Melt My Heart Page 4

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to hang up and call a friend. Or family—do you have family nearby?"

  "Well, yes, I have my daughter, but she's very busy and I don't want to bother her."

  "How about a neighbor?"

  "Can't you just send a police officer?" Alva asked, her voice thin and sharp.

  "For a chirping smoke detector?" Dylan had to restrain herself from adding are you crazy to the end of that question. "I'm sorry, all our units are tied up at the moment."

  Sometimes a little white lie was what the situation required.

  "Please?" the woman said, her voice cracking.

  Dylan softened at the sound of the single word. Mrs. McGregor might not be having what Dylan classified as an emergency, but she was desperate. Desperate for human interaction, someone to notice her. Desperate for a voice to acknowledge that she existed. Dylan knew how that felt.

  Though she should have ended the call there, she decided to stay on for a moment. Something Laura Munro had said to her the other night popped into her mind. You're doing something heroic. Dylan hadn't thought so at the time—she saw real heroes every day—but maybe there was something to what she had said. That you could find heroism in the small things. The things Dylan considered small could be heroic, could save a life, in a way. It was all a matter of perspective. "Mrs. McGregor, when was the last time you changed your batteries?"

  "My son—" Her voice wobbled and gave out. Dylan gave her a moment, and during that moment, she felt the familiar tension gathering in her chest. "He replaced it last, before he died."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Dylan said.

  She allowed the woman to cry on the phone, but that didn't solve the practical problem. This woman needed the batteries changed on her smoke detector. Dylan could send an officer out for a wellness check, but she didn't trust any of them to handle Mrs. McGregor's feelings properly. Plus, she didn't want the woman to get in trouble. And who knew when the daughter would show?

  "Mrs. McGregor, do you think you could put up with the chirping for a few more hours?"

  She sniffed. "Y-yes. I think so."

  She glanced behind her to check that everyone else was still in the conference room. What she was about to suggest went against policy and violated the ethical guidelines of her job. All the calls were recorded just in case, but as long as no one found out, they wouldn't have a reason to check the recordings. "This isn't an emergency so I'm not going to send the police. But I get off work at eight tonight. I'll come right there and fix the detector for you."

  "Really?"

  Had she gone too far? The woman sounded incredulous, like she wasn't so sure she wanted a stranger in her house. The last thing Dylan wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable. "If that's okay with you, yes."

  She sniffed. "Thank you, dear. Thank you."

  Dylan hung up from the call and leaned back, closing her eyes. If Marcia found out what she was doing, she would take her to task. But what did Dylan care? She was tired of sitting on the sidelines, only able to use her voice. She wanted to prove Laura Munro right, wanted to be heroic, even if that just meant doing things other people wouldn't do. Marcia couldn't fault her for that—plus, she was helping the system function smoothly.

  The phone rang again. She sprang into action.

  "Nine-one-one. What's the location of your emergency?"

  No one answered. At first, she thought it was a butt dial. The communications center got a lot of those these days. But when she listened harder, she could hear long, shaky breaths. Breaths too clear for the phone to be as far away as a back pocket.

  "Hello? This is nine-one-one," Dylan said, speaking as clearly and loudly as she could.

  "Yes," someone ground out.

  Adrenaline pumped through Dylan's body in that familiar way, making her see better, hear better, making her mind sharper. "Can you talk right now? Is someone there preventing you from speaking?"

  "No." A long stream of air made a whooshing sound in the phone. After a few seconds the caller spoke again. "I'm sorry. I was having a contraction. They're coming more quickly now. I—"

  Pregnant. "Can I please have your location, ma'am?"

  "I don't know where I am. I'm on the side of the road."

  "What road?"

  "I'm... I don't know. I don't know. Where am I?" she whispered.

  "Where were you going?"

  "I—unnnngh."

  "Breathe," Dylan said as the woman worked through a series of guttural groans. Dylan's heart skipped. She'd only had one other roadside birth before, and she scrambled to remember what to tell the woman. "It'll be okay. I'll send help as soon as you tell me where you are."

  The woman let out another whoosh of breath, then breathed in and out like she had run a sprint. Which she had, in a way, Dylan supposed. "I was coming from Love Falls Library, on my way up to Big Badger Mountain."

  "Oh, so you're on Rock Road." Dylan was very familiar with that area. "Did you pass the lake yet?"

  "No, I don't think so," the woman said, her breath easing to normal once again.

  "Help is on the way." Dylan nodded once. "The ambulance will head that way and will find you. Stay in your car."

  "Um..."

  "What?"

  "I already got out. I was trying to—" The woman paused again while another contraction hit her. She bore it in silence.

  Dylan glanced at her clock. They had only been on the phone for six minutes and the woman had already had three contractions. That did not bode well for the arrival of emergency services before this baby came. But the woman was bearing the ordeal with unexpected calm.

  "I was trying to get reception and I fell over the guardrail," the woman continued.

  "Can you move?"

  "Not far. I twisted my ankle."

  "Did you hurt anything else?"

  The woman let out a breath. "I don't think so. It's hard to tell while in labor. But I think I'm okay other than my ankle. Hold on just a..."

  Dylan nodded and typed the information out for dispatch, straining to hear what was going on. She could only make out breathing. No moans, no nothing. This woman was a gladiator. When she heard the telltale whoosh of breath, she relaxed herself. "That was less than a minute between contractions," she said, careful to keep her voice calm.

  "I know."

  "The ambulance is on its way."

  "I know."

  "Just in case we get disconnected, can I have your name and phone number?" Caught up in the excitement, Dylan had forgotten to ask these all-important questions before this point.

  "Laura Munro. 212-555-4325."

  "Thank—" Dylan stifled a gasp. It was Laura Munro on the line. Immediately, the image of the woman in the café appeared in her mind, replacing the image she had imagined upon hearing the woman's voice. Now, it was Laura on the ground, her freckled face dirty with mud, her jawline hardened with the strain.

  "How long will it take?" Laura asked.

  "The ambulance is about five minutes out."

  "Okay, okay," Laura whispered to herself. "How do you feel about getting me through birthing my child?"

  Laura's voice was strong, laced with determination and a silvery thread of fear. Dylan wanted to hold off, to tell her that the ambulance would be there soon. But from what she understood about babies, when they wanted to come, they would come. "Honestly? Can't say I have much experience, but I'll try."

  Laura laughed then, a bright surprising sound. "That makes two of us, then. I'd much rather be home with my—gaaaaaaaah."

  Dylan pried her fingers from the edge of the desk and forced herself to relax. If she was tense when she spoke, it would come out in the call. "It's going to be okay, Laura. It's going to be all right. Women have done this for hundreds of thousands of years."

  "I knoooow—ahhh," she said through the contractions. "I can feel him coming. Oh my God. Oh my God. I can't do this. I can't do this."

  "Yes, you can."

  "No, I can't. I can't. I can't."

  "La
ura—Laura!"

  Laura's voice melted into a hissing breath on the line.

  Dylan needed to take control. She couldn't sink into her empathy—she had to use it. "I know you're scared. This is scary."

  "It fucking hurts, too," Laura said.

  Dylan let herself smile at Laura's tone, which had a hint of humor in it, despite her situation. "I can only imagine."

  "Like... like... I can't even find the words and I do words for a living. Fuck. Fuck. He's coming I can feel it—"

  "Try getting on your hands and knees if you aren't already. You've got this, Laura. You are a powerful woman. Help is two minutes out."

  Laura growled, sounding like an animal in pain. Dylan wished she could be there, holding her hand. Going back over the gossip Kell and Sky had been trading, it sounded like the woman had already had a helluva year. But even if all the rumors about her were true, no one deserved to be alone, hurt and cold on the side of a dark road doing the hardest thing they would ever do in their lives. But Dylan couldn't be there. The only way she could help was with her words. She had to use her words.

  "Laura? Tell me what's going on."

  "His head is out," she said in a whisper.

  Shit. "That means he's almost here," Dylan said, forcing her voice to be chipper. "You almost have your baby."

  There was only breathing on the other side of the line. "What if he's not okay?"

  "He's fine, Laura. I promise. You can do this." Please, God, let him be okay. "Next contraction we're going to push him out and you'll get to hold your baby, okay? Are you ready?" In the split second of silence that followed, Dylan's brain said a prayer. She rarely prayed, but every so often, in moments like this, it came like second nature. Please, God, let him be okay.

  "Here it comes," Laura said.

  Dylan peeked at her dispatch screen. The ambulance was approximately a minute away, but they could be three minutes away depending on Laura's exact location. She couldn't let her do it alone. "Okay? Ready? Push, Laura, push. I'm here with you."

  Laura let out the first unbridled cry Dylan had heard from her. It seemed to go on for an eternity, but according to Dylan's clock was only fifteen seconds.

  "Oh my God. Oh my gosh, omigod." Laura sucked in a breath on a sob.

  "Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" In that moment she heard a baby cry. She let out the breath she'd been holding. Her face was wet with tears, though she couldn't remember letting moisture escape. She wiped them away. "Put him as close to your chest as possible, maybe inside your coat if you have one, to keep him warm until the ambulance arrives."

  Laura continued to cry. "I don't usually cry like this."

  "You did an amazing thing."

  "I—I can't believe it."

  Just then another call came in on the 9-1-1 line. "Do you see the ambulance yet, Laura?"

  "No, but I hear it."

  "Can you hold a moment? Are you all right?"

  "Yes... yes I'm fine. If you need to go, I'll be all right. I see them."

  Dylan quickly switched over to the other caller. It was a relatively straightforward call. A vandalized vehicle from the night before. Dylan dispatched an officer to the address and that was that. It took only a couple of minutes.

  When she switched back over to Laura's line, it was still open, but the sounds were all wrong. Men's voices spoke in a clipped fashion.

  "Ms. Munro? Ms. Munro?" they said, over and over... like...

  Do not jump to conclusions. "Laura?" Dylan said despite herself. She knew Laura couldn't hear her.

  There was a commotion. The baby was crying, a high-pitched keening. Then the line went dead.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LAURA COULDN'T STOP looking at her son.

  Her son.

  He was perfect and though he slept most of the night after he was born, Laura lay in the dark and listened to him breathe. He sounded like a tiny chirping seagull. Every few moments, she would peer over the edge of the bassinet and touch his perfect tiny nose or his little cheek. She decided to name him Aaron. He looked like an Aaron. The name meant light. And he was her light. In her darkest moment during the past twenty-four hours, when she wasn't certain whether she would live or die, he was the thing that kept her holding on to the thread of life. He kept her conscious while they got the bleeding under control.

  Now, in the early morning, as the rays of sun blazed around the shade, she gathered him to her chest and held him. It was just the two of them against the world. The first blood-related immediate family she'd had since her parents had died when she was very little. She promised herself she would never leave him like that.

  Ever.

  "Good morning, Mama," a nurse with a silver helmet of hair said, bustling into the room. She walked right over to the shade and let the sun spill in, golden rays fanning the room in all their morning glory. "My name is Ellen, and I'll be on your service for the day."

  "The day?" Laura asked. "I was hoping I could go home this morning."

  "Oh? Is that what Dr. Larry told you?" Nurse Ellen frowned at the screen of an iPad she was carrying and tapped on its surface. Her nail clicked a few times against the glass before she tucked it under her arm. "The OB who saw you when you came in last night said you need to stay at least forty-eight hours for observation. You lost a lot of blood. Amazing what you did on the side of the road there, all by yourself. The other nurses are calling you Superwoman."

  "Thanks. I didn't really have a choice. Little Aaron here was coming whether I wanted him to or not." She dragged her gaze away from the baby's perfection. "Forty-eight hours? Is there any way I can get out of here before then?"

  "Do you have someone at home who can help you? You won't be able to even lift the car seat on your own."

  Laura resented the statement. She could do whatever she put her mind to. She'd just had a baby on the side of the road, for Pete's sake. "No, but I'll be fine."

  "No." Nurse Ellen lifted her chin. "You won't."

  Laura's jaw dropped at the woman's stubbornness. "I didn't want to be in a hospital in the first place. I was supposed to give birth at home. This isn't a prison."

  "No, it's not," Nurse Ellen said, keeping her voice even and low while Laura's raised in pitch. "But your body has undergone a significant trauma. I'm not going to let you go only to have you come back here later because you're gushing blood."

  "Have you spoken to my midwife, Pam Mendez? She knows my wishes."

  "And she agrees with us."

  Laura narrowed her eyes. "Agrees, or would agree?"

  Nurse Ellen's arm dropped to her side. "Ms. Munro. You are under our care now and we will make what medical decisions we deem necessary."

  "You can't keep me here. I'll leave against medical advice."

  "Not if I have anything to say about it." Nurse Ellen placed her hands on her generous hips.

  "Oh, really?" Laura raised an eyebrow. If she wanted to have a battle of wills, Laura was up for that.

  "Stay another day, at least." Nurse Ellen's gentle tone took Laura by surprise, so she let her continue. "Let us take care of you both. Regain a little of your strength. You'll have plenty of time to be alone with your little one and do all the caretaking yourself, if you so choose."

  Laura glanced down at the baby in her arms. She was starting to feel a little tired. Maybe she would remain here for the morning, get a little rest, and then try again in the afternoon when a new shift of nurses came on and she didn't have to fight Nurse Ratched. Right now, she didn't have the energy to argue.

  Nurse Ellen, seemingly sensing Laura's yielding, bustled to Laura's side. She took the measurements she needed, then brushed the back of her finger against the baby's cheek. "He's a beauty."

  "He's perfect."

  "Aaron. I like that name."

  "Thanks," Laura said.

  They paused for a moment, both admiring the little bundle, agreeing on that, at least.

  Then Nurse Ellen had to ruin it again by speaking. "We need to run some tests today, ju
st some simple non-invasive tests before you leave. Can I take him now?"

  Laura didn't want to give him up, but she knew they wouldn't let him home without these tests. Might as well get them over with as soon as possible. She nodded.

  "I'll change his diaper and then we'll go," the nurse said.

  She started to take him out of Laura's arms, but Laura moved away. "I can change him."

  "Trust me, sweetie, you'll change him thousands of times before he's done with diapers. Let me do it for you this once."

  Laura, too tired to argue further, released the sleeping Aaron into Nurse Ellen's arms. She watched as the nurse efficiently changed the baby's diaper. Prep diaper, lift legs, swoop under, remove old diaper, fold down front to make room for the drying umbilical cord, peel fasteners and stick. She'd paid attention each time they'd changed him so she would be able to do it when the time came. The baby started to wake and squirm and Laura longed to hold him again. It was never enough.

  "How long do you think the tests will take?" she asked.

  "About an hour? You can get some rest in the meantime." Nurse Ellen eased the stirring Aaron into his bassinet and wheeled him out the door.

  Laura watched until he was gone and then lay back on the pillow. Her whole body felt heavy, sore, and foreign. As long as she had the baby in her arms, she didn't notice, but now that he was gone, she could feel every displaced fiber. She closed her eyes, and the moment she did, her mind flashed back to the side of the road. The cold mud seeping into her skirt, smearing across her bare legs. The rustle of the wind in the trees and the sounds of the birds returning from their winter sojourn. A twig snapping. And then she saw herself the moment Aaron came into the world, gripping on to the lifeline of modern society that was her cell phone and the 9-1-1 call.

  Nurse Ellen had said she had done it alone, but Laura hadn't been alone. When she thought she couldn't do it any longer, when she'd wanted to give up most, when she'd lain her head in the mud, unable to crawl back over the rail with her twisted ankle, it was the woman's voice on the phone that had gotten her through. That voice was the light in the tunnel. That cradling, low, calm voice.

  She wished she could have thanked the woman behind the voice, but she'd forgotten in the confusion of the moment. Then, she'd passed out for some time. Maybe once she recovered a little, she would track her down. Knowing herself, though, she wouldn't. Meeting people face-to-face always brought risk, especially if they put her name and her face together. She couldn't do that now, not with Aaron in the picture.