Beauty & the Blue Angel

“Are you kidding?” Daisy dug her fingers into his shoulder and talked through a pain that seemed strong enough to tear her in half. “I know what to do. Get to the hospital and deliver this baby.”

“I know. I know. But there aren’t any cabs—”

“The ambulance—”

“Look,” he said as he kept moving, “we could go back to the restaurant and wait for the ambulance. Or we could go about a block and wait for an ambulance. My way, we’ll have a registered nurse there to help. Which beats having a busboy or Sal deliver your baby.”

“Okay, that makes sense.”

He gave her a squeeze and moved even faster. “Trust me, okay? It’ll be good. I’ll take care of you.”

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

He looked at her. “Does it matter right now?”

She met those dark, deep eyes and heard herself say, “No. No, it doesn’t matter.”

As the next contraction rippled through her body, Daisy surrendered. She was in no position to hop out of his arms and race down the street, trying to find a cab on her own. Even if she’d wanted to. Which she didn’t. For some reason, it felt good having him near. Being held as if she were something precious. Someone to be cherished. It had been so long….

No, that wasn’t right. She’d never felt like this before. No one had ever cherished her. No one had ever truly cared. Not even the man she’d thought would love her forever. The man who’d given her a baby, then run off and gotten himself killed the moment he’d found out about the pregnancy.

She pushed thoughts of Jeff out of her mind. It wouldn’t do any good to go back down that road. That time was over and done, and a whole new world was about to open up to her.

If she could just make it through labor.

Alex moved quickly. Streetlamps haloed the sidewalk with a soft, ivory light and a cool evening breeze slid in off the ocean, lightening the humidity like a gift from God. Up and down the street, people went about their business, completely ignoring the tall man with a pregnant woman in his arms. A group of kids skateboarded around them like a wave cresting around a buoy, but Daisy hardly noticed. She was much too involved with what was happening to her own body to care about anything else.

“Hang on, okay?” Alex whispered. “It’s not far now.”

“Boy, I hope not.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulder again, then slowly, fractionally, relaxed. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I think this is it.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“No, I mean now.” Daisy felt as though everything inside her was struggling to push its way out of her body. And in the classes she’d taken, that was pretty much D hour. D as in delivery.

“Oh man, don’t say that.” He glanced down at her and held her more tightly to him. “Please don’t say that.”

“This isn’t exactly how I’d planned to do this, you know.”

“I know. But it’s really close. I swear. Just hold on, okay?”

“The pains are coming so fast. Really strong, too.” She tipped her head to look at him. In the glow of the streetlamp, his face seemed to pale a little, but Daisy told herself it was probably a trick of the lighting. At least, she hoped so. She didn’t want to think that he was as scared as she was.

Heck, somebody should be in charge here.

“Don’t push.”

“What?”

“Breathe, breathe. Pant. You know.” Then he demonstrated, and Daisy had to laugh despite the pain lancing through her middle.

“And where’d you learn that, fly boy?”

“Hey, I have a TV. I’ve seen movies.” He grinned, but didn’t look down at her. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, as if he could see his destination and wasn’t about to be distracted from reaching his goal. “I know all of that stuff. Boil water. Pant. Don’t push. Push.”

“Well gee,” she said, with a laugh that drifted into a moan, “I feel much better now. I had no idea you were an expert.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like to brag.”

“An unusual man.”

“Funny,” he said, sparing her a quick glance as he rounded a corner and quickened his pace. “Just don’t push anything out yet, whatever you do.” He glanced both ways at the sporadic traffic, before sprinting across the street toward an old brownstone. “We’re almost there. See? That’s it.”

Daisy held on to his broad shoulders and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. How strange. Two hours ago, she hadn’t known this man existed. Now, on the biggest night of her life, he was all that stood between her and delivering her baby on the street, alone.

And though she should have been worried—after all, he was a complete stranger—she wasn’t. There was almost a sense of peace in being held in his arms. As if it was where she belonged.

Okay, hysteria is probably not a good sign.

Where she belonged?

What was she thinking? Obviously, imminent birth put a strain on one’s faculties.

He stopped in front of the well-kept old brownstone, and Daisy smiled in spite of the pain. She loved these old buildings. There was so much character, so much history in every single brick. It was one of her dreams to one day buy a run-down place and bring it back to life, help it to regain some of its past glory. Just as someone had done here.

In the glow of the porch light, Daisy looked at the dark red front door and the petunia-filled window boxes lining the front windows. A tiny garden, bursting with colorful blooms, filled the postage stamp-size plot between the brownstone and the sidewalk. The combined scents of summer flowers swept into the air, and Daisy inhaled them with her next deep breath.

Alex climbed the short steps, reached out and punched a buzzer, holding the button down with a steady, insistent pressure.

“If you don’t let up on that button,” Daisy reminded him tightly, “they can’t answer, you know.”

“Right. Right.” He let it go and waited, tapping one foot on the concrete steps with a staccato rhythm that danced along his body and filtered into hers.

“Hey!” A disembodied voice floated out of the intercom. “Take it easy on the buzzer, huh?”

“Rita?” Alex’s voice finally sounded strained, and Daisy couldn’t help but be impressed that he’d managed to stay calm up until now. “It’s me. Open the damn door, will you?”

“Alex?” The unseen woman’s voice sharpened with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

“Do I sound all right?” He shook his head, muttered, “Sisters,” then more loudly, he ordered, “Open the door, damn it.”

A buzz sounded and the door snicked open. Alex pushed it wider with his foot. Stepping into the foyer, he kicked it shut behind him, then looked straight up.

Daisy matched his gaze, staring up the stairwell, following the line of the polished wood banisters that swept up and up the center of the four-story building. At the third floor, a woman’s head suddenly appeared over the railing.

“Alex? What on earth is—” She broke off and gasped, so loudly that Daisy heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Rita,” he called, “help.”