He recognized the voice of Dr. Rubio and lifted his head.
She looked tired.
“I’m sorry about what happened. We had several emergencies all at once and I couldn’t get away. I’m sorry it took me so long to—”
“Can I see her?” Gabriel interrupted.
“Of course. But I just need to explain. Your wife—”
Gabriel couldn’t hear the doctor’s words. He was enveloped in pain. All his conversations with Julia about children flooded his mind.
This was his fault. He’d persuaded her to have a baby and then they’d gotten pregnant before she was ready.
He’d done this. He’d planted his child inside her, and the act had killed her.
He lowered his head despondently.
“Professor Emerson.”
Dr. Rubio came closer.
“Professor Emerson, are you all right?” Her lightly accented voice sounded at his ear. She muttered to herself in Spanish, words that Gabriel identified, but dimly.
“Can I see her?” he whispered.
“Of course.” Dr. Rubio gestured to the door. “I’m sorry someone didn’t come to get you earlier, but the nursing staff was overwhelmed.”
Gabriel slowly got to his feet, continuing to cradle his daughter in his arms.
Dr. Rubio directed him to place the baby in the bassinet, and then she wheeled the contraption in front of her.
He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped at his face, ignoring the initials that had been embroidered on it. It had been a gift from Julianne “just because.” She was like that—generous of spirit and generous of heart. How he wished he’d worn the Star of David she’d given to him as an anniversary present. Surely he could have derived some comfort from it.
Gabriel followed Dr. Rubio through a series of rooms, until they entered a very large space that had a number of hospital beds in it.
“Here she is.”
Gabriel stopped abruptly.
Julianne was lying in a hospital bed and a nurse was leaning over her, giving her an injection.
He could see her legs shift beneath the blanket. He could hear her moan.
He blinked rapidly, as if the tears in his eyes had caused a mirage.
He felt his body sway.
“Professor Emerson?” Dr. Rubio took hold of his elbow in an effort to steady him. “Are you all right?”
She called to the nurse and asked her to place a chair next to Julia’s bedside. They helped Gabriel to the chair and wheeled the bassinet so that it was next to him.
Someone pushed a plastic cup of water into his hand. He stared at it as if it were a foreign object.
Dr. Rubio’s voice, which had been hazy in his ear, suddenly became clear.
“As I said, your wife lost a lot of blood. We had to give her a transfusion. When I made the incision for the cesarean section, I encountered one of her fibroids, and unfortunately it bled quite a bit. We had to do some surgical repair afterward, which is why the procedure took so long.”
“Fibroids?” Gabriel repeated, his hand over his mouth.
“One of her fibroids was attached to the uterus right at the place where we make the incision. We stopped the bleeding and stitched her up, but it made the c-section more complicated than usual. Fortunately, Dr. Manganiello, the surgeon on call, scrubbed in. Your wife is going to be fine.” She placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “And there doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage to her uterus. She’ll be waking up soon but she’ll be woozy. We’ll be giving her medication to control the pain. I’ll check on her tomorrow during my rounds. Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. She’s a beautiful little girl.” Dr. Rubio patted his shoulder and left.
Gabriel stared at Julia, noticing that the color in her skin had returned. She was sleeping.
“Mr. Emerson?” The nurse noticed his tears. “Can I get you something?”
He shook his head, quickly wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I thought she was dead.”
“What?” The nurse’s tone was sharp.
“No one told me. She looked like she was dead. I thought . . .”
The nurse came a step closer, a look of horror on her face. “I’m so sorry. Someone from the previous shift should have explained what was happening. There was another emergency c-section at the same time as your wife’s, but that patient lost her baby.”
Gabriel lifted his eyes to meet the nurse’s.
“That isn’t an excuse,” the nurse said quietly. “Someone should have told you that your wife was all right. I’ve worked in labor and delivery here for ten years and we lose very few mothers. Very, very few. And when we do, there is an immediate inquest and everyone is extremely upset.”
Gabriel was about to ask what “very few” meant when he heard a groan coming from Julia’s hospital bed. He put the cup of water aside and stood over her.
“Julianne?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. She looked at him for only an instant, then closed her eyes.
“Our daughter is here. She’s beautiful.”
Julianne didn’t move.
But a few minutes later, she began moaning again.