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was not how she had planned the birth. This was supposed to be a joyous time. Having Brad’s baby was everything she’d dreamed of, but not being married left her with an emptiness that seemed more like a blemish on her soul.

Chapter 9
    Brad paced the hall at Grays Harbor Community Hospital, checking his cell phone messages, and didn’t miss the frown of the OB nurse as she wandered out of Emily’s labor room. On the way to the hospital, Brad had called his lawyer twice and gotten him out of bed, only to learn that he hadn’t been able to get a judge to sign the papers yet. Emily had heard, of course, and Brad didn’t miss the pain that shadowed her eyes. He knew she wanted this marriage badly.
    “Emily’s in labor; I need that signed now,” he told Keith.
    Keith answered, “Brad, I know how bad you want this. I’ll do what I can. I’ll be burning some bridges waking up a judge, but I’ll do it for you; you know I’ll do my best.”
    Brad then listened to the only message on his phone, which was from Jed: “The kids are sleeping, and Mom, Dad and Neil are on a flight now.”
    He phoned Keith once more, but the call went to voicemail. “Keith, Emily’s really progressing. She’s already 6 centimeters. Please tell me you’ve got good news...” Brad stopped talking as he felt a tap on the shoulder.
    “Sir, turn off your cell phone or we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” said the plump, blonde nurse. She was staring at Brad in a way that was all business, so he hung up.
    He raised his hands in surrender. “All shut off, done.”
    The woman seemed satisfied and strode back to the nurses’ station while Brad went back into Emily’s room. She was alone, curled up on her side and gripping the side rail, sucked into a contraction that seemed to go on and on. She didn’t hear him come up behind her.
    “It’s okay, Em, just breathe,” he said, rubbing her back. “You’re doing great.”
    Emily seemed to relax. The monitor to which she was hooked up showed the contraction tapering off. She rolled over. The head of the bed was raised up, so she was almost sitting. Sweat dampened her forehead and her hospital gown clung to her.
    As Brad wiped her forehead with a cloth, Emily gripped his wrist. “Brad, I…”
    He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I know, Em. It’s okay, we’ll get married right after.”
    Tears glistened Emily’s eyes. “It isn’t the same, you know.”
    Brad smiled. “I’ll make it right.” He said the words more for her benefit, but it didn’t ease the shadow of despair on her face.
    The door pushed open and a short, middle-aged woman with a tomboyish haircut and dark-rimmed glasses strode in. She was wearing tan slacks and a white shirt. “How are you doing, Emily?” asked Dr. Montgomery.
    Emily couldn’t answer. She rolled to her side as another contraction hit. Brad sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her lower back.
    “We’ll just wait until her contraction passes and then I want to examine her again,” said Dr. Montgomery.
    Brad was amazed how long the contraction lasted before it peaked and tapered off.
    Emily groaned and began to whimper. “Oh, it hurts.”
    “You’re doing great, honey,” he said, rubbing her arm that gripped the rail. He wondered for a moment if she’d bend it under the force of her grasp.
    She let out a deep breath. “Is it too late to ask for drugs?”
    “Sorry, Emily, you’ve come too far,” replied the doctor. “We only had a small window and it has now closed. You can do it. Okay, Emily, I need you to roll over on your back. I know it’s uncomfortable, but I need to examine you.”
    Brad helped Emily to move over, and then scooted down as the doctor lowered the head of the bed.
    “Okay, about seven centimeters. It won’t be too much longer.” The doctor patted her patient’s bare leg and raised the head of the bed again. “I know you’re tired Emily, but you really need to get up and walk around. Lying in bed is