Jess bit her lip and looked away as Diana peeled them off the rest of the way. When another contraction started, much more painful than before, she couldn’t help pulling up her legs and groan.
Diana looked back to the hospital entrance as if she’d rather flee than stay and help.
Jess could relate. If she could, she’d be out of here faster than she could say delivery. The reality of the situation hit her like a punch in the solar plexus and robbed her of her last breath. She was here with this resident, who wasn’t even an obstetrician. Alone. Giving birth to her child. Her daughter. What if something happened to her baby? She gasped.
Think, Jess. You’re a doctor too. What’s the best plan to keep her safe? No doubt, the safest place for her baby was her womb, and she needed to do anything she could to keep her daughter inside as long as possible. Delay until help arrives. Not a sophisticated plan but the best she could come up with now.
Diana nodded with determination. But as she lowered her gaze between Jess’s legs, she paled. “You need to push.”
Was she crazy? “I can’t. Not now. That’s not the plan.” Jess’s eyes filled with tears.
“Are you kidding me? Fuck your plan. We don’t have time for this. The head is crowning, and you need to push—now!” Despite her harsh words, Diana’s movements were gentle. She pulled Jess’s legs apart, holding eye contact all the time.
Jess wasn’t convinced that pushing was the best option, but she couldn’t come up with an alternative. Why hadn’t she prepared for such a scenario? She always prepared for every fucking thing.
“Listen.” Diana lowered her voice and squeezed Jess’s knee. “I’m sorry that the birth is not going as you planned, but your child seems to be as stubborn as you are. We can do this but only with your help. So when the next contraction comes, you push. Okay?” Her expression was confident as if she’d done this a thousand times.
Another contraction came, and Jess was out of time. “Fuck!” She screamed the word like a war cry and pushed.
“Yeah, fuck!” Diana screamed back as if they were charging into battle together.
Jess’s world reduced to a bloody fight, filled with pain, curses, and groans. She no longer knew or cared about the details. Her only clear thought was push, and so she did, until another cry pierced through the fog in her mind.
A shrill cry, full of anger at the unfairness of the world, full of need to belong, full of hope for a better future.
And when the crying bundle was placed in her arms, Jess’s pain evaporated in a surge of hormones and pure love.
Chapter Two
Lena leaned closer to study the curve of the new-formed leaf, and the sweet floral scent of the rose enveloped her like her grandma’s hugs. She hadn’t been the type to wear perfume but had always kept a few dried petals in her closet. Taking a deep breath as if she could store the scent, Lena smiled at the memory. She missed her every day. Grandma would have loved this garden.
After another glance at the flower, Lena focused on her sketchbook and added a few fine black lines.
“Beautiful. I love the detailed depiction of the petals and sepals.” Maggie’s voice came from directly behind her.
If her pen had been on the paper, Lena would have ruined the sketch. She hadn’t heard Maggie approach or noticed the rhythmic snipping of the garden shears had stopped. “Thank you. But what’s a sepal?” Not used to compliments, her face flushed, probably as pink as the rose.
“The small, green, leaf-like parts beneath the petals.” Maggie took a seat on the wooden chair next to the patch of grass Lena sat on. She removed her gardening gloves and wiped her forehead with a fabric handkerchief.
“Do you want some water or tea? I can get something from my kitchen.” Lena gestured to the garden house.
“Water would be lovely. But I can get it. If you don’t mind me rummaging around your kitchen.” She rose from the chair with an agility that belied her age.
“No, stay, please. I feel bad enough that you won’t let me help you with the gardening.” Lena secured her sketchbook closed with a wide band and tucked the pen into one of the loops on the elastic. She placed the book on the side table next to Maggie’s chair and hurried into the house.
It was just a few steps from front door to fridge, and she grabbed a large glass bottle she had filled earlier and left to chill. The fridge was pretty bare, but at the sight of the last bit of organic cheese, her stomach growled.
Had Maggie stopped for lunch? Probably not. She had been as immersed in her work as Lena.
Back outside, Lena placed two plates with cheese and apple slices on the small table and poured them both water. “Do you want something for the water? Mint?”
“Lemon balm, thanks.”
Maggie had planted dozens of different herbs in all parts of the garden, but Lena was sure she remembered where the lemon balm was hidden. She found it a few steps away and rubbed a leaf between her fingers to release the citrusy scent. She plucked a few leaves and held them up. “Is this enough for you?”
Maggie nodded her approval and took half of the leaves into her glass. “Melissa officinalis.”
Lena mentally repeated the name a few times. She’d sketch that one next and write down both names. “Is there anything I can help you with today? Carry something heavy?”
Smiling, Maggie shook her head. “I need to work to stay flexible. You have tai chi and youth on your side. I’m battling old age with the help of my plants.”
And the workout was certainly effective. Maggie had to be in her late sixties—judging by the soft, wrinkly skin and hair that was mostly gray-and-white with
