I Think I'm in Trouble {Reimagined}

XCVI.

~ Years Before ~

November 15, 1968

"Teedee, I think you're in labor, you should go to the hospital," Barbara mentioned pretty casually over the phone.

"Do you think so?" she wondered, tears forming in her eyes.

"It's almost exactly your due date, I wouldn't be surprised... What you're telling me, how you're feeling, I wouldn't think it was odd either. Even if it's just contractions, the doctor will tell you if you need to stay or not."

She sighed.

She was only 18 years old when she got married and found out she was pregnant with her first baby, and at 19, she had no idea what to do or what to expect. Up until that moment, she had been so overly excited. Now she was terrified.

Before she found out that she was pregnant, she had been out on the road doing everything other than sitting still. When she did find out and told her husband—she still toured but took everything down a notch while he tagged along to help her out, while still letting her keep active. She had only really began to slow down the month before, preparing baby clothes and all the exciting things such as the nursery.

"Where's Robert?" her mother asked.

"He's at work," she whimpered.

Her mother chuckled, "Don't cry, baby... Everything's gonna be okay, alright?"

"Okay..." she mumbled, wiping her tears away.

"Why don't you call Robert at work? Let him know what's going on. If you can't, just..." she lingered a moment.

She was trying to figure out who else she could potentially call for help when all she could think of was Lindsey, Christine, Mick or John and she was sure half of them went back to England. She was also well aware that Robin had gone home to San Jose right after the Fleetwood Mac tour ended.

"I don't have anybody to call..." she sighed. "You're so far from me too."

Having been in New York most of her third trimester, she had assumed she would have gone into labor there before coming home to Pacific Palisades, but when she didn't, she had hoped her mom and dad would be at her side.

"I want you to go to the hospital now, not wait for me even if I can be there soon..." she stated. "If you can't get a hold of Robert, call Lindsey..."

"Robert would blow a gasket."

"The options are slim, sweetheart. You're gonna have to call an ambulance or Lindsey. I don't want you driving and I can't think of anybody else for you to call..."

She sighed once more.

"Try and get a hold of Robert and call me back. I'm gonna get a flight out there..."

"What about daddy?" she whined. "It's Friday, can't you bring Chris with you guys?" she asked of her 15 year old brother.

"I will talk to your dad, alright?" she assured, knowing he'd also want to be there.

"Okay."

"Call Robert," she repeated.

"Okay," she hung up the phone. Just before hanging up the rotary phone, she sighed as another small wave of pain engulfed her lower abdomen. She then dialed her husband's work number, getting an operator to reach out to at least his secretary.