Ann Mayburn - Sodom and the Phoenix

Sorrow flashed through her eyes, but her laughter held a brittle edge that cut at his heart. “God, we had some fun together, Bryan, no big deal. It’s not like I expected anything more from our time together than that. I mean, we don’t even live in the same state.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it.” He sat up, and she averted her eyes from his body as his phone continued to ring. “You don’t want to give anything that might hurt you a chance. You want to keep your feelings all sealed off from the rest of the world and never let anyone else in. Yeah, you got hurt from your divorce, shit happens. Everyone gets hurt. But you have to decide if you’re going to lick your wounds by yourself for the rest of your life or give someone else a chance, someone who deserves a woman like you, someone who would treat her right.”

Tears filled her eyes, and her breath hitched in her chest. “You have no right to say that to me.” Her mouth firmed, and she threw her shoulders back. “You should be one to talk about licking wounds. I’ve heard about all the women you’ve gone through since your wife’s passing. I may not be a psychologist, but it sounds to me like you haven’t been the poster boy for moving on. And as far as treating me right, I have no interest in being another woman who is foolish enough to believe you’re ready for anything other than a fling. How many hearts have you broken over the past few years, Bryan?”

Her words hit him like a slap in the face, and he flinched. The annoying trill of the cell phone rang again through the air, and he grabbed his pants off the floor. Snapping open the phone, he yelled into it, “What!”

Greg spoke in a rush. “Is Tanwen with you?”

He glanced at Tanwen as she tried to make her ruined top stay in place, and said in a bitter voice, “Yeah, but not for long.”

“She’s a nurse, right?”

“Yeah, Tanwen’s a nurse.”

Tanwen stopped fiddling with her shirt and looked up, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. “What’s up?”

A woman’s low, pain-filled moan came from over the phone, and Bryan froze. Greg made a soothing sound, then said, “I need Tanwen to come to our room right away. Margo’s gone into hard labor, and we’re not sure if the paramedics are going to make it in time.”

Bryan knocked on the door, and a very worried-looking Greg opened it and ushered them in. A deep groan came from the bedroom off the sitting area of the suite. Greg, dressed only in pajama pants, practically sprinted back to the bedroom with Tanwen and Bryan in tow. With her shirt ruined, Tanwen wore one of Bryan’s and couldn’t help but notice how the soft T-shirt smelled like him. That only made her heart ache more, but she shoved her personal issues to the side as they reached the bedroom. Tanwen and Bryan exchanged a weighted look, and he said in a low voice, “Let Greg know I’ll be in my hotel room if he needs me.”

Tanwen tried to swallow past the lump in her throat and nodded. He left without another word or glance in her direction. Her heart ached even as she mentally yelled at herself that this was for the best. Voices came from the bedroom off the sitting area, and Tanwen locked down her mind, focusing on Margo with the iron will that served her well as a nurse. Margo needed her. Tanwen and her worries went away. Her mind focused on making sure both the mother and the baby had everything they needed.

A brass lamp illuminated the bedroom, and she stepped over a pair of shoes by the doorway. A quick glance at her watch showed dawn was still hours away. Detroit glittered like a million Christmas lights beyond the window. Maybe Margo could use that as a focal point to help her get through the contractions. Dressed in a long pink nightgown, Margo lay on her side and fisted her hands into the sapphire blue comforter. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to take in a smooth breath, and as she blew it out, she moaned.

Greg squatted next to Margo and began to rub her lower back. “Honey, Tanwen’s here.”

“Harder,” Margo said with her eyes tightly shut.

Tanwen took Greg’s place as he clambered onto the bed and did as Margo asked. Once he was out of sight of his wife, worry filled his face as he began to massage her again.

“Harder,” Margo said in a tense voice.

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“I don’t care if you put your motherfucking hand through my spine, do it harder!”

Tanwen noticed a man’s wristwatch on the table next to the bed. “Greg, does this have a timer?”

He nodded. “Yeah, hit the button on the side.”

She set it and put it on the nightstand near Margo’s head so she could time the contractions. “Back labor?”

Margo grunted as Greg pressed on her spine. “Yeah.”

“This is your third child, correct?” Both Greg and Margo nodded. “How long were your other labors?”

“First baby I was in labor for four hours and pushed for two. Second baby three hours and pushed for one.” Her full lips ghosted into a smile. “Don’t suppose you happen to have an epidural with you?”

“Nope. How far apart are your contractions?”

“About every four to five minutes,” Greg said, his shoulders flexing as he continued to rub Margo’s back.

“Okay. I’m going to wash up and then we’ll check your cervix.” Margo’s face scrunched up in pain, and Tanwen knew she wasn’t going to be able to pay attention to her while she was having a contraction. With Margo’s history of quick labors, Tanwen worried about the baby coming before they had a chance to get her to the hospital. “Greg, how long ago did you call the paramedics?”

“Right before I called you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m not hurting the baby by rubbing on her back, am I?”

Tanwen hit the light switch in the bathroom with her elbow and turned on the faucet, getting the water as hot as she could stand. “No. I think the baby is sunny-side up, meaning the baby’s spine is pushing into Margo’s spine, so with every contraction, the hard bones of the baby’s back are pressing against the inner nerves of her spine.”

“Fuck,” Greg said in an unsteady voice.

The soap foamed up to her elbows as she scrubbed up. “After I check her, we’ll try some different positions to get some of the pressure off her back.” Tanwen patted her hands dry and grabbed a couple of towels before heading back into the bedroom.

Greg helped Margo scoot her nightgown up around her hips while Tanwen laid a towel beneath Margo’s bottom. “Ready?”

Margo nodded and slowed her breathing as Tanwen checked her as gently as she could. “You’re about six centimeters with a bulging bag. I think the paramedics will make it here in time. Everything is going to be all right, and you are doing a wonderful job. I’m so proud of you.”

Margo blinked back tears, and Greg let out a relieved breath as Tanwen went into the bathroom again to wash up. As she dried her hands, she watched the way Margo looked up at her husband, complete trust and love suffusing her face as he stroked her hair and whispered something to her. Once, her ex-husband had looked at her like that, but those days seemed like another lifetime.

The tension she’d been carrying since she left Bryan’s room churned in her stomach. During the silent ride up the elevator to Margo’s room, she’d wanted to reach out and grab Bryan’s hand and tell him she wanted to stay the night with him, but judging by the coldness in his eyes and the way he held himself away from her, she was pretty sure that chance was gone.

Margo and Greg’s voices came from the bedroom in a low murmur, and she stayed in the bathroom, wanting to give them a moment alone. She wet a washcloth with cold water and scrubbed her face, washing off the remains of her makeup and dabbing at the dark circles left beneath her eyes by her mascara. A slight flush remained around her lips, and she realized her skin had beard burn from Bryan’s face. As she traced her fingertips over the reddened skin, her lower lip trembled. Not forming an attachment to a relationship doomed from the start was the only smart, sane thing to do.