Solitude Creek (Kathryn Dance 4)

The blonde, in her late twenties, was sweating fiercely. The orderly was happy to see a wedding ring on her finger. He was old-fashioned.

She grimaced in pain.

Come on, he thought to the car. A glance at the indicator. Second floor.

Come on.

"Where is he? Your husband?" Making conversation, putting her at ease.

"Fishing."

"What's he fish for?"

"Ah, ah, ah...Salmon."

So he was on a party boat. Four hours minimum. Was he out of his mind? She looked like she was ready

to pop at any minute.

She glanced up. "I'm two weeks early."

Oh. Forgiven. The orderly smiled. "My son was two weeks late. Still's never on time."

"Daughter." A nod toward the impressive belly. She gave another assortment of gasps.

Then, the car doors opened and people streamed out.

"Like one of those funny cars at a circus, all the clowns."

The woman in labor didn't laugh. Okay. But it got a smile from a nurse and an elderly couple, carrying a balloon reading IT'S A BOY!!!

After the elevator car had emptied only one person pushed on first--a doctor, natch. Then the orderly wheeled on his passenger--well, technically, two passengers--and turned her, facing out. The others walked in as well, jockeying for space. As in all hospitals, the elevators were large--to accommodate gurneys--but with the other car out, this one filled up fast. Several people said they'd wait. A dozen, fourteen people climbed on. The orderly looked at the maximum weight. How the hell helpful was that? He supposed that buzzer would sound if it was too heavy; it had a safety system like that, of course.

He hoped.

It was really packed, stifling. Hot too.

"Ah, ah, ah..."

"You'll be fine. We're three minutes away and the staff's all ready for you."

"Thank y--ahhhh."

The door closed. She was in the far right-hand corner of the car, the orderly behind her, his back to the wall. He was extremely claustrophobic but for some reason being in this position, having no one behind him, kept the discomfort at bay.

A businessman looked around. Frowned. "Shit, it's hot in here. Oh, sorry."

Maybe directed to the pregnant woman, as if the fetus might be shocked. But, the orderly thought, shit, it is hot. Prodding the claustrophobia to squirm.

The elderly couple was discussing their granddaughter's choice of a name for the boy who'd just been born. The orderly heard the beep of phone keys. The doctor, natch, again, had pulled out his mobile.

"I'm confirming a reservation..."

Blah, blah, blah.

The restaurant apparently didn't have a particular table he'd requested earlier. And he wasn't happy. The orderly sighed loudly. He never got reception in an elevator. Super Doctor Phone.

The car stopped at the second floor.