Chapter 3

I finally corner her doctor, "What the fuck is goin' on?"

"Mr. McElroy, babies come when they come. Your wife is a good month premature anyway. Frankly, we should stop this labor and wait another few weeks. But the longer this takes, the better for them."

"So stop it."

"She's refused the treatment. I was coming to find you to discuss this with her."

Treatment. "There's no way she can just close her legs and count to ten? Stopping it has to be chemical?"

"Oh, there's no serious danger to the fetus. Premature birth is more dangerous."

I shake my head, "No drugs."

"Sir, this is..."

I reach out but Peter grabs my arm, "No drugs." I repeat. "What do I have ta say? She wants to do this naturally. If-n they comin' t'day, they is comin' ta-day. Are we clear on that point, Doc?"

He stares at me then relents. "We are very clear."

I take a deep breath, flex and look at Peter. He lets my arm go. "Ok. What happens next?"

"Next we wait. At some point, your wife will hopefully dilate enough to deliver. Then the neonatal unit will take the babies and hopefully they will only be up there for a day or so."

I nod. "Thank you, sir. I promised her."

He nods. I think he might even understand. I go back up and risk peering into her room. She's asleep. Beth's with her. I take over holding her hand 'til she wakes up. It's another contraction that wakes her. This isn't pain - it's torture. If another person were doing this to her, I would tear them in half. If I could do this for her, it wouldn't even be a question. But my Ame is lying here suffering and won't let me do a thing to stop it.

"Where were you?" she whispers.

"Downstairs."

"They tried to stop it."

"I know. I talked to the doctor. I think he understands now. They won't try again."

She settles down.

"If I die, give them to Amanda." She says suddenly. I can't speak. I know I didn't hear her right. "I already spoke to her about it. She said yes."

"Fuck no."

"You can't keep..."

"Amelia, no. Fuck no. Not only no but hell no. Over my dead body. If I lose..." I can't say that. I can already feel tears falling, "Peanut Butter."

She laughs. "Oww. Alex. How can you make me laugh now?"

"I'm not laughing, Ame."

"I know. Peanut Butter. Ok. I just ... Dad didn't have any choices. He was just saddled with us and stuck. I didn't want -"

"Your father wasn't saddled with you. He loved you. Yeah, he missed your mom, but if you think he woulda traded one minute with you or Amanda for anything, you're delusional."

There's a tap at the door and the medical team comes in a poke and prod her for a few minutes. She's finally up to eight centimeters. Two more and this can rock. "Come on, Ame. Second and goal."

"If you're going to make football metaphors, you can go home right now."

"You're beautiful when you're angry."

"She's always angry." Peter says from the doorway.

I shrug, "She's always beautiful."

"Take him home, please, Peter. He's getting on my nerves."

"Alex, go home." He says casually.

"Fuck off."

He looks at Ame and shrugs, "Sorry. How you holdin' up?"

"I'm fine." She winces through another contraction and I look helplessly at Peter.

"Ame, you don't have to go through it like this." He starts.

"Get out." She hisses.

He stops, shakes his head and mouths 'downstairs' before he closes the door.