Burned

32

            It was as if there had been something muffling Alfie's hearing all his life. It was faint and he didn't notice until one unseasonably warm autumn night. They'd left the master bedroom windows open to allow some air in. A metal fan rattled about in the corner, creating a strangely lulling hum. Alfie slept peacefully, just happy to smell the crisp fall scent in the air and have his very pregnant wife curled up in his arms.

The peace wouldn't last the night. A sharp gasp from Louise woke him up nearly instantly.

"Alfie, my water broke."

Disoriented and still half asleep, Alfie threw an arm over his face. "What you on 'bout? What water spilled?"

"My water!" Frantic, Louise shook his shoulder.

"Lou, it's late, I'm sure you didn't spill that much fucking water to warrant waking me up."

"Alfie, I'm going into labor!" She snapped and continued shaking him.

Those were the words that he'd been anxiously waiting for, both with excitement and dread. A sharp jolt of electricity forced him to sit up in bed. "What?"

"I'm going into labor, you need to call the midwife!" She put a hand over her stomach. "It'll take her least half an hour to get here."

"Fuck." Her husband got up. "Just keep breathing, love, everything's gonna be alright." The assurance was more for his sake than his wife's. She'd been prepared for the day much more than Alfie had.

"Wake Evelyn as well." Louise requested. She needed another level head to offset the panic she anticipated from Alfie.

He had no experience with pregnancy so he couldn't fathom how long it took to deliver a baby. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Afraid it would be minutes rather than hours, he banged on Evelyn's door.

The young woman opened the door with a weary face. "Mr. Solomons? Something the matter?"

"Louise's gone into labor. I need to call the midwife but she wants you there with her." He rattled off almost incoherently.

Luckily, Evelyn had been working for the man long enough to understand him even at his most unintelligible moments. "Alright, just calm down." She instructed carefully. "It'll be a bit before she actually delivers the baby. There'll be plenty of time 'fore the midwife gets here."

Alfie nodded absent-mindedly, his thoughts whipping up into a frenzy. "Right, right, right...okay. You go stay with her. I'll go and call." He repeated again and the two parted ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fortunately, the midwife was used to calls during the middle of the night. As she was on her way, Evelyn kept Louise company. The contractions were still far apart so there wasn't much they could do but wait.

Alfie loathed waiting but the situation was driving him insane with worry. He paced the room, Cyril following at his heels. He checked his pocket watch nearly every minute, watching the small hands tick by. How much longer until he was given the enormous task of being a father?

The midwife and her assistant arrived forty-five minutes later. Sarah was a middle-aged woman who was well respected in Surrey for being the best of the best in her field. She had a naturally calming presence but Alfie had worked himself up far beyond the point of being calmed down.

"She's in here." He hurried Sarah upstairs and down the hall. "She's been timing the contractions, don't remember what she said they were last."