Danielle Steel - The Apartment

“You’re going to feel a lot better in a few minutes when we get a line in,” Sasha reassured her, as the anesthesiologist on duty walked into the room. By sheer luck, he had been just down the hall in another labor room. He prepped her for the epidural, as she continued to cry with the pains, and fifteen minutes later, which seemed like an eternity to her, she was smiling in relief. They could see the contractions on the monitor, but she felt none of them, and her younger husband looked relieved. He had seemed panicked when Sasha walked into the room. She had a wonderful way of calming her patients, and making them feel like everything was under control. She made solid, rapid, good decisions, and her bedside manner was excellent. All of the doctors she had trained with were impressed with her. Now she had to decide whether to do a cesarean section or let her deliver vaginally. The babies’ heartbeats were strong although they were four weeks early, and there was a good argument for letting them come through the birth canal naturally in order to induce them to breathe.

She consulted the couple about their options, and they wanted to avoid a C-section if possible. The chief resident came in and endorsed the decision, and they rolled the gurney she was on down the hall to the delivery room, with the anesthesiologist following them, a labor nurse, the babies’ father, and two other doctors who had appeared since they were twins. And once in the delivery room, there were two pediatricians waiting for them too, and Sasha noticed that one of them was the doctor she had nearly knocked down as she ran out of the elevator. She realized that he was a resident too, from neonatal ICU, since the twins were technically premature. But twins at thirty-six weeks were a fairly normal occurrence, and the fetal monitors attached to the mother’s belly and internally told them that the babies were doing well.

They lightened up on the epidural so she could push effectively, and she started to scream again and said it was too much pain.

“Let’s get those babies out then, and this will be all over,” Sasha said easily as she kept a firm eye on what was going on. There was a sense of heightened tension and anticipation in the room, as she told the mother when to push, and all she should do was cry and scream. Sasha knew they were looking at a C-section if the delivery took too long, to avoid undue stress to the babies, and she got firm and strong in her commands to push, while offering sympathy for the pain, and then a head appeared between the woman’s legs, and with a quick sure movement, Sasha delivered the shoulders and the body, and a little girl emerged crying loudly, as the mother laughed through her tears, and then started to scream again as the nurses took the first twin away and handed her to the pediatric resident, who checked her carefully, while Sasha delivered the second twin, who was bigger and harder to maneuver than the first. But a moment later, the boy was out too, both umbilical cords had been cut, and the babies appeared to be healthy and undamaged and were breathing well, although they would be closely watched and kept in an incubator for a few days. They were a good size at five pounds each, which was a healthy weight for twins born at thirty-six weeks.

Everything had gone well, and Sasha could feel the tension ease from the room as husband and wife kissed each other, looking thrilled and relieved. The mother was allowed to hold her babies and put them to her breast for a moment, before they were taken to the neonatal ICU, tested further, and put in an incubator together. Sasha congratulated the couple, and did some minor repair work to the mom after the babies left the room. They had given the mother something to sedate her, and she was shaking violently from what she’d just been through, which was normal too.

Sasha made easy conversation with her, as she did some stitches. “Did I tell you I’m a twin? I have an identical twin named Valentina. You’re going to have a lot of fun with your babies.” She went on chatting with her to distract her from what she was doing, and after they took her vital signs, they wheeled her to a recovery room to observe her, and then she would go back to her own room. Sasha left her with the nurses in the recovery room and said she would come to see her tomorrow, and congratulated her again.

Her husband was in the NICU with their babies, and the mother drifted off to sleep with the sedation. Sasha went to get a cup of coffee in the doctors’ lounge, and was just taking a sip when the resident from the NICU walked in, also looking for coffee. They were both exhilarated by the successful birth. It was three o’clock in the morning, and the time had flown.

“How are they?” Sasha asked to follow up, since he had examined the babies more thoroughly than she had.

“Perfect.” He smiled at her. “You did a good job. I thought for sure we were going to wind up with a C-section when she wouldn’t push, but you finessed it nicely.”

“Thank you. Sorry I almost knocked you down when I got here. I wasn’t paying attention, and I wanted to get there before she delivered. It took a little longer than I thought it would. I didn’t mean to send you flying.”

“I don’t think you could have.” He laughed. He was solidly built with powerful shoulders and a lot taller than she was. “But you gave it a hell of a try,” he teased her. “I played football in college.”

“I’m glad it all went so nicely,” she said, relaxed. They both knew that wasn’t always the case, and it was heartbreaking when that happened. She had been at deliveries before where the baby died during the delivery, or was stillborn. It was the part of her work she hated. But tonight had been exciting and fun, with a good result. “We did triplets earlier this week. That was pretty scary. You missed that one,” Sasha said easily.

“I heard about it. I was off. Once in a while that happens, but not often.” She laughed, knowing exactly what he meant.

“I was on call tonight, having dinner with friends, when they told me to come in,” she said, while he assumed she’d been on a date. A woman with her looks could have been out every night, he thought to himself.

“Lucky for me they did,” he said honestly, smiling at her, as she headed for the lockers to change back into the clothes she’d worn to dinner. “I hope we get to work together again.” She disappeared through the swinging doors to the lockers and he didn’t see her before she left. He said something to one of the nurses on duty when he went to check on the twins. “That was some hot resident on the delivery tonight,” he said with a grin, and the nurse laughed at him. She knew Sasha well.

“Don’t get too excited,” the nurse warned him.

“Married?” He was instantly disappointed, but it wouldn’t have surprised him. Most of the doctors he worked with were married. Some lucky guy might have snatched her up.

“She doesn’t date anyone here. She does her work, and she doesn’t fool around. She’s a serious woman. I’ve never even seen her chatting with the guys.”

“Maybe she has a boyfriend,” he said, looking dejected.

“I don’t know what her story is, but whatever it is, she’s not telling. She’s great to work with, but she never gets personal with anyone.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for her,” he said, suddenly feeling tired as the tensions of the evening melted away, and he realized he didn’t know her name and asked the nurse.

“Sasha Hartman. Good luck,” she said with a twinkle in her eye, and a moment later the resident from the NICU left the building too. His name was Alex Scott, and Sasha hadn’t given him another thought as she got back to the loft and climbed into bed. Her only thought was that it had been a good night’s work, and before that she had had fun at Max’s restaurant with her friends. She didn’t need or want more than that.

As he had promised he would, Max cooked dinner at the loft on Sunday night. He brought all the ingredients from the restaurant, and made two kinds of pasta, a big salad, and steaks for everyone. He had brought several loaves of French bread, freshly baked focaccia, half a dozen different cheeses, and a chocolate cake that had been baked that afternoon. Everyone was in good spirits, and gathered around the kitchen while he cooked. Morgan and Claire set the table. Oliver opened the wine to let it breathe. Greg made dressing for the salad. Abby was there, but Ivan had his meeting with the accountant, and was planning to read Daphne Blake’s play after that, so he didn’t come. And Sasha came home from work right before they sat down, and joined them wearing the familiar blue scrubs. Greg had put some music on, and the atmosphere was festive as Max poured the wine, and Morgan set the plates down at each place piled with food. It was a feast, and the kind of Sunday evening they all loved. They laughed and talked a lot. It was a family gathering of good people, good feelings in the home they loved. Abby seemed a little tense at first without Ivan, but she relaxed after her second glass of wine, and since she wasn’t on call that night, Sasha drank too.

“Where’s Valentina?” someone called out from the other end of the table, and Sasha answered.

“She’s still in St. Bart’s with a new guy. He’s French.”

“And rich,” Morgan added, and everybody laughed. She was sitting next to Max, and he put an arm around her as she thanked him for dinner. It was delicious, and they ate everything.

Claire made coffee for those who wanted it, and Abby served it. Everyone pitched in, it was a perfect evening, and at midnight, Oliver and Greg left. Greg had early practice the next day, and Oliver had to take an important client to Good Morning America at seven A.M. The others lingered for a while, and Claire and Sasha did the dishes, while everyone else sat and talked. No one wanted it to end. And after they all thanked Max for bringing the food and doing the cooking, he and Morgan went to bed. She had to be up early the next day too.

They disappeared into her room, and talked quietly, sitting on the bed. He loved spending nights with her there, although he teased her about it and said it was like sleeping in a girls’ dorm, but he loved the warm, welcoming atmosphere. It felt like a home, not just an apartment shared by four women. It made him sorry sometimes that he and Morgan didn’t live together, but he knew he could stay with her anytime he wanted to, and he usually did two or three times a week, but they both liked having time on their own too, and they both had busy lives, and jobs that demanded a lot of them.

He lay down on the bed and beckoned to her. “Come lie next to me.” They hadn’t been alone all night, and in the sanctuary of her room, he wanted to make love to her. She had the same thing in mind. After four years together, they often didn’t have the opportunity during the week, or weren’t in the mood if they got together late at night after he left the restaurant, but Sunday nights were special for them, when the stresses of their work week were forgotten, and they could just be two people who loved each other, and had the time to do something about it.

They lay in each other’s arms afterward, and a few minutes later, he was sound asleep, as she smiled at him. He was such a good man. She didn’t know how she’d been lucky enough to find him, but she knew it was a blessing that she had. She and Oliver had both been lucky with their partners, and they had created the kind of relationships they wanted, which were nothing like what they’d seen when they were growing up. Her life with Max was perfect just the way it was, and the loft in Hell’s Kitchen was her home, the women she lived with the sisters she’d never had. Max understood how much that meant to her, and he no longer tried to change it. He accepted her as she was, independent, hardworking, successful, kind to him, and phobic about marriage.

—

In the living room, Claire and Abby were sitting on the couch, and Abby had admitted to her that she was worried about Ivan, and told her about Daphne Blake and her play.

“I know he wouldn’t cheat on me, but she’s all over him, and she’s so young, and she has a rich father who wants to back a play. What if she traps him somehow? You know how men are. They’re so naïve.” Claire thought Ivan was anything but naïve, but she didn’t say it to Abby, and tried to reassure her as best she could, without saying what she thought of him again.

“You’re not exactly old, for God’s sake,” Claire said, sounding frustrated at how unaware Abby was of her many virtues, and Ivan’s equally numerous flaws, dishonesty being at the top of the list. She was sure that Ivan was lying to her about the girl, but she didn’t want to upset Abby. “She’s five years younger than you are, and who cares if she has a rich father? Ivan is in love with you.”