Author: Kristan Higgins

The woman was lying on her beach blanket. There was a dark stain of fluid underneath her, but it was not blood.

“Okay, folks, let’s give her some room,” Sam called out, gesturing the crowd back.

“Hi, I’m Millie,” I panted, kneeling by the woman’s side and squeezing her shoulder gently. “I’m a doctor. How are you doing?”

“I think I’m having the baby,” she gasped, her eyes wide, her hands clutching fistfuls of sand.

“Your first?” I asked, opening my bag and pulling on latex gloves.

“It’s my second,” the woman answered. I glanced up. There was a little boy about two years old holding on to the towel-waver’s leg.

Sam knelt next to me. “What can I do?”

“Keep those people back, okay?” I murmured. “I’ll need you in a second.”

As in so many emergency situations, there were about twelve things going on at once. Sam pushed back the quickly swelling crowd. I heard him talking on the radio to the ambulance. Music was playing nearby. The woman gave a low moan, and her husband came up and clutched her hand. I felt her abdomen. It was rigid with the strength of her contraction.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Heidi,” she panted.

“The ambulance is on the way, Heidi,” I said. “I’m going to check you and see where we are, okay? Do you have a clean towel?” I asked the dad. He grabbed one out of their beach bag and thrust it at me, and I slid it beneath her bottom.

“Will she be okay? Is the baby coming?” he asked.

Using the bandage scissors from my bag, I cut through the woman’s bathing suit.

The top of the baby’s head was clearly visible. “Your baby wants to see the ocean,” I said, smiling at Heidi. Her brown eyes grew even wider and she looked at her husband.

“Is your son okay?” I asked. The little boy looked terrified, eyes popping, chin trembling.

“Mark, watch him,” panted the mom, extricating her hand from her husband’s grip. “Can I push? I want to push. I think I need to push.”

“That’s fine, Heidi. Wait for the next contraction. Sam!” I called. “Give me a hand!” The crowd murmured collectively, and Sam was at my side in a flash. He took Heidi’s hand and slipped his arm under her shoulders to prop her up a little.

“I’m Sam,” he said kindly. “Looks like you’re a pro at this.”

“The baby’s not due for three more weeks!” she cried.

“Don’t worry, Heidi,” I said, giving her a quick smile. “Your body knows what to do.”

“It’s not a show, people!” Ethel barked in her rusty, crackling voice. “Back up!”

“Okay,” I said, feeling her abdomen begin to tighten again. “Here comes the next contraction, so give us a big push. One, two, three…”

She pushed, her face scrunching with effort. The baby’s head emerged a few centimeters more. Heidi gave a high, keening cry, and the crowd gasped.

“You’re doing great,” I said, easing a finger next to the baby’s wet, dark head. An ambulance siren wailed. “We’re almost there.” Her abdomen tightened again. “The head is the hard part, remember? Okay, here’s another contraction. Push, Heidi, a really big push now…”

She pushed again, and the baby’s head slid out, covered in blood and vernix and black hair. “Got a brunette here, just like you,” I said. “Now don’t push, okay? Hold on one second and just pant.”

I slipped my gloved finger into the baby’s mouth and slicked out a wad of mucus. Gently turning the head skyward, I could see that the baby’s face was blue.

“Oh, God,” said the father, dropping to one knee and clutching his son against him. “Oh, Jesus, please.”

“What’s wrong?” Heidi sobbed.

“Got a tight nuchal here,” I muttered. Sam nodded. The umbilical cord was wrapped once around the baby’s neck.

“Hang on, Heidi,” he said. “You’re doing great. Just give Millie a minute, okay?”

I worked my finger under the cord and carefully, carefully eased it up over the baby’s head.

“Please, God,” the husband choked.

“Is everything okay?” Heidi asked breathlessly.

“Everything is fine. One more second…okay. One more push, Heidi. Nice and easy.”

She pushed and the baby slid into my hands. I scooped out the baby’s mouth again. The infant gagged and another wad of mucus and liquid came up, and then, that most wonderful of all sounds, the first cries of a new life. “It’s a girl!” I announced, and the crowd gave a mighty cheer and began to applaud. Even as I rubbed the infant with a clean Scooby-Doo beach towel, her face began to turn pink. Leaving the umbilical cord for the paramedics to deal with, I placed the baby on her mother’s chest. The crowd cheered again as Heidi sobbed happily.

“Trevor! Come see your sister!” she wept. The father and little boy knelt by her side, and Sam eased away.

“Need me to do anything, Millie?” he asked as I placed another towel over the mother’s belly.

“I think I’m all set,” I said, smiling up at him. At that moment, the paramedics arrived with a stretcher. One of them came up to Sam.

“Taking over my job?” he asked amiably as his co-workers loaded Heidi and the baby onto the stretcher.

“Hey, Dave. Better talk to Dr. Barnes,” Sam answered.

“Thirty-seven weeks, para two, nuchal times one, spontaneous cry. No placenta. I saved that for you.” I grinned at the paramedic.

“Nice work,” he said. “Lucky you were here.”

As Heidi was bundled off, her husband and son in tow, the crowd once again began to applaud. I grinned, suddenly euphoric, my heart filled with joy. I turned to Sam for a hug.

“Well done, Officer,” I said into his shoulder, my throat tight with emotion.

“You’re the one who did everything, Mil,” he answered. “Great job.” We looked at each other for a moment, grinning. Sam’s eyes were warm…and a little wet. My heart squeezed. Could there be any better man to have at your side during an emergency than Sam Nickerson? I thought not.

Ethel came up and handed me Digger’s leash. “Thank the Christ I didn’t have to do that,” she grated. “Goddamn gross, if you ask me.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” said a familiar voice. I turned around.

Joe Carpenter, his blond hair glowing in the sun, wearing some old cut-off jeans, smiled at me. “Wow, Millie. You were amazing.”

“Thanks, Joe,” I said, smiling back. “Can’t take any credit, though. The mom did all the work.”

A baby! I had delivered a baby on Coast Guard Beach! Even Joe Carpenter’s golden beauty couldn’t touch that one.

The crowd was beginning to break up. A few people came up to Sam and me, congratulating us or making jokes.

As I bent down to pack up my medical bag, I noticed I was rather messy, my T-shirt smeared by the fresh-from-God baby. Oh, well, who cared? Badge of honor. I patted Digger and let him lick my face before standing up. My heart was so full that it actually caused a pleasant ache in my chest.

I stood up. Joe was still there.

“So, Millie…you doing anything tonight? Want to get a beer or something?”

For a minute, I just soaked it in, the cries of the seagulls and the roar of the waves and the voices of the people blending into a beautiful summer melody. The sun was warm and the breeze gentle, and this was clearly the best day of my life. I smiled again. “Sure, Joe.”

He smiled back, dimples appearing. “How about if we meet at the Barnacle around eight?” he suggested.

“Sounds great,” I answered, strangely calm.

“See you later, then,” he said and walked off.

Still beaming, I turned to go. Sam approached me.

“Amazing, huh, Millie?” he asked, running his hand through his short-cropped hair.

“You don’t get to deliver a baby every day, do you?” I laughed.

“Hey, you want to grab dinner later?”

I remembered belatedly that Danny was with Trish this weekend. “I can’t, Sam, I have plans. Sorry, bud.” I was sorry. It would have been nice to relive this glorious morning with him.

“No problem. Maybe I’ll see you later.” Sam grinned and went off to make his report.

As I walked off the beach, I was congratulated and complimented eleven times. Finally reaching my car, I drove home, filled with gratitude that life could be so sweet.

THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED in a dream. I called Katie and my parents and Mitch and Curtis and Janette in Boston and Dr. Bala and even Trish. After telling the story six times, it was starting to feel real. I sat outside on my tiny deck and went over every detail again and again. How lucky I felt to have been part of that baby’s birth! How proud I was of that mother, who’d managed to deliver a healthy baby on a beach in front of a crowd! How proud I was that I’d done everything right! How proud I was of Sam, so gentle and caring and calm! And of Digger, who’d been so well-behaved during the whole event! And then, after despairing last night, after eating all those Cheetos, after crying pathetically and being a loser, Joe Carpenter had asked me out! When I was unshowered and when my hair stuck up in odd places and when I was covered in blood and vernix and amniotic fluid, Joe Carpenter had asked me out.

I got a few calls from people telling me I did a great job and asking how the baby was. I called Heidi at Cape Cod Hospital to check on her, and she tearfully thanked me and “that wonderful officer.” Then I just floated around my house and yard, grinning and laughing and thrilled.

The baby had made me feel like a winner. Joe’s asking me out merely confirmed that feeling. Yesterday, I would have been deeply grateful to be noticed by J.C. the C.; today, it was merely what happened to competent, friendly, quick-thinking doctors who cleverly delivered babies on the beach.

Joe Carpenter was what I deserved.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IF I DIED AT THIS MOMENT, that would be A-okay, I thought to myself.

Joe had greeted me at the Barnacle with a kiss on the cheek, leading me to a table for two in the corner. Katie was working, and Sam had dropped in, too. We heard from the Eastham Police Department that mother and baby were just fine, happily sharing their story with reporters at Cape Cod Hospital. And though I’m sure Joe and I must have talked about something, I couldn’t remember exactly what it might have been, so happy was I on this most perfect day.

And now, Joe led me from the Barnacle. Outside, in the clear, cool night, with stars shining and wind whispering, I felt that the world was my own movie set. Everything was so perfect. Our feet crunched on the gravel driveway, and a pleasant nervousness suddenly flooded through my limbs, the shot of adrenaline tingling in my knees. It was the first feeling that managed to break the surreal quality of the day.

“This is your car, right?” Joe asked, pointing to my Honda.

“Yup, that’s mine,” I said. My mind went blank as I searched for something to say. Joe walked me over to the driver’s side and leaned against my door.

“So, Millie,” he said, grinning slowly.

“So, Joe,” I answered, my mouth going dry. The pinkish lights of the lamppost cast a romantic glow. Joe took both of my hands in his. His were rough and callused, and just that touch made my nether regions melt.

“Can I see you again?” he asked softly.

Yes! My God! It was happening! A hysterical laugh wriggled around in my stomach. “Sure,” I said, trying to react normally and not as if I had just won the Powerball lotto.

“Great,” Joe smiled. He pulled me closer and slid his hands up my bare arms. Take me now! my mind cried, and I bit my lip to still the laughter.