“Win Sawyer,” she murmured.

“Thanks for your help, Win,” David said robotically. He was trying to call the hospital on Carmen’s cell phone. Her battery was almost gone.

“What’s yours?” Win asked her. They were in their own world.

“Lowell.”

“How do you do, Carmen Lowell?”

She smiled at him gratefully. “Ask me later.”

By Baltimore, they were flying down 95 at just as many miles per hour. Carmen was incensed when a siren started blaring behind them. Win groaned.

“Oh, you’re joking,” Carmen said.

Win pulled onto the shoulder. Carmen opened her door.

“Carmen, no!” Both Win and David were yelling at her. “You’re not supposed to get out of the car!”

Suddenly a policeman was yelling at her over his bullhorn. It made her angrier. She slammed the door and crossed her arms over her chest.

“My mother is in the hospital about to have a baby without her husband, and you are holding us up!” She practically exploded.

After an impassioned chat with the policeman, Carmen got back in the car.

Win looked a bit shell-shocked. He and David both looked defeated, as though expecting tickets and fines of hundreds of dollars and also to go to jail.

“He said he was sorry,” Carmen reported instead. “Go ahead.”

“What?”
both Win and David yelled at her.

“Win, go!” she said. And Win obliged. “He offered us an escort but I said no,” Carmen continued once they’d gotten back up to speed. “I told him no, but please radio ahead to his fellow cops and tell them to leave us alone.”

Win was trying to hold back his smile. Carmen couldn’t think about whether she was being Good Carmen or not. She couldn’t keep track anymore.

David was shaking his head. “Win, this girl is a force of nature.”

Win cast a sideways look at Carmen. “I’m getting that impression.”

“We need some help here.” Lauren and Minerva, the labor and delivery nurse, had pulled Tibby aside. “I’m not getting through to her,” Lauren added. Like Tibby didn’t know that.

Aren’t you the professionals?
Tibby felt like screaming at them.
Aren’t you supposed to know how this goes? I’m seventeen! I’m not even supposed to be here!

Minerva cleared her throat. She was a stocky Filipina. “This isn’t a medical issue. It’s an emotional issue. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“You mean Christina is freaking because her husband isn’t here?” Tibby asked impatiently. She was tired. She was scared.

“Yes,” Lauren said. “And she doesn’t want to let the baby go. She’s gotta release it, she’s gotta make the leap. We need to help her so she feels safe.”

Tibby knew a thing or two about leaps. She turned and strode back to Christina. She felt like a soldier going back into battle. She’d already done the sensible thing of putting a pair of hospital scrubs over the Traveling Pants, which she still wore from the night before. She prayed they would bring Christina some of their magic by association, but she wasn’t crazy enough to leave unwashable Pants uncovered in such a circumstance.

Christina was fighting. And all in a rush, she reminded Tibby powerfully of her daughter. Like Carmen, Christina was a fighter, all right, and also like her daughter, she was fighting to total destruction.

Tibby got on the bed. She held Christina by her shoulders. Inside herself, Tibby made Christina a promise.
If you leap, I will. We’ll do it together.

Tibby could be a fighter too. At least, she could try. She propped Christina up on her pillows. She held Christina’s face between her hands.

“Tina. I know it’s hard. You don’t want to let go. I know how it feels. I mean, not having a baby. Obviously I haven’t had a baby, but—” Okay, she was getting off track.

To her amazement, she saw a look of mirth flit through Christina’s eyes. Here and then gone. If Christina could even consider laughing at Tibby, then maybe they were in business.

“David and Carmen are coming. And they want to see this baby so bad. And the baby wants to come out, so you gotta do it.” Tibby figured she would just talk. Christina was listening to her now. Her body was shaking from head to toe, but she was listening.

Lauren and Minerva had their latex gloves on. They were positioning themselves at the foot of the bed for the main attraction. Christina allowed them to pull her onto her back. Her knees were bent. She was in position.

Christina let out a whimper. She was bearing down, crumpling up her face.

“Let go! You can do it! I know you can. You’re Carmen’s mom, right? You can do anything! Right?”

“Tell her to push,” Lauren muttered. “She needs to push or we’re all in trouble here.”

“Tina, push!” Tibby said it so loud she felt her eyeballs rattling. “You can do it! Get that baby out of there, would you?” Tibby didn’t even care what she was saying, because Christina was listening.

Christina was clinging to Tibby now, holding her tight around her neck, looking for strength. It made Tibby feel strong. “You know how much we love you! You know how happy David is going to be to see this baby! Just picture Carmen’s face!”

Tibby was just as hysterical as Christina, but Christina was pushing now, and both Lauren and Minerva looked nearly delirious with relief.

“Tibby, I’m pushing!” Christina whimpered.

“You are! You are unbelievable! You are a star! You are the hero! You are the bomb!” Tibby was shouting; she was beyond herself. Somewhere back there was self-consciousness, and here, right up here, was she.

“Tibby!” Christina cried. She was getting some control now.

Tibby kept right on yelling and screaming, the dumbest, silliest things. She wasn’t even listening to herself anymore.

Contractions came, and with each came a push. Minerva and Lauren were shouting their encouragement too, but the world had shrunken to just the two of them—Tibby and Christina, a funny pairing most every other day of the year.

Christina kept her eyes fixed on Tibby’s, on Tibby’s very pupils, and Tibby did not blink. As long as she could keep Christina right there with her, she could make a difference.

“I see the baby’s head! I feel it!” Lauren shouted.

“Oh, my God. Did you hear that!” Tibby thundered. “She can feel the baby’s head!”

Christina smiled a real honest-to-God smile.

“The baby is right there.
Right there!
” Tibby was beside herself. She had Christina’s shoulders in her hands, then her face. “You got it! You know that?”

“I got it!” Christina cried. She was coming to life.

“I feel it,” Lauren said. “I feel the hair.”

“Tina, your baby has hair!” Tibby screamed. “Can you believe it?”

Christina looked like she liked the idea of a baby with hair. “Carmen had hair,” she said faintly, “when she was born.”

“Well, lucky thing, that is. I love hair. Hair is great!” Tibby was giddy now. She pushed long, sweaty strands of Christina’s hair off of her neck.

“One more push, and this head is out,” Lauren said. She left Tibby to her own insane translation.

“Tina, one more big one! Biggie. Big big big push. Don’t you want to meet your baby?”

Christina went all out. She screamed bloody murder. Her face turned dark purple.

“And…it’s…a…baby!” Lauren shouted.

One more gigantic push and the rest of the baby followed the head. Tibby was afraid to look down, because it was all pretty damn gory. But Lauren raised this wriggling, slimy, purple little body up.

Tibby could barely breathe. The baby waved its hands and let out a cry. It was a very tiny person, a real person, who had hands to wave and a cry to cry.

Lauren landed the purple body on Christina’s chest and Christina sobbed. She held her baby and cried. Tibby watched in wonder and cried too.

The professionals did their professional stuff between Christina’s legs. Then they cut the cord, weighed the baby, and did a few other medical things. Then the baby, now more pink than purple, arrived back in Christina’s arms.

Christina held the baby to her breast, and Tibby knew it was done. Christina’s little world remained at two, but the second one wasn’t Tibby anymore. That was as it should be, sad and happy at once.

Slowly Tibby unfolded her limbs and climbed off the bed. She wanted to leave quietly, to let Christina have her unadulterated joy.

But before she did, she planted a kiss on Christina’s head. “You kicked ass,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the wording of a Hallmark card, but it did express her true feelings.

Near the door, she bumped into Lauren, bustling about. Lauren paused. “Tibby, you have an unorthodox coaching style, but it is very effective. Would you be available for future labors?” Lauren was half laughing, but Tibby could see she’d been crying too. She was wiped out.

“No way.” Tibby stopped. She needed to know something. It felt important, like her future suddenly hung on the answer. “Hey, Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you get used to this? I mean, haven’t you done it hundreds of times?”

Lauren pushed her hair behind her ears. Her purple liner was smudged. Her face was shiny with sweat. “Yes.” She looked at her hands. “But no. It’s a miracle. It’s different every single time.”

To love another person is to see the face of God.
—Victor Hugo

T
he three of them, Carmen, David, and Win, crashed into labor and delivery with such speed and force you would have thought they were each having a baby of their own.

Tibby’s was the first familiar face they saw. She was wearing hospital scrubs with a lot of scary-looking stains, standing in the hall with a bewildered expression. As soon as she saw Carmen she burst into tears. “You have a baby!” she screamed.

“We do?”

“Oh, my God.”

David was darting around, trying to find Christina.

“Over here!” Tibby grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a room.

It was a hospital room and, of course, it featured a bed. The bed featured a flushed woman in a pale pink gown, and she in turn featured a tiny, blanket-wadded bundle topped by a knit hat the size of a tennis sock.

Carmen was surrounded by shouts and yells and exclamations of surprise and joy, so many and so voluble that she couldn’t tell which one came from whom—not even if it came from her own throat. She let David beat her to the bed, but she was a fast second. With expansive arms she pressed herself on her mother and this baby and even David. Christina was laughing and sobbing, and Carmen felt her own breaths coming out in those same general types of contortions.

“We have a baby!” David pulled away a few inches to try to get a grasp on the situation. “Right?”

Christina was the madonna now, calm and wise. She laughed at his tortured face. “Yes, this one is ours.”

Tears were coursing down David’s face. He needed to make sure of Christina before he grappled with the idea of this baby of his. “Christina, I am so sorry—I don’t know how—”

Christina pressed her hand to his face. “Don’t say anything else about that. I had Tibby. We have a beautiful, healthy baby.” She looked at Carmen. “You too,
nena.
Right now I have everything on the earth that I want.”

With trepidation Carmen and David both peered at the tiny thing.

“Do you want to know what it is?” Christina asked.

Carmen was so overwhelmed, she’d forgotten about that whole issue. That had mattered to her once, hadn’t it?

“It’s a boy,” Christina said joyfully.

“Oh!” Carmen let out another scream, but she thoughtfully directed it away from her mother’s ear. “We have a boy!”