cont'd

He turns the corner into the room, entering suitcase first to avoid even the smallest doubt that he doesn’t actually have it with him. There is talking; a conversation. His wife is sitting up and smiling. There are no beeps. “Is everything alright?” he asks. “And here must be the daddy,” is the reply. He only now notices that the two nurses in the room are not named Sadie. The one who speaks is a petite dark woman with a mound of tightly curled locks atop her head. She wears purple scrubs and eye shadow to match. Her name is Dawn. Dawn holds out her hand, flashes a big smile, and says, “Congratulations Daddy!” Steve shakes her hand. She pats him on the shoulder.
Another nurse stands in front of the now silent heartbeat monitors. “Everything looks good,” she says. “We’ll go and call your doctor.” This nurse is named Jane. She is tall and broad. Jane intimidates most people until they see her smile and hear her voice; these are always successful at putting new acquaintances at ease. Her scrubs match Dawn’s, but she wears no makeup. Her hair is long and braided tightly down to a point between her shoulder blades. Steve likes these nurses much better. “Do you want me to turn the monitor volume back up? Or we could just monitor it from out in the hall,” Jane says. “It’s fine how it is,” Cheryl says. Jane and Dawn leave the room, shutting the door on their way out. “These are so much better than those other two,” Steve says. His wife nods in agreement. “Did you ask for new people?” “No,” Cheryl replies. “Just the shift change.”