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So Tuck and I hop in a golf cart and head to the dock,where we board a gleaming white boat that’s obviously brand new.
“NoKathryn Dear?” I ask.
Tuck shakes his head as he starts the boat. “She’s not reliable. Or fast enough. This is Riley’s fastest boat. Go lie down inside, okay?”
But I don’t want to be alone, so I sit beside him behind the wheel. The ocean isn’t rough, but it’s not exactly calm either, and the uneven rise and fall of the boat makes my cramps—contractions—whatever they are feel ten times worse. The damp, cold air doesn’t help either.
“You all right?” Tuck’s voice is tight.
I manage a tight smile. “Should’ve taken the helicopter.”
Once we’re at the ferry landing in South Port, Tuck sprints for his truck in the parking lot. He helps me inside, and then he guns it for the hospital. The tense silence between us is punctuated only by the roar of the engine when Tuck hits the gas.
Even in the dark, I can see his jaw tic.
He’s trying not to panic, which only makes me panic more.
What if we lose the baby?
I keep my hands on the underside of my belly right next to my hips. Almost like I’m holding the baby up. Keeping him or her inside by sheer force of will.
The cramps continue.
“Talk to me,” he repeats as he flies through a red light. Luckily it’s late, or early I guess, and South Port is a ghost town.
“Same thing. Cramps. I hope the baby’s okay, Tuck.”
He puts his hand on my thigh. “It’ll be okay, Tiny. Keep talking. We’re almost there.”
It could be panic-induced delirium. But I pick up on something in Tuck’s voice. A hollowness. Like he’s repeating words off a page.
We pull up to the hospital’s emergency entrance. Tuck bolts inside and returns with a wheelchair. We’re admitted right away, and I cry as a nurse in maroon scrubs wheels me back to a room. He takes my blood pressure and temperature. Both normal. I tell him about my placenta previa. Then he hands me a hospital gown to change into.
I cry harder when I take off my yoga pants and underwear and see more blood.
The nurse frowns. “How long have you been bleeding?”
“I’m not sure. I woke up with cramps about an hour ago, and when I went to the bathroom, I saw blood.”
“More or less than you’re seeing now?”
I glance at Tuck. He runs a hand over his face. His eyes have a haunted look to them.
“About the same, I think. Right, Tuck?”
He blinks. “I think so. I’m not sure. Is she going to be okay?”
The nurse looks at me. “How many weeks are you again?” he asks.
“Twenty-five.”
He frowns. “And this is the first time this has happened?”
“Yes. With the whole placenta previa thing, I’ve been on the lookout. But this is the first time, yes.”
“I’ll go get the doctor. Y’all stay put and we’ll be right back.”
He closes the door quietly behind him. I lie on the gurney and cover my face with my hand andweep. Silent, fat tears that leak out of my eyes and roll down my neck.
