Baby Be Mine

Our first child was well past Beverly’s due date. My paternal instincts had been on high alert for so long, I could run through “the plan” we had to get to the hospital in my sleep. Did I say sleep? I meant when I’m up at all hours warming milk and grilling cheese and pickle sandwiches.

Not to brag, but I even learned I had a gift for massage. At one point, mid-Shiatsu, I swear I heard my wife sigh that she forgave me for everything, whatever that might mean. At another, I’m convinced she forgave me for anything I may ever do. I thought this could be handy information to bring with us into the delivery room. I like to inject a little levity into most situations, but something told me to wait and see on this one.

I didn’t mind any of it actually. I couldn’t let a little sleep-deprivation sideline me. I'd always wanted a family and now was about to embark on my greatest adventure: Fatherhood.

The night it all happened there was an early snowfall and the local forecast was not in our favor. Thankfully, when it had become clear the baby was going to be a late arrival, I took time off work to be on hand with Beverly when the little squirt decided to join us. This day was low-key and peaceful. We spent most of it bundled on the couch in flannel and blankets, watching the weather.

As I watched the snow come, I tried to share my wife’s sleepy calm and simply drift. I waited for the little snort Beverly usually came out with before settling into sleep. I could sense something inside tugging at me. I shifted my weight, thinking it would subside, but it came again. I realized doubts were trying to creep in.

But, I insisted, I have a plan.

The tugging backed off a little, but the doubts remained. For so long I’d depended on my "fake it ‘til you make it" philosophy and truth is I had been able to rise to the expectations I placed on myself. This was different. Beverly snuffled and leaned into me, so I shifted again to support her. The sweet contentment in quiet moments like this remained in my wife’s face but now eluded me.

* * *

“Devin, wake up.”

“I’m awake.”

“It’s time.”

It had gotten dark. Mind and muscle memory kicked into gear and I sprang into action. I took no notice of my leg taking the corner too tightly around the coffee table and connecting with the wood. I’d done this too many times to count, but the bruise-to-come wouldn’t compare to the broken toe I managed to sustain stumbling over my stacks of baby care books on my way to the closet to gather Bev’s overnight bag. Somehow I was able to swallow my suffering and keep going.

“Devin, why are you limping?”

“I’m not, no, I’m fine. Let’s go have a baby!”

Once Beverly was buckled in the car, overnight bag in the backseat, my throbbing toe mentally relegated to a distant concern, I breathed. The first part of the plan had gone relatively well. Check.

Next, get to the hospital. I pressed the remote and waited for the garage doors to open. I listened to make sure they weren’t hindered by ice or snow. With only a slight catch at the bottom, the doors groaned into action. I held my breath until I could make out the borders of the driveway. I knew how to drive in snow but when the drifts reached a certain level, all bets were off.

Now, I thought, if the town had done their part and plowed the main roads, we’ll be in business. The town we lived in was situated somewhere between urban sophistication and rural rusticity. There weren’t many theaters or restaurants but the town had most of life’s necessities nestled into a quaint little center. The charm of it was undeniable, all red brick and white clapboard. When the local school system got high marks, we bought in.

“Here we go.”

The clouds of steam billowing from Beverly’s puffing was my cue. I backed out of the garage slowly, adjusted going from cement to packed snow, tapping the brakes. There were a few inches of newly accumulated powder on the main roads, so I allowed myself an exhale. Slow and steady now, destination Hospital.

I’d called our doctor and left a message for her to meet us in the ER. Hospital staff also knew we were on our way and had an ambulance ready in case we ran into trouble getting to them. I remember ending the call and thinking we had made the best choice when we moved here. I made room for a bit of optimism to join us as I concentrated on the road.

After a few minutes of driving, squinting my eyes to see through windshield wipers frantically working to keep up, I noticed Beverly was puffing in time with the swipe of the wipers. I was about to ask her if she wanted music when I realized the light ahead was red. I took my foot off the gas and felt the car slow. When I pressed the gas pedal, the tires spun for a moment before they gained traction again.

“I hope I don’t have to stop. I’m not sure we’d go again.”

Beverly’s eyes were closed. I could barely make out what she said between puffing and clenching her teeth.

“Please. Just. Hurry.”

I kept the car moving. As we approached the four-way intersection, there wasn’t another car in sight. I rolled down my window to listen and was slapped in the face with a gust of stinging wet crystals. The snow was beginning to freeze.

Then I ran the red light.

I went back to focusing on the road ahead. I took Beverly’s hand and gave her as reassuring an expression as I could manage. That was when a flash of red ran across our faces from behind, followed by several sharp chirps and the siren.

“Is that . . .” Beverly whimpered.

I rolled down my window and peered into the mirror. I cursed under my breath and quickly rolled my window back up. When I reached for the turn signal, Beverly grabbed my arm.

“No, we can’t stop!”

“I have to pull over. Sweetheart, this should only take a minute and I bet they provide an escort and get us there faster.”

Snowdrifts prevented me from locating the curb so I turned my blinker on and slowed to a stop. A police cruiser pulled behind us, lights on, siren reduced to a chirp, then silence.

I took Beverly’s hand and whispered, “Trust me.”

We heard the tap at my window. I rolled it down. I couldn’t make out a face in the darkness beneath the police cap covered in plastic. I tried smiling.

“Good evening, officer. We’re having kind of an emergency . . .”

“License and registration, please.”

“Yes, of course. But, first, officer . . .”

“License and registration.”

“If this is about the red light back there, I can explain.”

“Step out of the car, please.”

“Oh, but I just . . . if you’ll let . . .”

“Fucking hell! If you want to deliver a baby, asshole, this could be your lucky day!”

I grinned at my wife. I’d never heard her say anything stronger than “hell’s bells.” Somehow I loved her even more.

“My wife put it better than I ever could, officer.”

“Get out of the car! Hands where I can see them!”

This joker had a gun pointed at us. I glanced at Beverly. Her demeanor suggested a wild animal just below the surface and when I saw the blazing look in her eye, I decided I’d best join the joker. So, I opened my car door and came face to face with a service revolver.

“Hands above your head. Now!”

I decided cooperating was my best avenue, so I did as I was told. I was quickly spun around, hands thrust onto the icy hood of my car.

“Don’t hurt him, you bastards!”

I saw from the corner of my eye a second cop car. There were two of them. I had a chance if this one had a more receptive ear. I turned to Officer 2.

“Eyes straight ahead.”

“I’m trying to explain. If you’d let me.”

I spied Beverly through the windshield between swipes. She was moving and I was afraid she might . . . no, I knew she would try to intervene.

“My wife is in labor and we’re on our way to the hospital,” I shouted.

I glanced toward Beverly just as the wipers swept a clear swipe that revealed horror on my wife’s face. A sharp white flash suddenly filled my head. Then I went out like a light.

* * *

I came to in the back seat of the police cruiser, handcuffed and buckled. My aching head felt ready to roll off my shoulders. It was bad enough to kick my frozen broken toe off center stage and take its place.

“My wife . . .”

“My partner’s keeping an eye on her. Think you’re ready to cooperate now? ”

“I was trying to. . .” I took a deep breath. “My wife is in labor. . .”

“One question. Did you run a red light tonight?”

“Of course I did."

“At the intersection of Boone and Chapman?”

“Yes, I said yes. Will you please just give me a ticket and let me get my wife to the hospital?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“What do you mean?”

“You broke the law. You admitted it.”

“Right. So, why can’t I be on my way?”

“The law was changed.”

“Changed? What do you mean changed?”

”You should probably get a lawyer to advise you on that.”

“Lawyer?” I suddenly felt rising panic. “For a traffic infraction? No one was hurt.”

The officer gave me a patient look.

“Don’t you watch local news?”

“Well, I’ve been a little preoccupied and today was all about the weather.”

“You’re right. We’d better head back to headquarters.”

“Wait a minute. Aren’t you going to let me go?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? I didn’t do anything!"

“Look, do you want to spend the night out here and freeze to death?”

“I want my rights!”

“Run a light, lose your right.”

The psycho actually smiled at me.

“So, what’s supposed to happen now?”

“You’ll be taken to the stationhouse for a mandatory overnight. We’ll compound your car. We have your license, you won’t be needing it for a while. Tomorrow morning you’ll be arraigned before a judge. It goes from there.”

“My wife, what about my . . .” Baby, I thought, as a wave of nausea hit me.

The officer glanced at the time on the cruiser’s dash. “They’ll be at the hospital by now. She’s being looked after, like I said.”

I felt hot, red in the face as tears sprang from my eyes. I thought I might ignite. This was madness. I wanted to kill.

I fought to steady my voice. “Do you have children?”

The officer turned around, put the car in drive and pulled out. I could see in the rearview visor that his eyes were cold, detached.

“That’s irrelevant.”

* * *

The booking at the stationhouse was a nightmare played out in real time. I tried everything I could think of to get to the hospital. I was being treated like a criminal. I held my fury close. I thought I should conserve what energy I had to get to Beverly. Once we were together we could fight this thing and then move onto the life we’d planned.

I’d wasted my free phone call getting tangled up in knots with the most inept nursing staff I had ever encountered. They couldn’t find my wife, my wife’s room, my wife’s doctor. The world had become a stranger I didn’t recognize.

Sitting up on a bottom bunk, I tried to keep my mind from torturing me further, but there was no keeping my worst thoughts from sneaking in, upending every attempt I made toward a plan going forward. There wasn’t any peace to be had that night.

I tried reassuring myself over and over that I’d be able to straighten everything out when morning came.

* * *

The next morning, barely able to stand, I was deposited before a tight-faced little man in a black robe. Once my eyes focused, I saw that the judge’s nameplate on the bench read, “The Honorable Dewey Belchmore.” I decided it best not to react so I looked past it, just in time to catch the judge sizing me up and picking me apart with a stern eye.

“I understand the defendant wishes to proceed without counsel.”

I opened my mouth to respond but then the judge abruptly turned his attention to the table next to mine.

“Prosecutor?”

“Thank you, Your Honor. The defendant stands accused of running a red light at the intersection of Booth and Chapman. All events occurred within county limits and the defendant can be identified.”

I had developed a ringing in my ears overnight, so I only half-heard the proceedings. I was waiting for my turn to speak.

“The crime is punishable by revocation of the defendant’s driver license for one year; one hundred hours of community service; ten thousand dollars in court fees and fines, and immediate surrender of the defendant’s first-born child.”

The judge turned to me. “How do you plead?”

“I’m sorry? Wait. . . I don’t . . .”

The judge looked to the prosecutor, clearly miffed, then to me.

“Is there a problem?”

“Oh, okay, okay. I get it now. This is a joke! This isn’t real. This . . . so who are you people? Really? And what kind of name is Belchmore? You couldn’t come up with anything better?”

“Another word, sir, and you will be held in contempt.”

“Well, it’s a little late for that. Now, if you’ll excuse me – and you will – my wife and child are waiting for me. It’s time for me to rejoin them. We’re probably a family of three by now and I missed it! You all did that to me! I think I’ve been punished enough!”

“I'm not the one who broke the law. You apparently did. We are a state of laws, sir, laws we all have to live by.”

“But this is barbarism! This isn't human! It's insane. You can’t do it! Nobody’s going to take . . . that cannot be the law and I refuse to believe that it is.”

“The truth is it doesn’t really matter what you believe, sir. The law is the law. We don’t make the laws. We merely enforce them to protect the public welfare. You need to vent your frustration elsewhere.”

“But no harm came of it. It’s not like I killed anyone!”

“Well, no one said you did, so stop side-stepping the real issue. Deterrence is the key here you refuse to acknowledge, but I can understand that you’re not there yet. Perhaps with time and some rehabilitative services, you might.”

“But why, why take away . . .”

“Sir, if you can’t respect our rules and keep yourself out of trouble, especially with something as simple as waiting for red to turn green, there’s little confidence that you would do well raising a child to live properly and obey our laws. That is the thread that binds all this together.”

“But . . .”

“Enough. Let’s keep things moving. What do you plead, sir? Guilty or . . .”

“I want a lawyer.”

* * *

“Devin? It’s time!”

I willed my eyes open.

“The baby’s coming!”

I felt too heavy a weight on me to move.

“I don't think I should drive.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake the dread that still clung.

Beverly, with effort, sat next to me.

“You really slept. Are you all right?”

“I had a . . .” I shook my head. “I guess I’m scared.”

I felt a light kiss. Beverly.

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t, at least a little. And you’re not alone.”

I grabbed those words like a life jacket. When my wife suddenly clamped my hand and groaned through a contraction, I got up.

As “the plan” came back into focus, the dream faded. I managed to avoid banging into the coffee table and Bev had already placed her suitcase by the door, so my toe remained intact.

Once we were buckled in, Beverly placed her mitten-clad hand on mine.

“Devin, this is one of the last moments we’ll have together before we become a family and I have something to tell you.”

I waited.

“If you don’t snap out of this funk and get us to the hospital, pronto, I swear I'll never forgive you. I’ll drive myself and have the baby without you.”

“That won't be necessary. And, by the way, even if I should mess up, I know you’ll forgive me.”

“In your dreams, buddy. In your dreams.”

I felt a smile coming on as I put the car in reverse and slowly adjusted as we went from home to snow globe and then, out into the great unknown.