At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [98]
Once in Greenville, the traffic picked up. Not too many cars, but enough to require him to stop at more than a few lights. At the second one, he turned toward Lexie. If anything, she seemed even more pregnant than she had when they’d begun the drive.
“You doing okay?” he asked again.
“Stop asking me that,” she said. “Trust me, I’ll let you know if I’m not.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Good,” she said.
Jeremy stared at the light, wondering why on earth it wouldn’t turn green. Wasn’t it obvious there was an emergency here? He glanced over at his wife, fighting the urge to ask again if she was doing okay.
He rolled to a stop at the emergency room entrance, and his frantic look and the loud announcement to all assembled that his wife was in labor brought an orderly to the car with a wheelchair. Jeremy helped Lexie from the car, and she moved to the wheelchair. He grabbed the bag from the backseat and followed them through the entrance. Despite the hour, the place was crowded and three people were waiting at the check-in window.
He figured they would head straight for the maternity ward, especially given the circumstances, but instead Lexie was wheeled toward the check-in window and he was forced to wait in line. No one behind the counter was rushing; the nurses seemed to be far more interested in sipping their coffee and chatting. Jeremy could barely contain his impatience, especially as he waited while those in front of him were checking in. None of them looked as if they were at death’s door; most looked as if they wanted to get a prescription refilled. One even seemed to be attempting to flirt. Finally—finally!—it was his turn. Before he said a word, a nurse who seemed uninterested in his wife’s plight thrust a clipboard toward him.
“Fill in the first three pages, sign the fourth, and I’ll need to see your insurance card.”
“Is this really necessary now? I mean, my wife’s in labor. Shouldn’t she go to the room first?”
The nurse turned her attention to Lexie. “How far apart are your contractions?”
“About eight minutes.”
“How long have you been in labor?”
“I don’t know. Maybe three hours?”
The nurse nodded and looked at Jeremy. “First three pages, sign the fourth. And don’t forget the insurance card.”
Jeremy took the clipboard and hurried toward a seat, feeling more than a little put out. Paperwork? They needed paperwork at a time like this? In an emergency? In his opinion, the world was drowning in paperwork already. The hospital had reams of paperwork, and he was about to set aside the clipboard so he could march up to the window and calmly explain the situation. The nurse just didn’t seem to get it.
“Hello?”
Jeremy looked up at the sound of Lexie’s voice. Her wheelchair was still stationed next to the check-in window, halfway across the room. “Are you just going to leave me sitting here?”
Jeremy could feel the eyes of strangers on him. More than one woman scowled.
“Sorry,” he said, rising quickly. He scurried across the room to get her. Then, after wheeling her around, he started back toward his seat.
“Don’t forget the bag.”
“Right,” he said. He went back to get it, ignoring the stares, and sat beside her.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“I’m going to punch you if you ask me one more time. I’m serious.”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
“Just get the paperwork ready, okay?”
He nodded and went to work on the forms, thinking again that he was wasting his time. They really should have given his wife a room first. He could have done the paperwork later.
It took a few minutes, and then he headed toward the check-in counter. As fate would have it, someone seemed to have exactly the same idea and got to the counter first, and he was forced to wait again. By the time it was his turn, he was stewing, and he handed over the clipboard without a word.
The nurse took her time again. She examined each page, made copies, and then grabbed a few wristbands from the drawer and began to write Lexie’s name and identification number on them. Slowly. At a glacial pace. Jeremy tapped his foot while he waited.