“Ohhhhh,” I said. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll just be quiet.”
She went back to breathing/staring and I stood there silently like an idiot. This went on for some time. And then Dr. Wilson walked in the room, her eyes down on the chart she was holding. “I hear there’s a baby ready to be born in here—oh, hi, Riley!”
Dr. Wilson was an old friend of the family and had been my gynecologist since my mother first took me to see her at the age of seventeen. She was a lovely woman, but I always felt a little weird when I saw her in social situations. Probably because most of our conversations took place with my feet in stirrups.
A second later Ryan flew into the room. “How is she?” He seemed to be addressing Dr. Wilson, but before waiting for an answer, he looked at Ridley. “How are you?” Then his face swiveled back to Dr. Wilson. “Is the baby okay?” Then back to Ridley. “What do you need? What I can do?” He was panting and his cheeks had taken on the muddy red color they used to get in summertime when we’d go rollerblading through the park.
Dr. Wilson put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Just relax, she’s fine. Everything is fine. Baby looks good, a little early, but that’s not abnormal. We’re going to continue to monitor his or her heart rate as Mom progresses, but there’s no reason for concern.”
Ryan ran a hand though his hair and exhaled loudly, and only then did he look my direction. “Thanks for getting her here so fast, Riles.”
Ridley, still meditating or whatever, barely acknowledged Ryan when he came in. She was deep in the throws of concentration, like a warrior. It was actually super impressive and made me think that maybe I should learn to meditate.
Dr. Wilson turned to Ryan and me and said, “I’m going to need to check her, so if you guys could give us some privacy . . .”
We stepped into the hallway. Ryan was still breathless from his run to the room, and I could see he was sweating a little, though I suspected that was more from nerves than anything else. He leaned against the wall and looked like he might collapse under the stress of the moment.
“They’re going to be fine,” I said. “Dr. Wilson says everything is okay.”
He turned to me and I knew in that moment that his fears had nothing to do with Ridley or the baby. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about them, but I could see the worry on his face was of a more personal sort. He was afraid he wasn’t up to this challenge. Ryan was rarely a victim of self-doubt; it was one of the things that had drawn me to him all those years ago. But standing in that hallway on the precipice of becoming someone’s father, I could see that insecurity consumed him.
Without any words of wisdom to offer, I did the only thing I could think to do: I pulled him into a hug. The ferocity with which he hugged me back surprised me, and I held him tight in return. He buried his face in my hair and clung to me like a baby koala.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” I said, allowing him his moment of self-absorbed fear.
“What if it’s not?” he said, pulling back. “What if I can’t do this?”
“Ryan,” I said. Moment over. “Stop it. You are about to become a father, but that woman in there,” I pointed toward the room, “is about to give birth. I’m sorry—but who cares about you right now? Take a deep breath, splash some water on your face, and get it together. You need to be there for her right now. Got it? This isn’t about just you anymore.”
He looked surprised at first, and then a second later, he nodded. “You’re right. How do you always know exactly the right thing to say to me?”
“Because it’s almost always ‘Get over yourself.’” I smiled at him.
When we were together, that had been our dynamic. He was the crazy one always flying off into the stratosphere and I was the levelheaded one who brought him back to earth. It had been nearly a year since we’d been together, but we fell back into the old pattern instantly. It worried me how comfortable it felt.
“Ryan,” Dr. Wilson popped her head into the hallway. “She’s asking for you.”
He looked back at me. “Wish me luck . . .” And then he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. This was a big moment for him—for them—and I was proud of him for showing up despite his fears. Not that I had any doubt that he would.
My feelings for Ryan spanned every color in the rainbow, and odd as it was, my feelings for Ridley were fairly complicated as well. But in that moment, I was genuinely excited for them both. They were about to bring another life into this world. The enormity of that swept over me and it seemed impossible that this sort of thing had happened every minute of every day since the beginning of time. It was one of those moments, like standing under the stars on a clear night, when the weight of your insignificance folds around you, in equal parts comforting and depressing.
I walked toward the elevators and saw Mr. and Mrs. Sanford checking in at the nurses station. I didn’t want them to see me. I didn’t belong here, and seeing me would be awkward for us all, so I found the nearest exit marked STAIRS and pushed it open.
The maternity ward was on the third floor, and it didn’t take long for me to get down to the main level. It was close to midnight and the hospital lobby was nearly empty. All the shops and offices were closed and locked. I walked quickly out of the building, thinking it was a
