After a silent lunch sittingacross from one another, we head back to count and sort fish. Anhour before our shift ends, I feel a vibration in my pocket.
Pulling my one hand out of myglove, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. One missedcall. I scroll down and see that it was Annie.
She knows how difficult it isfor me to talk when I’m working. She never calls me until I’m done.I hope to God it’s not because of Denny. I take a huge breath andredial her. Feeling my anxiety heighten, I take off my other gloveand pull a smoke out of my pocket, glancing around for the bossbefore I light it.
Annie answers. She’s out ofbreath.
“Hey babe, you called?” I say,trying to sound normal.
“Jade. I’m on the ferry. Istarted bleeding right after you left. I thought if I lay down andtook it easy, it would stop, but it hasn’t. It’s just gottenworse.”
What does this mean? Herbaby…our baby. And Annie—what if she bleeds to death or something?Can that happen? My heart races so hard that I feel thumping on mytongue.
“Jade, are you there?”
With my body frozen like astatue, I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.
“Dammit, Jade, saysomething.”
I quickly shake my head andmanage to ask if she has someone driving her.
“Who the hell would be drivingme? Stinky? Of course, no one’s driving me. I’m in my car on theferry. I need you to meet me at the hospital, okay?”
“Okay.”
She hangs up.
My arms and legs feel heavy andslow as I walk towards the office. “Jade, where ya goin’?” Timcalls after me. “We’re not done yet.”
I don’t answer him, not becauseI’m still pissed at him, but because I have no idea what to say.All I can think about is Annie and what Robbie has done to her.
After I grab my keys out of mylocker, I look around for my boss, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Ileave without telling him. I’ll have to call him from the hospitalonce I know what’s going on.
After fumbling around, I finallyget the key in the ignition and start the truck. Just as I put itin gear, there’s a rap at my window. It’s Tim, and he motions forme to roll it down. I comply. “Jade, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Annie. She’s going to thehospital. I have to go.”
“Move over, I’ll drive you.You’re white as hell and you look freaked out.”
I shake my head and then speedout of the lot.
Lighting another smoke, I slidemy phone out of my pocket and call Annie. She answers on the thirdring and tells me that the ferry is disembarking and that she can’ttalk. Next, I ask Siri to direct me to the hospital. She tells methat I’m thirty minutes away. It can’t be that far. No way. Nottoday. I step on the gas and speed down the shiny damp narrowroad.
After passing every vehicle thatI come up behind, I’m at the highway junction. Still, Siri says thehospital is twenty-minutes farther. I hit the gas and my back tiresfishtail onto the highway. A horn blare behind me, which I barelyregister.
It starts raining with avengeance. I switch on the wipers but at full speed, they’re barelyadequate. Sheets of water flow over the windshield. Still, I don’tlet up on the gas. Annie. My Annie. I can’t cope if anythinghappens to you. I need you so badly. Tears fill my eyes, making iteven more difficult to see.
Finally, I see a sign on theroad with an arrow and an H. I follow the prompts around a hairpincorner and then onto a two-lane side road. When the brown brickbuilding appears, I drive to the emergency entrance, park my truckand then run inside. When I see a nurse, I tell her that my spouseis here and I need to know which room.
The nurse walks behind thecounter and starts typing on the computer. “What’s your husband’sname?”’
“Annie. My wife’s name is AnnieBanks.” The assumption, as it always does, gives me a stab ofirritation. “Look, my wife is pregnant and she is bleeding. I don’tknow any more than that. I just want you to take me to her.”
Finally, the nurse stops tickingat the keys. “Yes, Annie Banks. She’s on maternity.” She directs meto a bank of elevators and then tells me to follow the colored lineto the ward.
As soon as the doors open, I seea woman hanging on to an I.V pole and slowly scuffling down thehall. There are deep moans and sounds coming from the doors I walkpast on my way to the nurses’ station. There I wait, my nailstapping nervously on the counter.
It’s only a couple of minutesbefore a portly older nurse in pink scrubs walks behind thecounter. After I tell her my name, she asks me to follow her. Wewalk to the room at the end of the hall.
As soon as we walk in, I seeAnnie curled up on her side with a pillow in front of her. Shelooks so tiny on the glaringly white bed. As soon as she sees me,she starts to cry. She sits up and holds out her arms. I sit on thebed and I embrace her, stroking her hair, which is damp with sweat.“What’s happening, my love?” I ask, fighting back tears. “Are yougoing to be okay?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffs.“They got me in here so fast. Usually they make you wait hours, butthey got me in right away. I don’t know what that means.”
“They probably do that for allpregnant women, Annie. It doesn’t mean anything.” I’m not suremyself, but the words sound good.
“They ran some tests. I’mwaiting to see what’s going on.”
“Everything is going to beokay.”
“I couldn’t bear to lose thisbaby.”
I couldn’t bear to lose you, Ifeel like saying, but I realise how that sounds. Like I don’t careabout the unborn
