Work Text:
1:30 PM
“SAAAAAM!”
Sam jolts awake, his heart racing as he tries to reach for the phone. His lamp crashes to the floor, sending the phone and the cradle with it. Sam tries to orient himself enough to feel around for the receiver, half hanging off the bed. The sunlight is streaming through the windows – he has no clue what time it is, but he’s certain he hasn’t been sleeping long.
With enough of a push from Leo, Sam had finally agreed to go home and get some rest. They’ve all been running on fumes since… well, since they arrived at the White House, but even more so lately. Between dealing with the fallout from the President’s Multiple Sclerosis and now, the home stretch of the re-election campaign, the exhaustion is finally starting to hit. So he went home and got some sleep.
Or, attempted to get some sleep.
“It’s all right,” Sam says aloud, still dazed, to reassure the person on the other end after hearing what had to be a cacophony of unpleasant sounds. “Hang on. No problem.” He finally finds the receiver, then brings it to his ear. “Hi. Sorry.”
“No, I'm sorry buddy. I know you're supposed to be sleeping today,” Josh says from the other line. Word of Sam’s day off had spread.
“No, it's no problem. What's going on?” Sam drags himself off the bed and sits on the floor.
“I'm with Toby and Ginger and we are stranded somewhere in Indiana.”
Realization washes over Sam. “You got left behind by the motorcade?” he asks, still breathless.
“Yeah. And then we ran out of gas, and then there was a time zone foul-up, and also, we were waylaid by some mean schoolgirls. Alpha girls, you know what I'm saying?”
Sam hears Ginger’s muffled voice in the background, and Josh says something unintelligible back to her. “So, what are you doing now?” he asks, attempting to redirect Josh’s attention.
“We're getting a lift to the Connersville Metro which is going to take us to Indianapolis, where we're going to get a flight to either Dulles, BWI or LaGuardia,” Josh explains.
“Listen, if you want to give me your call sheets, and I can farm out a few memos for you,” Sam offers. It’s against his better judgment, given how exhausted he is, but he’s wide awake now. He could knock everything out in a few hours, head home, and go back to sleep.
“I actually need two pretty big favors from you. I need you to staff the President, he’s got one of those days.”
Just as Sam’s heart rate was returning to normal, he can feel it start to skyrocket again. “I don't know what it is you do in there.”
“Yeah, you do. Anything ceremonial, security-related, or personal, you leave the room. As it gets later in the day he's going to start to talk to you. You're going to tell him how the meeting he just had with his Council of Economic advisors relates to the meeting he had with the Agriculture Secretary, relates to his intelligence briefing, relates to the environment, relates to jobs, relates to education, relates to the campaign. You're his wide-angle lens,” Josh explains.
“There are going to be any number of areas on which I can’t give him expert advice,” Sam says.
“Welcome to the club, partner. We’ve got jackets.”
Sam exhales, then runs his hand through his hair. “What’s the second thing?”
“I’m gonna need you to keep an eye on Donna,” Josh says.
Sam’s brows knit together. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, I just… if she needs something, and I’m not there...”
Josh and Donna are expecting their first baby. Sam isn’t sure exactly how far along Donna is in her pregnancy, except that she’s in the stage where she’ll politely respond any day now when people ask when the baby is supposed to arrive. Josh has always found excuses to wander over to Donna’s desk, but as Donna’s due date approaches, Sam has noticed him going to check on her more frequently.
Sam understands – especially after Josh was shot in Rosslyn, Josh and Donna both seem to find comfort in simply being near one another. Now, with the impending arrival of his and Donna’s first child, it makes sense why Josh would want to ease that anxiety. If checking on Donna a few times while he’s at the White House will bring Josh comfort as he makes his way back home, he’s happy to do it.
“All right. I'm not going to let you down,” Sam promises.
“You never do,” Josh says.
Sam hangs up the phone and convinces himself to get dressed. He’s got a full day ahead of him.
2:15 PM
Donna hangs up the phone and jots a quick reminder on a post-it to call the Social Secretary about the potential scheduling snafu that has just been brought to her attention. With six days left before her due date, Donna’s trying her best to tie up any loose ends before she goes on maternity leave.
The First Lady enticed Donna to join the East Wing as her Deputy Chief of Staff earlier in the year, tacking on an extra title of Deputy Assistant to the President to sweeten the deal. When Donna found out she was pregnant the day after she started her new job, she worried about losing the opportunity as quickly as it had come. Of course, Abbey Bartlet was thrilled and supportive, and now Donna can count the President and the First Lady among her baby’s honorary family members.
Donna takes a deep breath, then slowly lets it out, grateful for the extra room to do so now that the baby has dropped. Donna misses working in communications with CJ sometimes. A promotion and the chance to work for another brilliant woman in politics were too much to pass up, but when things like this go wrong, she sometimes wishes she could walk into CJ’s office and commiserate with a friend.
“Donna!” As if he sensed the need, Sam appears at her door, carrying a chocolate chip cookie from the Mess. He looks surprisingly put together, despite how exhausted he surely is.
“Sam,” Donna says. “You’re sweet for covering for Josh for a little while. I know he appreciates it.”
“It’s no problem,” Sam insists, crossing the threshold into Donna’s small but cozy office. “I was wondering if he’d gotten a hold of you yet.”
He hands her the cookie, and Donna accepts. “He told me what happened, yeah. Oh, my God, it’s still warm,” Donna squeals. She breaks a piece off, the melted chocolate dripping on her thumb.
Sam smiles, taking the seat in her visitor’s chair. “How are you doing?”
“Mmmm,” Donna moans. She can already feel her blood pressure returning to normal levels. “I’m great now,” she says around a mouthful of cookie.
“I – I meant… you’re feeling okay? You’re not in any pain at all?”
Donna swallows the cookie, accepting a napkin from Sam. “I’ve been in pain for a few months now.” She notices his brows arch in concern, so she quickly clarifies. “I’m fine. Really, I am. I went to the doctor yesterday. Her exact words were baby seems comfortable in there. I’m not dilated at all.”
It’s sweet that Josh sent Sam to check on her. He’ll be back soon, she knows, but it’s so Josh to make sure she’s taken care of in his absence. It’s just as much for Josh’s peace of mind as it is hers, of course, but it makes her feel loved nonetheless.
“I don’t know what that means, but okay.” Sam checks his watch. “I have to go,” he says. “I’ll bring you dinner?”
“Yeah,” Donna agrees. “Thank you, Sam.”
Sam smiles. “You bet.”
5:49 PM
Sam keeps his word – he arrives at Donna’s office right on time with Italian food from the place Donna frequents. “They threw in several cannolis for the baby,” Sam says, removing their take-out containers from the bag and placing them at the small table in the corner of Donna’s office.
“Was it Giuseppe?” Donna asks, bracing herself on the arms of her office chair in an attempt to stand.
Sam walks over to help her up. “It was. He told me to tell you hello.” He escorts her to the table a few steps away, holding onto her arm as she sinks into the chair. It’s unnecessary but sweet, so Donna allows it.
“I’ll have to thank him,” Donna says. “He’s kept me fed for most of this pregnancy.” She reaches for one of the breadsticks in the center of the table and takes the cover off her spaghetti. “How did the interview go?”
“Well, I think. It was with Debbie Fiderer. She used to be Debbie DiLaGuardia. You remember her.”
“The woman who hired Charlie?” Donna asks, tearing off a piece of her breadstick and dipping it into her marinara sauce. “I think she’d do an excellent job.”
“I do, too,” Sam agrees. “It’s just a matter of getting the President on board, I think.”
Sam and Donna finish their meals, and at Donna’s insistence, they talk about everything but work. Poor Sam’s had enough of that lately. After a little while, she can see Sam start to fade. He’s staring at a chip in the wood on the table in front of him, not listening to a word Donna’s saying. She reaches over and gently places a hand on his arm. “Okay, I think it’s time I take you home,” Donna says.
“I’m fine,” Sam insists.
“You’re exhausted,” Donna replies, standing up and walking around to Sam’s side of the table. She extends her hand for him to take. “I’ll clean up here. You go get your coat.” Suddenly, Donna feels a pop, and then a gush of fluid. She looks down at her feet, and then back up at Sam.
“Donna?” Sam looks at the puddle beneath them, and then up at Donna. “What was that?”
“Uh…” Donna closes her eyes, inhales, and then exhales. “My water just broke.”
Sam’s eyes grow wide. “Oh. Oh. Okay. It’s fine, it’s gonna be… I can call the White House doctor… I just need my phone…”
“Sam,” Donna says, taking each of his hands in her own. “It doesn’t work like it does in the movies. At least… that’s what my doctor, the First Lady, and Josh’s mom have told me. I have time.” She says this in part to assuage her own fears, since Josh isn’t there to do it for her.
“Okay.” Sam nods. “What do we do now?”
“First, I’m going to call my doctor,” Donna says. “Then I’ll swing by the house and get my bag.” Her mind is reeling; part of her anticipates the inevitable, painful contractions she’s read about that come after one’s water breaks, while the other part of her wrestles with the fact that she’s going to have a baby. That this is real, and it’s finally happening.
And Josh isn’t here.
She pushes the thought out of her mind. He’s on his way back. He’ll get home before the baby comes. She shifts her attention back to Sam, who is still sitting in the seat in front of her. “If you want to share a cab, I can drop you off at your place on the way to the hospital.”
Sam snaps to attention at this. “No way. Not a chance.”
“Sam, I’m fine. Josh is on his way back. There’s a lot of waiting around at this stage of things, I’ll be fine by myself.”
“I’m sure you would be, but I’m not going to let you find out,” Sam insists. “I’ll go get my things. I’m going to ask someone to sit with you for a minute. Charlie, or Bonnie, or… hell, I don’t know, but I’m not leaving you alone. I promised Josh I would keep an eye on you, and that’s what I’ll do until he gets back. Got it?”
Donna feels the tears pricking the corner of her eyes. “Got it.”
Sam squeezes her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
7:06 PM
Sam expects to wait in the emergency room with Donna for a little while. Instead, they’re told to head straight to the Labor and Delivery unit. After an exam, the hospital staff confirms that Donna’s water has, in fact, broken, and they begin the process of admitting her.
It’s not long before they get settled into a room and are introduced to Donna’s nurse, a bubbly redhead named April. April wears pink scrubs and a pink headband – a badge holder with a stork clips her badge to her scrub top. She hugs Donna’s chart to her chest, leans against the wall next to her, and idly clicks the pen in her hand. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but the crew I’m working with tonight is my favorite,” April gushes. “When I had my baby, I all but closed my legs until shift change. I trust them with my life.”
This seems to get Donna’s attention. “You had your baby here?”
Sam watches as April and Donna bond over being first-time moms – April had recently given birth to a son, and this is her first shift back from maternity leave. April tells the story of what seems like a chaotic labor and delivery experience, based solely on Donna’s reactions and follow-up questions.
Sam has no idea what he’s in for, beyond the basic knowledge of how babies exit their mothers. He’s seen birth on television and in the movies, but according to Donna, that’s not what he should expect. Of course, he has no idea what he should actually expect. He’s not even sure he’s fully processed the idea that Donna could feasibly become a mother in the next twenty-four hours or so.
“This is my best friend, Sam,” Donna says, looping Sam in on the conversation. “He’s going to stay with me until my husband arrives.”
April brings a hand to her heart. “Hi, Sam. What a good friend,” she says.
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” Sam admits, cheeks flushing slightly at the praise, “but I’m here for whatever Donna needs until Josh arrives.”
Sam’s cell phone rings, and he gives April an apologetic smile. “I’m just going to…” He motions toward the hallway.
April smiles, and Sam exits the room to take the call outside. “Hello?”
“How’s Donna doing?” It’s Leo’s voice on the other end of the line. In the rush to leave the White House and get Donna to the hospital, the only person he’d told he was leaving was Margaret. She was simultaneously the best and worst person to share this sort of news with. On one hand, she’s a direct link to Leo, thus ensuring the information would reach him quickly. On the other hand, she’s a direct link to almost everyone who works in the White House, thus ensuring the information will reach the entire district before Josh even gets on a plane home. Sam’s glad he’s already aware.
Sam looks in from the hallway at Donna in the hospital bed, digging around in her purse. It’s a quintessentially Donna move. “Not much is happening right now, but they’ve admitted her. Everything’s fine.”
“Good, good. Listen, we just got word that two pipe bombs went off at Kennison State University.”
“When?”
“About thirty minutes ago. Women’s swim team was hosting a meet with a bunch of other Big Ten schools.” Sam’s stomach drops. They’re no strangers to hearing bad news in their line of work, but this feels especially heavy. “Casualties?”
“Forty-four people are dead. Somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred injured, twenty or so are critical.”
Sam straightens up. “What do you need?”
“The President is going to speak at a dinner in about an hour and a half,” Leo says. “Is there any way you’ve got a guy on staff you’d trust to –”
“I can do it,” Sam interrupts.
“Sam.”
“Donna’s fine. I’m fine. I can do it,” Sam insists.
Leo sighs. “Sam, Donna’s having a baby, Josh is stuck in Indiana with Toby, you haven’t slept more than a couple of hours in the last few days –”
“I can do it, Leo,” Sam says for a third time. “I’ve got my work bag with me.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the phone. “If Donna’s situation changes quickly…”
“I’ll work on it right now. Give me thirty minutes.”
“Call if you need backup,” Leo insists.
“Yeah.”
Sam closes his phone and takes a deep breath. He knows that when he steps back into the hospital room, he’ll have to tell Donna what happened. This is the last thing she needs right now – her husband is stranded somewhere while she’s in labor, and the guy who’s supposed to be supporting her through it is going to have to edit a speech for the President to include remarks about the tragedy.
He re-enters the room just in time to see Donna, chewing on one of Giuseppe’s cannolis. “Donna!”
The cannoli is already halfway gone, and Donna has the other half inches from her lips, despite the fact that her chipmunk cheeks are full of the dessert they didn’t have time to eat earlier. She stops chewing, eyes wide, just staring at Sam.
“Donna, you know you’re not supposed to be eating anything,” Sam scolds.
Donna swallows, then lifts the hand holding the remainder of the dessert in front of her face, as though she’s shielding him from being sprayed with crumbs. “But Giuseppe said they were for the baby!” She’s looking at him with an expression he can only describe as heartbreaking. She looks like she’s on the verge of tears, ones he caused.
“Save them.”
“What am I supposed to do, freeze them until she gets her two year old molars?” Donna challenges.
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, summoning the last shred of his patience for his friend. “Donna.”
“There’s two left,” Donna says, holding up the styrofoam container. “You want one?” The look on her face shifts from pitiful to plotting as she pops the last half of the cannoli she already started into her mouth.
“Fine.”
She turns the container around, allowing Sam to pluck his cannoli of choice out of it. Donna takes the remaining cannoli, holding it out for Sam to bump in a cheers motion. He does so, and the two sit in silence as they eat. It’s nice, to have just a moment to enjoy some time with Donna before he has to break the news to her.
“Who was on the phone?” Donna asks as Sam collects the trash and throws it away.
“Leo. A couple of pipe bombs went off at a women’s swim meet at Kennison State.”
Sam watches Donna’s face crumple. “Oh, God.”
“Forty casualties so far, a hell of a lot more injured. Leo wants me to make some edits to the President’s speech for tonight.”
“What time’s he supposed to speak?”
“Eight-fifteen, but he probably won’t until eight-thirty,” Sam says. “I told Leo I’d have it done in about a half hour, though.”
Donna inhales, then exhales. She nods once, readjusts in the bed. “Did you bring your laptop?”
“Yes.”
“If you want to dictate, I can –”
“Donna.” Sam cuts her off.
“What?”
“If Josh found out I had you working while you were in labor…”
“He would understand, especially given the extraordinary circumstances. And besides, I offered to help,” Donna insists. “Consider it penance for the contraband cannoli situation.”
Sam thinks about this this for a moment. He’s already got some of what he wants to say mapped out in his head, the rest will just take a little bit of time and probably some scribbling on his legal pad to work out.
“I type eighty-nine words a minute, Sam, I know you’re in the middle sixties. Let me help,” Donna urges.
He doesn’t really have time to argue, and he’s already wasted a few minutes indulging Donna’s last-minute forbidden dessert craving. “Okay. But if Josh asks, this was your idea.”
8:29 PM
“Josh, I need you to listen to me. I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine.” Sam watches as Donna stretches her legs out in the bed, her free hand coming up to rest on her belly. She laughs softly, wiggling her hospital slipper sock-clad toes. “I promise. I’m okay. They said if I don’t start having contractions by morning they’ll induce me, but you’ll be here by then.”
Sam’s anxiety is through the roof, but it’s still nothing compared to what Josh must be feeling. Josh is already stranded in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles away from his extremely pregnant wife, with limited ability to communicate. Now, he’s talked to her for the first time in a few hours, only to discover that her water has broken and she’s gone into labor.
Of the three of them, Donna should be the most nervous. She’s about to have a baby, and there’s a nonzero chance that Josh won’t make it in time. But if she’s scared, she’s doing an excellent job at hiding it. Donna smiles, that warm, familiar beaming smile she gets when Josh is around. “I know. But you aren’t missing anything.” A pause. “We stopped to get my bag on the way to the hospital,” Donna says. “I have everything I could possibly need, so now I need you to focus on getting home safely.”
Sam had done his best to reassure Josh that Donna was, in fact, just fine, but Josh needed to hear from Donna directly to believe it. Sam understands. He’d probably feel the same way if he were in Josh’s position.
“Love you too.” Donna hangs up the phone, handing it back to Sam.
“How is he?” Sam places the phone back in his pocket.
“He’s worried.”
“He’s always worried,” Sam says.
“At the moment I’m more worried about you. You’re practically vibrating. Come here,” Donna says, patting the spot beside her on the bed.
Sam obliges, and Donna wraps her arm around his. She rests her head on his shoulder. “I loved your speech,” she says. “You’ve had a big day. Speechwriting, Staffing the President…”
“Being there for my best friend when she has a baby,” Sam adds.
“Mmmm, this baby’s not gonna come today,” Donna laughs. “She’ll stay put until tomorrow when her father finally gets home. How was it in the Oval today?”
“You know anything about chaos theory?”
Donna laughs. “That wasn’t part of Josh’s fixation during his recovery, no.”
Sam smiles, remembering Josh’s temporary, but intense, fixation on theoretical physics. “I don’t know much, either. But it has to do with there being order and even... great beauty, in what looks like total chaos. And if we look closely enough at the randomness around us, patterns will start to emerge. I love Josh like a brother and he's a world-class political mind, but until today, I didn't know he was smarter then I was. I've worked here three years and eight months and until you sit in the room all day, you can't comprehend the chaos of the Oval Office. I had one good moment talking about the global ripple effect of budget defict, but that was it. The rest of the day was just keeping up. And this was a pretty light day.”
“That’s great,” Donna encourages. “You were thrown into an impossible situation and you still had a good moment.”
“Oh, I’m thrilled,” Sam says. “And now he’s about to do all this and become a father. I don’t know how he does it.”
Donna snuggles closer to Sam. “Josh and I started trying for a baby right before Rosslyn,” she starts. “It’s been… we’ve had to put the brakes on the plan for a little while, between work and Josh’s recovery, and… he hated waiting. We found out I was pregnant on Valentine’s Day.” She pauses, twists the corner of the blanket in her fingers. “Josh suspected before I did, if you can believe it. So I took a test. I’ve never seen him happier than I did when I showed it to him.”
“He worries, you know. About being a dad and working at the White House.”
“I worry about being a mom and working at the White House,” Donna admits. “But we have you. We have Toby, and CJ, Leo, and Charlie, and the President and the First Lady. We – all three of us – have so many people in our corner. We’ll figure it out. Maybe that’s the beauty in the chaos. We all found each other.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Maybe it is.”
10:41 PM
“Would you get me my hairbrush? It should be in the bag,” Donna says, motioning toward the duffel bag sitting by the window.
They’ve been at the hospital for a few hours, but not much has happened since their arrival. Donna is feeling, in her own words, crampy, but seems mostly unbothered by the intermittent discomfort. Josh called a little while ago to say that his flight was delayed, as expected, and despite Josh’s best efforts, he couldn’t procure a rental car. Even though Donna’s labor hasn’t progressed much, and even though Josh is set to arrive first thing in the morning, Sam has a nagging worry that Josh won’t make it in time for the birth of his daughter.
“Which pocket?”
“The big one,” Donna says. “Should be right on top.”
Something catches Sam’s eye as he pulls out the hairbrush – a book, tattered and dog-eared. The spine is cracked in several places, and post-it notes stick out of the top and sides. He even sees a piece of paper, tucked in the back of the book as an afterthought, with the word Names written at the top. He gently pulls the book out of the bag. “What’s this?” He turns the cover toward Donna.
Donna looks up, brows knitting together. “I’ve never seen that before.” She extends her hands, wiggling her fingers.
Sam hands Donna the items, and Donna drops the hairbrush next to her on the bed. Sam peers over her shoulder at the book – the words Welcome to Fatherhood are written across the cover in bold, blue font. “You’ve never seen this before?”
Donna shakes her head. “No,” she says. “He likes to read the one I have at home, but… no, I didn’t know he had this one.”
Donna opens the book to a random page. Sam can’t glean what the chapter is about, but he can see several passages highlighted in bright yellow. The next thing he notices is Josh’s handwriting in the margins, marking the pages of this book for fathers-to-be like a briefing memo. “Wow. Josh was… prepared.”
“Yeah,” Donna replies, voice thick with emotion. “This is so…” she laughs, turning a few more pages. “It’s so Josh.”
Sam can’t help but smile. It really is a Josh Lyman move. His best friend has a reputation, one he earned peacocking around the halls of the West Wing, bullying various elected officials in support of the President’s agenda. But this is the essence of who Josh is – he loves deeply and fiercely, and all he wants to do is please the people he cares about the most.
“May I?” Sam asks. “I’m not going to be nearly as prepared as Josh is, but maybe… it’ll help me help you.”
She hands him the book and wipes the tears from her eyes.
Sam may have walked into this hospital knowing nothing about babies and childbirth, but if he can help it, he’s going to walk out with not only the experiential knowledge, but at least some of the important points in this book.
Josh has helpfully flagged some of the most important pages in the book, so Sam starts at the first post-it.
“At thirteen weeks, your baby has even developed fingerprints,” Sam reads aloud. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, continuing to pace the now-familiar perimeter of Donna’s hospital room. “Huh. Did you know that? She’s got fingerprints.”
“I did,” Donna says, readjusting a pillow behind her, smiling fondly. “I think we’ve made some progress since fingerprints. You know, development of vital organs, things like that.”
Sam flips a few pages ahead. “Twenty-six weeks. This week, your baby’s eyes are forming and will soon open, if they haven’t already done so. Can you believe your baby already has eyelashes? Eyelashes,” Sam says.
Logically, he’s aware that the tiny baby inside of Donna will be a person – one with her own likes and dislikes, her own opinions and hopes and dreams. But he’s never given much thought about who that person would be.
She will undoubtedly be a mix of her parents, his two best friends. Sam finds himself wondering who she’ll look more like – will this baby have tufts of her father's brownish-auburn hair? Her mother’s expressive blue eyes? Will she laugh like Donna, hug like Josh? The possibilities make him a little emotional.
Sam turns the page again, to one toward the end of the first part of the book. “Thirty-seven weeks. Your baby has learned a few new tricks this week, including inhaling, exhaling, sucking, and blinking. Combine that with the eyelashes from week twenty-six and Josh is certainly a goner.”
Donna doesn’t respond. Sam looks up from the book to find Donna, eyes closed and scrunched up. One of her hands rests on her belly, and the other is gripping the bed rail so tight her knuckles have gone white.
Sam drops the book and strides toward the bed. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He wonders for a moment if that’s the right thing to say, if it sounds trite or unhelpful somehow coming from a guy who will never be in her shoes and who isn’t her husband. He tries to remember what April suggested a few hours ago when he’d finally thought to ask, but the memories are hazy, like his brain is underwater.
Make sure she breathes.
Yes! Breathing. He knows anecdotally that breathing is important when one is having a baby, but he wouldn’t even begin to know how to help coach her to do so. Telling her to breathe would surely be condescending, given that she likely already knows all of this, too. He should have asked April exactly how to coach her.
Or maybe it’s in the book. Josh would know. He’s read the whole thing. Multiple times, if the condition of the book is any indication.
Sam half-heartedly murmurs a reminder to breathe, gently rubbing her upper back between her shoulder blades. It’s not helping, he knows it’s not, but he doesn’t know what else to do.
It really should be Josh doing this.
12:31 AM
Donna leans forward in the bed, bent at the waist as much as her belly will allow. She grips the blanket, trying to stay focused on her breathing. Sam had fallen asleep a little while ago, book still in hand. If she can help it she’d like to let him continue to sleep while the pain is still manageable. Her contractions are coming more consistently now, every eight minutes or so for the last half an hour. April came in to check on her a little while ago – she’s at four centimeters now, a fact that a delirious Sam misinterpreted this as April calling Donna “a four” – he’d argued that Donna was absolutely a ten until April was able to contain her giggles long enough to explain cervical dilation to an exhausted Sam.
This, as adorably Sam as it was, was why she banished Sam to the armchair in the corner of the room, ignoring his arguments that he wasn’t that tired. Donna had taken the opportunity to practice her ‘mom voice’, which got a laugh out of Sam, but he obliged. Sam was fast asleep in minutes.
When the contractions finally started, they were like period cramps – uncomfortable, annoying, but almost familiar. Now, it’s taking some effort to focus, to breathe through them. It’s been a slow, but gradual increase.
The pain eases again and Donna straightens, adjusting her hospital gown. She settles back into bed with some effort, careful to avoid the letters she’s been writing to the families of the Kennison State victims. She glances around for her pen, noting that it’s still sitting on the bed in the same spot where it was discarded in haste as the last contraction came on. It is now just out of her reach. She sighs, grabbing the sheets on the bed, hoping that if she pulled just so…
The pen clatters to the floor, and Sam stirs.
Donna holds her breath, watching to see if Sam will wake up. He turns over in the chair, and his soft snores start up again after a moment.
Donna shifts her attention back to her work. She hasn’t been able to get the students off of her mind, especially tonight. They were babies once, too – their parents probably eagerly awaited their arrival just like Josh and Donna have been for their baby. Her heart aches for the families they left behind. It’s a new cocktail of emotions, one she’s never experienced quite to this degree. She hopes she never has to.
The events at Kennison State are a reminder of how fragile life is. She’s so excited to meet her daughter, this little person who’s been growing inside her for the last nine months. But there’s a part of her that’s terrified to bring a baby into this world, knowing that Donna can’t protect her from everything. She’s already acutely aware that this baby only exists because of some otherworldly force, whether it be luck, or divine intervention, or something else entirely. It hits Donna sometimes, when Josh’s hand cradles her belly at night, or when their baby wiggles when she hears his voice. They were – are – so lucky.
It’s this thought that compels her to write to the families. She’s careful not to bring herself into it – the last thing they need is a reminder that she will (hopefully) have a happy and healthy baby soon, and they’ve lost theirs. But she wants them to know that someone is thinking of them.
She gets halfway through another letter before another contraction takes hold. Donna doesn’t bother moving out of the bed this time; she does, however, accidentally unmute the TV when she attempts to curl up onto her side. She can hear the sound of a Scrubs rerun somewhere in her pain-induced haze, and while she’s able to conjure up the thought that she should turn the TV off, she can’t bring herself to move.
“Donna!”
Sam’s awake now, at her side in an instant. Donna is vaguely aware of Sam’s gentle touch, almost feather-light between her shoulder blades. He’s treating her like she’s made of glass, liable to break at the slightest contact from him. It makes her miss Josh.
When the pain subsides, Donna lets out a puff of air, attempting to blow some hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” Sam says. “I really should stay awake for you anyway. What’s all this?” He motions to the letters on the bed, now crinkled in the center. She must have crushed them when the contraction started.
She’s going to have to start all over now. Donna looks up the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears she knows are about to fall. This is an overreaction, one of many she’s had at the tail end of her pregnancy. The other day, she cried over the fact that she couldn’t find her glasses. They were on her face the whole time. “They’re… letters to the families of the kids who were killed tonight.”
“Okay, we’re just going to put these over here for now.” Sam gathers up the stationery and moves it to the other side of the room with the rest of Donna’s things. “It’s sweet of you, but I think you have other things to focus on at the moment. I’m sure they’ll still be appreciated in a couple of weeks.”
“But I –”
“Donna,” Sam says. His tone is firm, but kind. “You’re doing too much. I let me help you type up that speech because you were feeling fine, but you’re actually having contractions now. If Josh found out…”
Donna pulls her hair back into a messy bun. “He knows how persistent I can be.”
“Of course he does,” Sam agrees. “But he still wouldn’t want you doing this here, now, when you have to save your energy.”
“I’m not running a marathon, Sam, I’m writing some letters. What’s the worst that can happen? A papercut? If I got writer’s cramp, it’s not like it’s going to be any worse than the contractions.”
“And if you can honestly tell me you’re not feeling the emotional weight of this today, of all days, I’ll let you get back to it.” Sam folds his arms over his chest.
It’s only a few moments later that Donna’s next contraction comes, effectively ending the argument.
“Talk to me,” Donna pleads, breathless.
“About what?”
“Anything, I don’t know.”
“I saw a list of names… sticking out from the back of the book. I looked at them a little while ago. Josh picked out some good ones. Sophia’s cute. Lucy. That’s a nice name. You don’t hear of many little girls named Lucy now.”
Donna lets out a half-moan, half-whine. This one feels worse than the last one. Is it worse than the last one? Or is she just losing stamina? The noise seems to prompt Sam to talk faster, desperate to do what is asked of him.
“My mother says she didn’t even consider a girl’s name for me. She says she knew I was a boy, and I was always going to be Samuel. I asked her if maybe she’d thought of Samantha, but… I just got a funny look. There hasn’t been a girl born into my family in… five generations? I think?” Sam says. “All boys. That’s probably why she knew I wasn’t going to be Samantha.”
The wave of pain subsides and Donna straightens up again. “Really?”
Sam nods. “She says it just made the whole process easier. Anyway. I like the names Josh chose.”
Josh and Donna had narrowed the search for the perfect name down to a respectable dozen or so choices, but had been unable to make a final decision. The plan was that they’d spend the early hours of Donna’s labor hashing it out, discussing the pros and cons of each choice and slowly whittling it down to what would ultimately be their daughter’s name.
Of course, the plan went out the window when Josh got stuck in Indiana and her water broke six days early. It’s practice for parenting, she supposes – they’ll make plans and their daughter will upend them, and all the while she’ll be glad she even has the chance to make some new ones.
But when Josh arrives, she’s going to make a case for Lucy.
2:21 AM
Donna’s much tougher than Sam has ever given her credit for.
She’s been offered an epidural twice now; she’s declined both times. Sam hasn’t asked, but thinks he knows why – the book says that sometimes labor can progress faster with an epidural, because it helps the mother relax.
Things started off slowly, but now Donna has to work hard to get through each contraction. Armed with a bit more information than he had a few hours ago due to a read of the most important parts of the book, he knows that it’s going to get even more difficult for Donna from here.
Sam’s cell phone rings just as yet another contraction ends for Donna. He ensures that Donna’s okay before he answers the phone. “Josh.”
“Hey,” Josh says. “How’s she doing?”
Donna’s just been hit with a bout of nausea. Sam had rapidly pressed the call button as soon as he realized what was happening, only for April to arrive and tell him that this was completely normal. Between that and the pain and the exhaustion, Donna’s going through a lot.
He doesn’t want to worry Josh, especially not when Josh is due to get on a plane in a couple of hours, so he opts for a supportive, but neutral answer. “She’s hanging in there. Never seen anything like it.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Hang on,” Sam says.
He hands the phone to Donna, immediately noticing how he watches her collect herself, pasting on a smile when she talks to him. “Hi,” she says. There’s a a pause as Donna idly rubs circles on her belly. “I’m doing okay.” There’s a pause, then her smile slowly turns into something much more genuine. “Yeah?”
Sam isn’t sure what’s happening on the other end of the line, but it seems to make Donna feel hopeful.
“Well, you said it yourself, the people at the diner said the picture was fuzzy,” Donna reasons. “We knew you’d be delayed. It’s okay. You’ll get here when you get here. What time do you take off?”
Sam doesn’t know how Donna does it, but she manages to stay upbeat and positive on the phone with Josh. It’s only a few moments before she ends the call and gives Sam his phone back, allowing her head to drop back to the pillows settled behind her. “He’s taking off soon,” Donna says.
“Good, that’s good. How are you doing?”
Donna gives Sam a weak smile. “I’ll be better once Josh gets here.”
Sam isn’t so sure Josh will get here in time. But he isn’t ready to burden Donna with the thought that her husband may not make it for the birth of their daughter, so he hands her a cup of ice chips and watches as she drops one into her mouth. Sam’s stomach growls, cutting through the heavy silence, and Donna laughs. “I have one more cannoli, you know.”
“Donna!” Of course Donna would hide yet another cannoli.
She grins. “It’s in my purse. I wrapped it in a few napkins. I was going to save it for a little treat for after the baby came.”
“I don’t want to –”
“Eat the cannoli, Sam,” Donna insists. “My purse is over there.”
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable going through your purse,” Sam replies, retrieving the purse and handing it to Donna. “I learned that lesson the hard way in Bozeman, Montana, when I assumed that CJ telling me she had some gum in her purse meant that it was okay to go get some from said purse.”
Donna rolls her eyes, but retrieves the napkin-wrapped cannoli from her purse anyway. “I was giving you explicit permission to go through my purse, but your gentlemanly response is noted and appreciated.”
Donna hands him the comically large wad of napkins, and Sam laughs. “What’s all this?”
“I was trying to make sure it wouldn’t get squished,” Donna explains. “I was also attempting to keep it fresh, but frankly even a stale cannoli sounds incredible right now.”
Sam begins to unwrap the cannoli from the napkin ball. “Donna, once the baby’s here, I’ll buy you as many fresh cannolis as you want.”
“Make it a coffee and you’ve got a deal,” Donna says. “I think you and I will both need it.”
“Sold.”
4:44 AM
“Nine centimeters,” April says, patting Donna’s leg and replacing the sheet. “I’m willing to bet baby comes before the end of my shift.”
Donna’s only a little surprised to hear that she’s nine centimeters dilated. According to April, Donna had hit a plateau at six centimeters, but over the last hour or so things have gotten more intense. “What time is shift change?” Sam asks.
“Seven. Is Josh on his way?”
“He got on the plane a little while ago,” Donna says. “The weather seems to have cleared up, but they had some maneuvering to do to get him on the earliest direct flight back.”
April nods. Donna knows the look on her face – it’s the same look she’s seen on the faces of countless doctors and nurses during Josh’s recovery. It’s the I need to tell you something you’re not going to like to hear face. “Well, I promised you at the beginning of all of this that I’d let you know if there was a concern I had, so I’m going to be honest with you. I think you’ll probably make it to ten sooner rather than later.”
Donna nods. “But there’s a chance I’ll stay at nine.”
“Of course,” April says. “I just wanted to prepare you. In my experience, this last part can go pretty quickly sometimes. I didn’t want you to be blindsided if it did.”
Donna appreciates April’s honesty. April has been a huge help in this process, especially with Josh not here to keep Donna calm and focused. Sam has been great, of course, but with absolutely no prior knowledge of this entire process, they have had to lean heavily on April to help navigate things.
Donna can feel Sam go stiff beside her. His hand tightens in hers, an unconscious response to April’s declaration. Donna thanks April, and April promises she’ll be close by if she’s needed.
When April exits the room, Sam turns to look at Donna. “Donna.”
She knows exactly what Sam’s going to say. “Sam. It’s fine. Josh will be here.”
Sam blinks. “Right, of course.” It’s an attempt to placate her. She knows that Sam’s been concerned the entire time that Josh won’t be home in time for the baby’s arrival. Sam Seaborn has many talents, but acting is not one of them. The worry has been etched in his face from the minute her water broke. He’s tried to be strong for her, and he’s been great for moral support. But she knows that Sam has already convinced himself, despite what he says, that Josh won’t make it.
“He will,” Donna says. “I know he will.”
“I know you do. But – if for some reason he doesn’t get here in time… I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be with you the entire time. If he doesn’t make it –”
“He will,” Donna says once again, this time through gritted teeth. She inhales, then lets out a long, whimpering exhale as another contraction hits. The pain is everywhere now – her back, her hips, her stomach. She barely has a chance to catch her breath before the next wave comes. Everything’s happening so fast.
But even though things are moving quickly there’s something deep inside of her, whether it’s instinct, some psychic connection with Josh, or just blind optimism, that tells her she’s right. He’s going to make it. Josh will burst through the door of her hospital room, come running to her bedside. He’ll check to see how she’s doing – maybe he’ll crack a joke, or badger April for an update – but whatever he does, he’s not going to leave her side. He’s going to be right there beside her when their daughter makes her way into this world.
She knows that Josh wouldn’t have it any other way.
6:12 AM
The door to Donna’s hospital room swings open just after six in the morning.
The closest she’s ever come to feeling this sort of relief was when finally, after fourteen hours of waiting and hoping and praying, Josh’s doctors told her that he had made it through surgery. She’d finally allowed herself to cry then, right on Sam’s shoulder.
Feels poetic that Sam’s here for this, too.
“Donna!” Josh darts over to Donna’s bedside, running right past Sam. Josh leans in to kiss her, and Donna reaches up to cup his face in her hands, pulling him closer. She can feel the stubble on his cheeks as she gently drags her thumbs across his cheekbones.
He breaks away, breathless, and pulls back just a little so he can look at her. He brushes some hair out of her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. “Hi,” he says, a lovestruck grin on his face that makes her heart flip.
“Hi.” She takes a moment to look him over, hands still on his cheeks. He’s a mess – his shirt is wrinkled, as though it had been washed and dried, but not ironed. One sleeve is rolled up higher than the other. His hair is sticking up in about a dozen different directions. The stubble she felt a few minutes ago is especially prominent. “You look awful.”
Josh laughs, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “You look incredible.”
Donna knows that’s not true. She wasn’t able to get all of the day’s makeup off of her face, her hair is a ratty, tangled mess, and she started sweating buckets shortly before Josh arrived. She’s been growing a human inside of her for nine months, and she’s going to bring that human into the world any minute now.
But she also knows that Josh means every word with such genuine sincerity – there’s simply no faking the way his whole face lit up the second he saw her. Donna pulls him close to kiss him again before she finally lets him go.
Josh turns to Sam, finally acknowledging his best friend. “Thank you, Sam. For… everything.”
“No problem,” Sam replies.
“Go home. Get some rest. I don’t wanna hear from you for the next twenty-four hours, at least,” Josh says.
“Are you kidding? I’m going to sit right out there in that waiting room until you come out and tell me I’m an uncle.”
“Will they even let you do that before visiting hours?” Josh asks.
Sam shrugs. “I think I’ve endeared myself to the nurses to the point where they’d make an exception for me.”
Just then, another contraction hits Donna like a freight train. Josh is at her side at an instant, his touch the perfect combination of gentle and firm. While in reality, she’s progressed too far for Josh’s efforts to do much for the pain, it’s his presence that buoys her more than anything. He’s here, he’s safe, and he’s going to be able to witness the birth of his daughter. She can do this.
The last few contractions, she’s started to feel a new sensation: the urge to push. She’s resisted it so far, but t’s stronger this time, and she has to work harder to focus on her breathing. She couldn’t be more grateful that Josh is here. Now, their daughter can arrive any time she wants.
When the contraction ends, Donna opens her eyes, expecting to see Josh wearing a terrified, heartbroken expression. She knows he hates seeing her in pain, and he’s just arrived at the hospital after missing what is likely the entirety of her labor. He’s had no time to ease into the process.
Instead, his smile is warm, gentle. He doesn’t look even the slightest bit rattled. “There you go,” he says, his tone impossibly soft. He lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles. “How are you doing?”
“Tired,” Donna admits. “I’ve been feeling like I need to push.”
“I’ll go get April and leave you to it,” Sam says from the corner of the room.
Josh and Sam meet in the middle of the room. Josh pulls Sam into a hug, then Sam heads toward Donna’s bed. He leans in kisses Donna on the cheek. “You’ve done a great job. Just a little bit longer.”
“Thank you,” Donna says. “Seriously, I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Sam gently squeezes her shoulder. “The pleasure was all mine.”
8:32 AM
“Sam.”
Sam blinks, then rubs his eyes as he forces himself to sit up. Physically, he can feel the exhaustion catching up to him. It’s settled deep in his bones, and every inch of him feels heavy, sore. But when he orients himself, his heart starts to race with anticipation.
He had gone to find April to tell her that Josh had arrived and that Donna was likely ready to deliver the baby. April had told him to feel free to hang out in the waiting area if he wanted to. He remembers spotting the small couch he’s sitting on, but he must have fallen asleep right away because that’s the last thing he remembers.
“What time is it?” Sam asks.
Josh checks his watch. “A little after eight-thirty.”
“In the morning?” It’s a dumb question, but he asks it before he has a chance to stop himself.
Josh laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, in the morning.”
Sam studies Josh for a moment. He’s beaming. Sam’s seen Josh at his highest highs and his lowest lows, but he’s never seen an expression quite like this. It’s indescribable. Even his energy has shifted. Josh’s usually frenetic energy is more calm, subdued, but in an almost assured way. “Is Donna okay?”
“She’s great.”
“Is – is the baby here?”
“Yeah,” Josh says. “Got here twenty minutes after I did. She’s – perfect.”
Sam can’t help but notice the tear in Josh’s eye as he confirms that his daughter has arrived. He sits down next to Sam, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Thanks again for staying with Donna. I wish I could have been there.” There’s a tiny hint of pain in Josh’s voice, like he feels as though he’s let Donna down.
“Josh.”
“I don’t – when she asks me to tell her about the day she was born, I’m going to have to tell her that I wasn’t there with her mom. I was in Indiana, missing the motorcade, running out of gas, taking the wrong train, and getting stuck in a monsoon.”
“I’ll help tell that story as many times as you want me to,” Sam teases.
Josh doesn’t say anything. Sam knows that Josh carries a lot of guilt for things that aren’t his fault; it’s just his way. But if he can help it, he’s not going to let Josh feel guilty for this one.
“You know, Donna never doubted for a second that you’d get here in time,” Sam says after a few moments of silence.
Josh turns to look at him. “Yeah?”
Sam shakes his head. “I tried to have a conversation with her about what would happen if you didn’t make it. I was going to tell her that I’d stay with her, of course, that I wasn’t going to let her do this alone. I couldn’t even finish my sentence. She cut me off. She just… knew you were going to be here. And you were.”
Josh sits up. “I was almost certain I was going to walk in to find Donna holding the baby.”
“But you didn’t. You were here for the most important part, Josh. When you tell your daughter the story of the day she was born, that’s what she’s going to care about. You’ll – you’ll tell her how even though you missed the motorcade, and ran out of gas, and took the wrong train, and got stuck in a monsoon… you did it all to be there for her and her mom. And you got here just in time.”
Josh’s expression softens a bit. “You wanna… come meet the baby?” he asks, tilting his head toward the hallway.
Sam freezes. “You want me to meet her?”
“What, did you think that we’d let someone else be the first person to meet her after everything you did? Come on.” Josh stands and takes a few steps toward the hallway.
“I don’t know how to hold a baby,” Sam blurts, a confession he feels the need for Josh to hear before Josh trusts him with his daughter.
“Well, if you drop her on her head, we’ll make sure to let her know that’s why she is the way she is.” Sam lets out an involuntary yelp in response to Josh’s quip, and Josh laughs. “Come on. We’ll be there the whole time.” Josh leads Sam down a hall and around a corner, and before Sam knows it, he’s walking in to Donna’s hospital room.
Donna’s looking down at the tiny baby in her arms, radiating with happiness. When she hears Josh and Sam enter, she looks up at them. “Hey, Uncle Sam.”
“Well, that’s a little on the nose for three people who work in politics, isn’t it?” Sam jokes.
“Take it up with your mother,” Donna says, referring back to their earlier conversation.
Josh instructs Sam to sit down on the couch, then transfers the baby from her mother to Sam’s arms. Josh makes some tiny adjustments to Sam’s hold on the baby, then steps back toward Donna’s bed.
The baby’s so small, and so pink. He searches her tiny features to attempt to match them up to those of her parents, but he can’t quite identify any distinct features that belong to Josh or Donna. Instead, he finds himself captivated by the way she wrinkles her nose, the way her mouth makes a tiny, perfect ‘o’ when she yawns.
“This is Lucy,” Donna says. “She’ll be glad to know that her Uncle Sam named her.”
Sam resists the urge to protest, to tell Donna that no, he didn’t name her, all he did was pick from a list of names Josh and Donna already made. But the look on Donna’s face is so genuine, so full of pride and love, that he’s not going to argue with her.
Lucy is only a couple of hours old, and he’s already thinking about the role he’ll play in her life. He’s never been particularly intrigued by the idea of having kids of his own, and he’s never been around babies for any significant length of time. But he already feels a connection to Lucy, a bond that he’s never felt with anyone before.
“Well, if she goes through that little kid phase of hating her name, I’ll be sure to help her pick a new one,” Sam says.
He looks at Josh, searching for any lingering signs of doubt or hesitation, but he doesn’t see any. Josh mouths a quick thank you to Sam, and Sam just nods in response.
Between the three of them, they’ll be able to tell Lucy an incredible story of the day she was born.