POWER BACK

Chapter 45: This Woman's Work

This Woman's Work

April

Bree isn't in her car. She's not outside. I open my phone and see I have a missed call from Peyton. Then she texts me.

Peyton: I found her. We're in the bathroom. Hurry.

I sprint back through the doors, down the hall, and into the women's restroom. They're in the handicap stall with the door closed. Bree whimpers.

"It's okay, Bree," Peyton whispers. "Jack is coming."

"I don't want you here!" Bree shouts. "Just go!"

"Are you talking to me, Bree?" I ask, peeking through the gap in the door.

Peyton opens the latch. "No, she's talking to me. She's in pain, but she doesn't want a big scene."

I scoot around Peyton and squat down next to Bree who's kneeling on the floor, hunched over her belly like she's protecting a treasure someone is trying to take from her. "Okay, should I call 911?"

"No! No ambulance. I'm fine. It will pass." She looks up at me, her face ashen, sweat beading above her lip. Her breath is coming quick and shallow.

"What hurts?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Yes, I can see that," I say glancing at Peyton. "Listen, I'm just going to walk you very slowly to the parking lot. No scenes. We'll get in your car and head to the ER, just to be safe."

She shakes her head no, staring at the ground. Then she starts hyperventilating like she can't get oxygen. She nods yes. "Okay," she pants. "Okay." She tries to push herself up and doubles over, so I grab her around the waist and place her arm around my shoulder. Peyton gets on the other side.

"Don't fucking touch me," Bree hisses.

"You're really not in any condition to stop me," Peyton says in a calm, steady voice. "But if you like, I can go get one of the teachers on duty."

"No!" Bree shouts. Then she quiets and allows Peyton to support her other side. We make our way to the parking lot as fast as Bree's pace allows.

When we get outside, I realize she doesn't have her purse. It has her keys in it.

"Fuck," I whisper. "Bree, where's your bag?"

She just shakes her head. "I don't know..."

Some of the faculty on duty crane their necks trying to see what's going on.

Just as one of them is about to come over, Marshall pulls up in his truck. He rolls down the window. "Climb in," he says. "I'll take you."

"How..." I'm at a loss for words.

"I texted him," Peyton says. "You can't do this all by yourself, Jack." Then she hops in the back seat so she can help me ease Bree inside. "I'll ride back here," she says. "You navigate. Call her parents."

I slide into the passenger seat, and Marshall starts driving with no idea where to take her. I don't know who her doctor is or what hospital to go to.

"Bree, which hospital does your doctor deliver at?"

She just shakes her head. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" I'm about to lose it.

She pants, clutching her stomach. "I saw the midwife...we never talked about it. It was too early."