On Thanksgiving, My Husband Left Me 7 Months Pregnant at a Highway Rest Stop novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Trooper

A state trooper who saw the SUV leave finds Piper on the plaza floor and follows the ambulance, Garrett texts that she embarrassed his mother, and the doctor says the baby comes tonight.

The woman with the stroller was the first one to reach me.

She dropped her coffee, put an arm around my back, and shouted for someone to call 911.

I sat on the food court floor with my knees pulled up and a stranger holding my hand.

Somebody brought napkins. Somebody else brought a folded jacket and put it under my head.

Nobody asked me anything except whether I was all right.

I thought of Garrett's two hours and almost laughed.

The trooper came in through the sliding doors about four minutes later, with sleet melting on his hat.

He was tall, and he knelt on the wet tile without looking at his knees.

"Ma'am, I'm Trooper Kessler. Medics are eleven minutes out. How far along are you?"

"Thirty weeks." My voice came out thin. "My water broke. I'm early."

"Okay. You're doing fine. Is there someone I should call?"

"My husband."

"Is he here?"

"He drove away."

He didn't say anything for a second.

"Gray SUV, black roof rack, Ohio plates?" he asked. "Left the awning about fifteen minutes ago."

I stared at him.

"I was pulling into the lot. I saw a woman get out of the passenger side and the car leave." He said it flatly. "I wasn't close enough to read the plate."

"That was me," I said. "He told me to wait two hours."

The trooper's jaw moved once.

He pulled out a notepad and took my name, my husband's name and his phone number, and the name of the exit we had passed.

"Piper Ashby," I said. "Garrett Tolliver. He went back for his ex-girlfriend. Her rental car broke down."

"Did he say that?"

"His mother said she was having a panic attack."

He wrote it down without changing a word.

Then the next pain took my breath, and he put his hand under mine and let me crush it.

The medics came through the doors with a gurney and a bag.

They asked if I had insurance, and I said my card was in my bag.

They asked where my bag was.

"In the trunk of the car my husband left in."

The younger medic looked at the older one.

The trooper stood up.

"I'll follow you in," he said. "She'll need someone to vouch for her at the desk. Go."

The ambulance ride was eleven minutes with a heart monitor beeping at me.

The emergency room was a long hall of curtains and nurses holding clipboards.

A woman in purple scrubs asked for my insurance card, my ID and my emergency contact.

I had none of them.

I had a phone at six percent and a scarf that smelled like Marjorie's perfume.

I pulled it off and dropped it on the floor.

"I can give you my name and birthday," I said. "That's all I have."

"That's fine, hon. We'll sort the paperwork later."

"I'll sign whatever you need."

The trooper had come in behind us, hat in his hand, rain on his shoulders.

He told the nurse who he was, and that he'd found me at the plaza, and that she was welcome to call his post if anyone had doubts.

Then he asked me quietly if he could put his number in my phone.

"I'm not going to disappear on you," he said. "I want to know what the baby does."

I handed him the phone.

He typed in his name and a number and handed it back.

Jonas Kessler.

A doctor in a paper gown came through the curtain.

She listened to my stomach, then looked at a monitor, then at a nurse.

"Your cervix is already at five centimeters," she said. "This isn't going to stop."

"It's too early," I said.

"I know. We'll have a neonatal team in the room."

My phone buzzed against the bed rail.

It was Garrett.

"Where are you? We're back at the plaza and you're not here. Mom is in tears. You walked off in front of everybody just to make a point."

Another message came right behind it.

"Call my mother and apologize before Dad's dinner on Saturday. I mean it, Piper. Don't make this a thing."

I read both of them once.

I did not write back.

The doctor was looking at me.

"Is there anyone coming?" she asked. "Your husband? Family?"

"No."

"Then I need your consent for a cesarean in case the baby turns. Tonight."

I took the pen from her.

My hand was shaking so hard I had to hold my wrist with the other one.

I wrote my own name on the line.

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