"It comes with disposable gloves. They won't be great; they probably won't even fit," she added, glancing down at his manly hands, "but they might be better than nothing."
"Good thinking."
He peeled the plastic gloves off the sheet of waxed paper to which they were stuck and worked his hands into them. It was an O. J. Simpson fit and they looked clumsy, but he thanked Tiel, then once again assured Sabra that he would try his best not to make it too unpleasant.
"This might help." For modesty's sake, Tiel spread the second sheet over the girl's knees.
Doc gave her an approving glance. 'Just relax, Sabra.
It'll be over before you know it."
She took a deep breath and pinched her eyes shut.
"First I'm going to wash the area with one of these wipes. Then bathe it with some vinegar. It might be a little cold."
As he poured the vinegar over her, blotting at it with several of the gauze pads, he asked her how she was doing.
"Okay," she replied timorously.
Tiel found herself holding her own breath. "Breathe deeply, Sabra. It'll help you relax. Let's do it together. Big inhale. Now out." Upon penetration, Sabra flinched. Tiel said, "Again. Another deep breath in. Out. That's it. Not much longer now. You're doing great."
But she wasn't. Doc's expression told her as much. He withdrew his hand from between the girl's thighs and, hiding his concern, bragged on how well she'd done. He peeled off the gloves and reached for the bottle of hand wash, rubbing it vigorously onto his hands and forearms.
"Is everything all right?"
Ronnie was back. It was he who had asked the question, but Doc addressed his answer to Sabra. "You haven't dilated much."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that your labor is dysfunctional."
"Dysfunctional?"
"That's a harsh word, but that's the medical term for it.
As hard and frequent as your pains are coming, your cervix should be dilated more than it is. The baby is trying to push its way out, but not all the parts of your body are ready for the birth."
"What can you do?"
"I can't do anything, Ronnie, but you can. You can stop this foolishness and get Sabra to a facility where she'll receive proper obstetric care."
"I already told you, no."
"No," Sabra repeated.
Before there could be any further argument, the telephone rang.
CHAPTER 4
THE UNEXPECTED, SHRILL SOUND STARTLED EVERYONE.
Donna was nearest to the ringing telephone. "What should I do?" she asked.
"Nothing."
"Ronnie, maybe you should let her answer it," Tiel suggested.
"How come? It's probably got nothing to do with me."