Danielle Steel: The Apartment

“That’s what mothers are for,” Sarah answered, and kissed her daughter’s cheek, and they fell asleep holding hands. It was like being a little girl again, and she felt safe.

The day of the rehearsal dinner, Sasha and her bridesmaids all went to get manicures and pedicures at a place Valentina recommended. Sasha had gotten her hair cut in a stylish bob for the wedding the day before, and it was all blond now. She couldn’t wait to wear her new short sexy black dress that night. The girls were all laughing and talking at the nail salon when her father called her. They had arrived from Atlanta that morning, with the children and their nanny. Muriel was due in that afternoon, and the Scotts had arrived the night before. Alex and Sasha had stopped by the hotel to give them a hug. They were staying at the Plaza, and Ben went out with them afterward, and they stayed out too late, but had fun.

“What’s up, Dad?” Sasha saw his name come up on her cell phone. She was off call, and officially on vacation since the day before, and had two weeks off for a honeymoon in Paris. She couldn’t think of anything more romantic than Paris in June, with Alex.

“We have a little problem,” he said to Sasha in a falsely calm voice.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha was instantly on alert.

“Charlotte’s having contractions, some pretty strong ones, and she’s only seven months pregnant. This shouldn’t be happening. She thinks she’s in labor.”

“Did she call her doctor?” Sasha asked in her professional voice.

“Yes, but she can’t evaluate her over the phone. She thinks she should be seen. And to be honest, so do I. The pains are pretty powerful, and they’re five minutes apart.”

“Do you want me to recommend someone?” Sasha was instantly the doctor, and no longer the daughter.

“Would you take a look at her?”

“Does Charlotte want me to?” Sasha asked fairly.

“Yes, she does. We both do. Are you busy?” Sasha was stunned. Me? Getting married tomorrow? With a rehearsal dinner for a hundred people tonight? Of course not. Just sitting here eating bonbons waiting for you to call.

“That’s fine. I can meet you at the hospital in twenty minutes,” she recovered. Her nails were dry, and she was wearing sandals so she didn’t mess up the polish on her toes, which was a pale shell pink, called Ballerina, by Chanel. When she told the others she had to leave, they pleaded with her to stick around—they were going back to the apartment to drink champagne.

“Charlotte has a problem. I promised my father I’d see her.” She looked serious as she said it.

“Is she pregnant?” Morgan asked her, surprised.

“Seven months.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Your mother will love that.”

“Won’t she ever,” Sasha agreed with her, and she left the nail salon and found a cab. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and she got to the hospital ten minutes later and put on scrubs. Her father and Charlotte were right behind her. She was in a wheelchair and hunched over in pain. She looked like a woman in labor. At seven months, that was not good.

Sasha took them to an examining room in labor and delivery, and told the nurses she was there.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?” one of them asked her.

“Not till tomorrow. I was bored at home. Nothing good on TV,” she said, and went to join her father and his wife. Charlotte was crying and scared.

“Were the girls early?” Sasha asked her calmly.

“No, they were late,” she answered through another pain.

“What did you do today? Did you lift anything heavy? Your suitcase? The kids?”

“No…well…kind of. I picked Lizzie up for a minute, but I’ve done that before. And she’s pretty light.” Sasha nodded. Normally that shouldn’t have done it, unless she had a predisposition for preterm labor, which she didn’t, and she was young.

“Did you have sex? Any fooling around?” she asked them, pretending to herself that he wasn’t her father, and he looked sheepish, and Charlotte giggled. Oh Christ.

“Could that do it?” Charlotte appeared instantly guilty, and Sasha’s father cleared his throat.

“It could. Orgasms can set off labor. Let’s check things out.” She smiled easily at both of them, as she would any patient, and Steve stood next to his wife’s head as Sasha examined Charlotte. There was definitely some bloody show, but her waters were still intact, and her cervix was closed, so nothing major had happened yet. She reported her findings to them, and they were both relieved.

“But we’re not in the clear yet. Those contractions will get things going if we don’t stop them. If you don’t mind, I’d like to give you a shot and see if that will stop the contractions. And I want you on bed rest for a few days.”

“But I’ll miss the wedding,” she said, crushed.

“What would you rather have?” Sasha asked her gently. “Wedding cake and a baby born two months premature tonight or tomorrow, or a nice healthy baby in two months?”

“A baby in two months,” Charlotte said sadly, and Steve leaned down and kissed her. “But I bought such a pretty pink dress for tonight, and a gorgeous red one for tomorrow.”

“I’d feel a lot safer with you in bed, with no contractions,” Sasha said honestly.

“Me too,” Steve said in a firm voice as he held his wife’s hand. “Can you give her the shot?” he asked, trusting his daughter and grateful for her help. She had been wonderful about it. She went to get it and came back a few minutes later, and Charlotte didn’t even feel it. Sasha had a nurse hook up a fetal monitor, and everything was looking good. She noticed that the baby was big, but they said it wasn’t twins and it didn’t feel like it, just a big baby.

Sasha went back to the nurses’ station then to see what was going on.

“You just can’t stay away from this place, can you?” the nurses teased her, and Sasha noticed that it was five o’clock, and she called Alex to tell him where she was, and promised she’d make it to the dinner on time. She still had plenty of time to dress. And then she went back to check her stepmother again. The contractions were persistent, but slowing down a little. She waited two hours and gave her another shot, and sedated her, which she thought would help. By then it was seven, and she was going to be late for the dinner. She still had to bathe and dress.

The contractions stopped almost completely at eight after the second shot, and by then Charlotte was dozing, and Sasha told her father she should spend the night at the hospital. She could go back to their hotel the next day, but for now Sasha wanted the nurses to keep an eye on her and the monitor, and her father agreed.

“I think I should stay with her tonight,” he said in a whisper, and Sasha nodded. His two daughters were at the hotel with the nanny. He was going to miss the Scotts’ rehearsal dinner, but hopefully he’d be there tomorrow to walk her down the aisle, and she said as much to him.

“Of course.” It was eight-thirty by then, and there was no way she could go home to dress. Alex had been texting her for the last hour, and she kept promising him she’d be there and not to worry. She couldn’t miss her own rehearsal dinner the night before her wedding, and she couldn’t get home to change. She only had one choice, to go as she was. It was better than missing it entirely, and she knew they weren’t sitting down to dinner till nine.

She took a last look at Charlotte sleeping, and told her father to call if they needed her, and she told the nurses the same thing. And then she flew into the elevator in her scrubs, hailed a cab on the street, gave him the address, and told him she was in a huge hurry. And as they drove there, she realized that Charlotte had just solved a major problem. She couldn’t come to the dinner or the wedding, and Muriel would never see that she was pregnant or have to deal with her looking young and beautiful. And her mother would only have to put up with her father for one night, not two, since he was staying with Charlotte tonight. Yes! she thought to herself, as they pulled up in front of the Metropolitan Club, and she paid and jumped out, and ran through the door. She was tempted to say to the liveried doorman as she ran by, “Did someone call a doctor?” but she decided to behave, and walked into the beautiful room filled with flowers at the dinner organized by her soon-to-be in-laws, in scrubs and sandals. It was either that, or arrive at ten, when they finished dinner. She saw Alex’s look of surprise out of the corner of her eye, and her roommates’ as she went to find Helen to apologize.