Page 75 of Demo
“No,” I sniffled and wiped my nose on my wrist.
There was a pause. “Is it the baby?”
When I could only cry, he continued. “Lizzie, listen to me. Take a breath. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. I’m here with you. I’m here. Are you driving?”
I shook my head, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “No. I’m in the parking lot of the pharmacy. I had to get pads.” I let that sink in for a minute as he remained mute on the other end of the line.
“I’m bleeding, Knox. I called the doctor, and she said … well, she said it’s very possible we’re, I’m …”
I swear I could hear him gulp through the phone line. “I’m coming home,” he said. And there was more rustling. “I’m coming now.”
“I was spotting, and then I was bleeding heavily, and the doctor said there’s nothing we can do, but …” I was sobbing, and I’d be surprised if Knox could even understand what I was saying.
“I’m here,” was all he said. I could hear the beep of a vehicle and the roar of an engine.
“Knox, don’t. You’re like—”
“It’ll take me six hours to drive. I’m coming to you.”
There was silence. “Lizzie?”
“Knox, I’m scared!” It came out loud and frightened and muffled in a sob.
“It’s OK, baby, I’m right here. I’m not hanging up. I’ll be here the whole time. Just breathe.”
I tried to suck air into my strangled throat and lungs, and as if he could hear it, Knox cooed, “That’s good. Take another breath.”
I closed my eyes and imagined his arms around me. Swaying. Dancing. I wanted nothing more at that moment. “Are you in any pain?” his voice came through the phone.
“No. Well, a little cramping, but not much.”
I was still sitting in the running car and decided to head home. As I navigated the turns, listening to Knox do the same, I couldn’t tell the difference between what was my clicking turn signal or his. Then eventually I heard a hum that indicated he was picking up speed.
“Are you on the highway now?” I asked him.
“Yeah, just getting on. GPS says I should be there by about five-thirty.”
“Knox, you can’t drive through the night. You’re gonna pass out.”
After a second, he said, “Believe me, I’m not going to fall asleep right now.”
“Right. That was kind of stupid,” I said. “Tell me about the convention. Your dad. Bram … Tell me anything. Distract me.”
I heard him let out a breath, then Knox started in on a story about new material being used to insulate bigger commercial buildings. He talked me through my drive home and back to my apartment. I changed my pad, which was soaked through. He asked me again if I was in any pain. Then we moved on to my sister, who I decided not to call, since she didn’t even know I was pregnant. We talked about my job, and anything to keep the time moving until he could get to me.
Sometime around three in the morning he told me he had to stop to gas up. When he heard me yawn, he suggested I try to get some sleep.
“No, I have to keep you company on the phone so you don’t fall asleep,” I told him.
“I’m OK,” he said. “I’ll listen to music. I’ll open the window. Anyway, I just have like two more hours to go. Just close your eyes, and when you open them, I’ll be there.”
I had been curled up on my bed for about an hour. I pulled the covers up over my shoulder and up to my chin. “Knox?”
“Yeah, Lizzie?”
“I’m scared.”
He let out a breath. “I know. Me too. I’ll be there soon.”
