Chapter 12 - EMMA WAS COMING
Everything we had practiced disappeared from my brain.
The breathing exercises.
The hospital route.
The checklist on the refrigerator.
I stood in the bedroom holding one shoe.
Anna stared at me.
"You need two."
"What?"
"Shoes."
I looked down.
She laughed.
Actually laughed.
It was the first laugh I had heard from her at two in the morning in months.
"I've got this."
"No."
She held the wall during a contraction.
"We've got this."
I grabbed the hospital bag.
The real hospital bag.
Then I noticed the emergency duffel still under the bed.
I stopped.
Anna followed my eyes.
"Leave it."
I looked at her.
She smiled faintly.
"I'm coming home."
Those three words meant more than she realized.
We drove through nearly empty streets.
The contractions were four minutes apart by the time we arrived.
The maternity staff moved quickly.
Anna was admitted.
I stayed beside her.
Every time she squeezed my hand, I reminded myself that this was what mattered.
Around 4:30, Rachel texted.
HOW IS SHE?
I stared at the screen.
We had agreed not to tell anyone labor had started.
Then I remembered that Rachel still had access to our shared family location app.
I disabled it months earlier.
Or I thought I had.
"Did you tell Rachel?"
Anna shook her head.
I called.
"How do you know we're at the hospital?"
Rachel sounded confused.
"I don't."
"You texted asking how Anna is."
"Because she's nine months pregnant and after everything that happened, I wanted to check."
I relaxed slightly.
Then Rachel said something that brought the tension back.
"Why?"
I looked at Anna.
"She's in labor."
"Oh my God."
"Rachel."
"I won't tell Mom."
"Don't tell anyone."
"I promise."
At 6:12, Anna was six centimeters dilated.
At 7:45, eight.
The doctor expected Emma before noon.
Then hospital security appeared at our doorway.
My stomach dropped.
"Mr. Lawson?"
"Yes."
"A woman identifying herself as your mother is downstairs."
Anna's heart monitor seemed suddenly louder.
I stood.
"How did she know?"
Security shook his head.
"She says she's family and wants access."
"She has a protective order involving my wife."
"We're aware."
The hospital had already been provided a copy.
"She's not coming up."
"No, sir."
Anna stared at me.
Her face had lost all color.
"Michael."
I took her hand.
"I'm not leaving you."
Security continued.
"She is refusing to leave the lobby."
My chest tightened.
"Call the police."
Anna looked at me.
Years ago, that sentence would have felt impossible.
Now it didn't.
The officer nodded.
"We already have."
Ten minutes later, my phone began vibrating.
Mom.
Blocked.
Another number.
Then another.
I turned the phone off.
Anna breathed through another contraction.
"I don't want her here."
"She won't get near you."
"What if she tries?"
"Then security stops her."
"What if they don't?"
I leaned closer.
"Then I do."
Anna searched my face.
I wasn't promising violence.
I was promising presence.
Something I should have given her months earlier.
At 8:03, security returned.
My mother had been escorted from the building.
May you like
But before leaving, she delivered one message.
She told security to tell me that I would regret keeping her away from her grandchild.
