Hunter nodded to the man looking distraught on the other side of the large bed. ‘I’m Hunter. Your wife?’
He nodded abruptly, pain in his dark eyes. ‘Do something. It’s not meant to be like this.’
‘We’re onto it.’
As the midwife filled them in on the details, Brenna talked softly to Amy and explained what she was doing. Pressing above the pubic bone slowly and firmly towards Amy’s lower back. ‘I’m trying to reposition baby’s shoulder. Sometimes they get stuck.’
‘I tried that,’ the midwife said. ‘No change, which was when I called your lot.’
Hunter smiled as he unpacked the portable trolley they’d brought with them. ‘You did the right thing. Brenna’s just trying once more. We’ll be on our way very soon.’ Unless baby’s shoulder shifted, and then it would arrive in a rush.
It didn’t. ‘Let’s go.’ Brenna straightened up and between them they helped Amy onto the trolley.
Immediately Hunter began wheeling her outside and across to the helicopter sitting in the middle of the road, where neighbours were keeping back traffic and other people coming to see what was going on. ‘Let’s go,’ he told Andy as soon as Amy was strapped in and the door shut.
‘I’ve called the details in,’ Brenna told him. ‘They’ve got an obstetrician on standby.’ Surgery looked like Amy’s best option now.
* * *
‘Baby was delivered safe and well by C-section, and is in PICU to keep an eye on things. Mum’s been given heavy painkillers so not very aware just now. The husband sends his thanks,’ Kevin told Hunter and Brenna when they sat down to eat lunch at four that afternoon after numerous callouts.
‘That’s the best news of the day.’ Brenna fiddled with her sandwich. ‘What about the burns lady?’
‘No change.’
As she made to drop her sandwich back on the paper bag Hunter said, ‘Eat it. I know it’s hard to swallow but we’re no good to anyone if we don’t have food.’
‘And I’ve got to deal with sixteen energetic and rowdy teenagers later.’ Her perfect white teeth bit into the bread and chicken. Her eyes closed as she worked at chewing and swallowing. She looked so vulnerable Hunter had to tighten his hand around his mug of soup to stop himself from leaping up and going to cuddle her until she smiled again.
Instead he said, ‘Thought you were aqua-jogging.’
‘We are. It’s part of the keep-fit regime their skiing coach insists on.’ Her eyes popped open and he was blasted with a caramel-coloured look. ‘It’s wind-down time. Last weekend’s competition was the final one for the year, yet the kids aren’t ready to hang up their skis. Or stop their fitness training. They’re a good lot who like doing things together, and I go along to keep them orderly. At least, I try.’
Her phone vibrated on the table and she picked it up. ‘That’s not good. A friend of mine has to fly to Toronto tonight as her mother’s been admitted to hospital.’ She tapped a reply, then put the phone aside. ‘Now what am I going to do?’
‘Problem?’ Hunter asked, even when it was obvious there was. Worry was darkening that toffee colour to coffee grinds.
‘Gina dog-sits Poppy for me when I go away. She likes getting out of the apartment she shares with two other women and coming to my house for peace and quiet. She also adores Poppy.’
‘Where are you off to this weekend?’ More downhill races? Leaping out of perfectly good flying machines?
Brenna’s face tightened. ‘This weekend is the third anniversary of Dad’s passing and the family’s going to the cabin over on Vancouver Island.’
‘I’m sorry. The date didn’t register.’ If he’d been around it would’ve been indelibly marked in his head.
‘Hunter,’ Brenna sighed. ‘Don’t apologise. I did not expect you to know the significance of this weekend.’
She was right. This stuff was hard. With nothing to add he went with a change of subject. ‘Why not take Poppy with you?’ He’d spent some amazing weekends with Brenna and her family at the holiday house. The dog would love running on the beach and in the forest behind.
‘She gets bad motion sickness, especially on the ferry, which I found out the hard way the first time I took her over there.’
He laughed. ‘Not nice.’ So Poppy would be home alone unless Brenna came up with someone else at short notice. ‘Dylan and I could stay over. It’d give Dave and Jess a break from us.’
Shock registered in her face. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’ll come up with something.’
He had spoken without thinking it through and saw how she might feel about him being in her personal space. ‘The offer’s there if you get stuck. Dylan and I could do with time away from Dave’s lot too.’ He and Brenna wouldn’t see each other except maybe at the beginning and end of the weekend, and he wouldn’t go delving into her rooms and cupboards. But he wouldn’t beg. It wasn’t that important, yet the longer he thought about it the more he’d like to have two days when he didn’t have to fit in with another family.
In his pocket his phone vibrated. ‘Hello, Mum, how’s things?’
Brenna stilled.
‘Mum, you know perfectly well Dad’s capable of doing that by himself.’ Hunter stood up to wander outside.
Brenna had begun fidgeting with her coffee mug. As for the look on her face—he didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t know about Dad’s bouts of depression, therefore wouldn’t understand what he was saying to his mother.
‘If you hadn’t moved away, I wouldn’t have to worry.’ His mother was using her best petulant voice.
It wasn’t working. ‘We discussed this. You and Dad have all the help you need at your fingertips. You don’t need me there to fix every little thing that crops up.’ Through the doorway he could see Brenna rinsing her mug at the sink, a grim expression tightening her mouth. So, she thought he’d drop everything and run back to Kamloops over a phone call.
Isn’t that what you did last time?
Dad had been thinking about suicide then. Today he was refusing to take Mum with him to the supermarket. What if it was something far worse? Was Brenna right in believing he’d pack up and leave for good?
‘No, Mum, I live here now. I am not returning to Kamloops except for visits.’ And the first one of those wasn’t happening for a while yet. They had to learn to get on without him there twenty-four seven. ‘Let Dad do what he wants. He’s not hurting anyone.’
Get that, Brenna? My life is now here in Vancouver.
Kevin waved
at him. ‘You’re on again. Car versus bus on Highway 99.’
‘Got to go.’ He hung up. Hard but necessary for all of them. As long as he was there for every mishap or disagreement, his parents were not going to start sorting out their own lives. Thankfully the staff at the village they lived in were on his side.
As he strapped himself into the seat beside Brenna, he told her, ‘Families, huh? They sure keep us busy.’
‘Worth it, though.’
She could’ve said she hoped his had been worth what he’d given up. She hadn’t. He relaxed. ‘That’s what I tell myself when Dylan wets his bed at two in the morning.’
‘He still does that?’
‘Occasionally, when he’s upset about something.’ Usually something one or other of his grandparents had told him. ‘It hasn’t happened since we moved.’ Long may that last.
‘So he’s happy here?’
‘Very.’ It was true. Dylan seemed to grow every day, expanding his horizons, not looking for trouble in cupboards. ‘Which is why we’re here. And not leaving,’ he added for good measure.
At ten past six Hunter slung his day bag over his shoulder and headed out to his four-wheel drive. He was exhausted. Every muscle ached, his head throbbed and he couldn’t wait to get home to his boy.
‘Hunter?’ Brenna stood by her car, her elbows on the roof. It was hard to read her expression in the overhead light’s sharp glare.
‘Yes?’
‘Can I take you up on your offer to look after Poppy after all?’
‘Not found anyone else?’ he asked, not liking to be second best.
She straightened and came across. ‘I haven’t asked. Turning you down was a knee-jerk reaction because it felt weird that you might be staying in my house after all this time.’
Don’t pull any punches, will you?
He gave one back. ‘We have moved on, Bren.’ Idiot. He’d just shown how far his journey had gone. Nowhere. ‘I meant Brenna. When do you head away?’