Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)

He cast her a withering glance as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. Then he took her elbow and accompanied her down the hall. They paused just outside the nursery as another contraction seized her.

Gabriel switched on the pink-and-white chandelier so he could see her face. “Is it very bad?”

“Yes.” She tried to distract herself by leaning against the doorpost and staring into the baby’s room.

She would have been content to purchase all the furnishings for the nursery from Target, but Gabriel had insisted on Pottery Barn.

(Parenthetically, it should be noted that Julia referred to Pottery Barn as Protestant Barn, for it featured fine furnishings that were WASP-ish in the extreme. Furnishings that she was enamored of but thought were too expensive.)

Together, and with items generously given by their friends and family, they’d transformed one of the guest rooms into a tranquil space for a little girl. Julia chose sage green for the walls and a soft white for the woodwork and crown molding. A fanciful area rug that featured flowers in pink, yellow, and green pastels covered the oak floorboards.

“This is my favorite room in the whole world,” she breathed, gazing at the classic Winnie the Pooh decals they had placed over the crib and changing table, in anticipation of wide and eager little eyes.

“It’s waiting for her.” Gabriel smiled. “It’s waiting for our little Spring Roll.”

When Julia’s contraction subsided, he took her hand and helped her down the stairs and into the Volvo, in which he’d already installed the baby’s car seat. He sent a text to Rebecca, explaining what was happening, and assured her he’d be in touch.

A short while later, they arrived at the Bain Birthing Center at Mount Auburn Hospital. By the time they were settled in one of the birthing rooms, Gabriel had managed to conjure a calm exterior. He didn’t want Julia to see his anxiety or to feel the way his insides churned with unspoken fears.

But she knew. She knew what he was afraid of, and she held his hand and told him that she and Spring Roll were going to be fine.

They held hands during her internal exam, in which the obstetrician on call announced that Spring Roll was in a transverse position and that she hoped the baby would decide to turn when it was time for her to be born.

Nurse Tracy quickly distracted a nervous Gabriel from demanding a complicated, illustrated explanation of transverse positions, teaching him to read the monitor so he could tell Julia when a contraction was peaking and when it was coming to an end.

She was grateful for his distraction. But that didn’t stop him from Googling transverse positions and their attendant information on his iPhone.

(It should be noted that at that point, Julia wished he’d left the damn thing at home.)

Fortunately, the pain medication relaxed her enough to allow her to nap, and she drifted into semiconsciousness.

“Julianne?”

She opened her eyes to see her husband standing over her, a concerned expression on his face.

She smiled at him weakly, and it almost broke his heart.

“You were moaning.”

“I must have been dreaming.”

Julia reached out to him and he took her hand, bringing it up to his lips so he could kiss it.

“My rings,” she whispered, pressing against his wedding band. “Did I lose them?”

He stroked her naked finger. “You took them off months ago, remember? Your fingers were swelling and you were worried they’d get stuck. You started wearing them on the necklace I gave you a year ago, back in the orchard.”

She reached up to touch her neck. “I forgot. I put them in my jewelry box yesterday.”

“You had a premonition. Spring Roll is almost here.”

She closed her eyes. “I didn’t think anything would be more demanding than my program at Harvard. I was wrong.”

Gabriel’s heart clenched.

“You’ll be back at the university soon enough. Rebecca and I will help.”

Julia hummed in response.

“I know it was too soon.” He brought his mouth to her ear. “I’m sorry.”

“We talked about this. Sometimes surprises are the best things.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Having a child with you isn’t a hardship. Except for the pain.” She grimaced.

He pressed his lips to her brow. “I called my dad. He’s going to speak to your dad and Diane. I doubt they’ll be able to drive up with Tommy, but he’s going to offer.”

She nodded but didn’t open her eyes. “Good.”

While Julia was sleeping, the obstetrician attempted to reassure Gabriel that the transverse positioning of babies was not uncommon. A baby would sometimes reposition herself during labor or the obstetrician would simply turn her. It was nothing to worry about.

Gabriel was grateful for the doctor’s encouragement but still anxious. What gave him strength was his hope for the future—the knowledge that soon he would meet his daughter and he could begin being a father.

As Julia lay in her bed half-asleep and dreaming, he paced the room. She looked so small in the big hospital bed, so fragile.

So young.

Chapter Eighty-three

Julia?” Gabriel held her hand as the next contraction gripped her. He kept a watchful eye on the monitor so he could announce when the contraction was beginning to subside, and then afterward he would gently stroke her knuckles or her forehead, praising her.

“You’re doing so well.”

Gabriel was not. He was disheveled and nervous and, if he were to take the time to think about it, extremely concerned. Despite the fact that they were in a well-respected hospital in Boston and enjoying excellent medical care, he was terrified.

He kept his fears to himself, silently praying over and over that Julia and Spring Roll would be all right.

Shortly before nine o’clock in the evening, Julia began to run a fever. By that time, Dr. Rubio was on call. She examined Julia and ordered an antibiotic added to her intravenous drip.

Gabriel chewed at his lip as he watched the nurse hang the bag next to the other fluids that slowly dripped into his wife’s arm.

Dr. Rubio broke Julia’s water and encouraged her to begin pushing. Her epidural succeeded in taking only some of the pain away, and much of it remained. Julia still had feeling in the lower half of her body.

Nurse Susan held one of Julia’s legs while Gabriel held the other. She pushed with each contraction, and although Dr. Rubio and Gabriel cheered her on, very little happened. Eventually the obstetrician admitted what Gabriel had been afraid of—Spring Roll was stubbornly maintaining her transverse position, and she was situated too high up to be delivered with forceps.