Doctor Turned Alpha

#1

"Ready?" Lily asked, holding the lid.

Diane nodded, her heart thumping faster than a hummingbird's wings. I took her hand, squeezing it gently. Everyone in the yard began counting down.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

Lily lifted the lid. And suddenly – Blue butterflies burst into the sky.

Tiny paper butterflies fluttered everywhere, shimmering in the sunlight as they danced on the wind. Real bubbles floated up from hidden machines, catching the light in swirls of blue. Gasps and cheers filled the yard.

"It's a BOY!" Diane shouted, her eyes a bit teary. I jumped in excitement; I had always wanted a boy. I never got to know my own dad for a father-and-son hangout, but at least I could experience that with my son.

The cherry blossoms kept falling like confetti as everyone clapped, hugged us, and shouted congratulations from all directions.

"I'm going to have a godson!" Lily said. "Have you guys thought of names?"

"Yeah, a few," Diane said to her friend, making me roll my eyes playfully. She had actually made a long list of both boy and girl names. I understood her excitement, though, since it was our first child.

"Yo! My man Xavier!" Harry called from the porch as he walked in. "Congrats, buddy." He handed me a wrapped gift.

"Thank you," I said, placing the gift with the others we had received. I couldn't help but ask, "Why were you late for the reveal?"

"Had an important meeting," Harry answered with a shrug.

I remarked, "Lily really pulled off this baby shower." I spotted my mother chatting and stuffing her face with cake next to Diane's mom.

"How many months are left before she gives birth?" Harry asked.

"She's actually due this month," I told him. "I'm going to be a father soon, and it makes me nervous."

Harry took two bottles of cider from the cooler and passed one to me.

"Don't be scared of anything, you're going to be a great dad. When Lily and I had our first child, it wasn't easy, but we made it through," Harry consoled me as we walked toward a pair of empty chairs. "We never expected to be blessed with twins. Handling two babies as first-time parents was no joke."

My eyes wandered over to the twins, who were currently fighting over a slice of cake while their mother scolded them. Next to them stood a laughing Diane. For a moment, our eyes met across the yard.

"But next month, they'll both be six years old," Harry laughed. It felt like just yesterday he had met Lily in high school. At first, she had behaved strangely, always talking about a pack house and her family of werewolves, which Harry had found amusing. But after a year or two-by the time I met Diane in college-she had stopped telling those weird stories.

Diane's dad walked over to us and said, "Xavier, help me set up the chairs for the game, will ya?"

I stood up, gulping down the rest of my drink as I followed my father-in-law into the house. I brought out five chairs and arranged them in a circle.

"Alright, everyone. I need six people for this game," Lily announced. "These six people will dance around the chairs to the music, and when the music stops, the last person left standing is out!"

"First up will be the father-to-be," Lily said, ushering a reluctant me toward the circle. "Next will be Harry and Mr. Peter."

Everyone in the yard cheered loudly for the players.

"We should have some ladies too." Lily looked around, her eyes briefly settling on her older brother, Mark, who was acting as the DJ. Then she walked up to my mom and Diane's mom. "Mrs. Rose and Ms. Mary!"

Mark began to play the music as Lily chose one of the neighbors to complete the circle.

•••

Some weeks later, I was sitting in my home office assessing a few patient files. These were cases that required quarantine or severe conditions that would involve surgery. Each patient's illness determined which ward they would be assigned to.

The previous week, one of my doctors had resigned to relocate to a new town, so I needed to hire someone new. The hospital pharmacy also required a restock of medications. I pushed a stack of papers to the corner of my desk and pulled out a fresh set of files.

"You're not asleep?" Diane asked, walking into the room.

I looked up at her as she stood in the doorway, a smile tugging at my lips as my eyes found hers.

"I have a lot of work to finish tonight," I said, turning my attention back to the documents. "I'll come to bed in a few hours."

"But, my darling, you look exhausted," she said truthfully, observing me closely. She reached out and took my hand in hers.

I reached my other hand under her pajama shirt to rub her lower back comfortingly. "Your body feels warm."

"I've been feeling very feverish lately, and my cramps are getting worse by the minute," she told me, leaning against the edge of my desk.

"Don't sit on the desk. Come, sit in my chair," I told Diane, standing up to let her take my seat. She looked completely wiped out, a faint tension gripping the corners of her eyes-a tension I knew all too well from my years in the clinic.

I unzipped my canvas medical kit and pulled out my manual sphygmomanometer and stethoscope. While digital monitors were easier, I always trusted my own ears more, especially when it came to my wife.

I sat on the edge of the desk beside her and unrolled the dark blue nylon cuff. "Left arm, please."

Diane offered a faint smile and extended her arm, resting it on my thigh so it was level with her heart. Working efficiently, I wrapped the cuff snugly around her upper arm, ensuring the arrow aligned perfectly with her brachial artery, and fastened the Velcro with a crisp, familiar rip.

"Your pulse is a bit fast," I noted softly, my thumb gently sweeping over her inner elbow to locate her pulse point.

"Just anxious," Diane admitted, her breath catching slightly. "Work has been... a lot."

"I know. Just try to breathe for me. Close your eyes."

I adjusted the stethoscope prongs into my ears and placed the cold metallic diaphragm against the crook of her arm. With my other hand, I gripped the rubber bulb, tightening the valve with a quick flick of my thumb.

I began to pump. Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

The needle on the circular gauge danced upward, climbing past 120, 140, and stopping at 160 mmHg. Diane's arm tightened slightly under the pressure of the inflating bladder. I gave her knee a reassuring squeeze with my free hand.

Slowly and meticulously, I cracked the valve open. The air escaped in a tiny, controlled hiss, and the needle on the gauge began its smooth, rhythmic descent. My entire focus shifted to the sounds traveling through the rubber tubing.

Thump.

The first sharp, clear sound hit my ears at exactly 134. I noted the number mentally-her systolic pressure was a bit high, but expected given her stress. The rhythmic thumping continued as the needle ticked downward... thump, thump, thump... growing muffled until it finally faded into complete silence.

Silence at 86.

I opened the valve completely, letting the remaining air rush out as the cuff deflated fully. I peeled the Velcro apart and laid the equipment down.

"134 over 86," I said, sliding the stethoscope down around my neck.

Diane opened her eyes, looking at me searchingly. "Is that terrible?"

I smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It's a little elevated, but nothing we can't manage."

"The baby has been moving a lot lately," she said, squeezing my hand tightly as she held her stomach. Suddenly, she gritted her teeth and winced in agony, gripping the edges of the chair. She screamed, "Ah! Xavier!"

As if on cue, a sudden, powerful contraction gripped her. Diane groaned, burying her face in her hands.

I knelt next to her and caressed her head. "Just breathe." I reached down toward her lap and noticed her pajamas felt soaked.

"Your water broke," I said, staring at the puddle forming on the floor and the wet chair cushion.

She managed to gasp out, "Hurry... get the baby bag!"

"Okay. Okay, breathe, darling. I've got you," I said, trying to anchor my voice despite the sudden surge of adrenaline. I rushed to the doorway, throwing it open to the dimly lit corridor. "Maria! Thomas! Wake up!"

Within moments, the quiet house erupted into controlled chaos. Maria, the head housekeeper, appeared at the top of the stairs, tying her apron with practiced efficiency. Thomas, the butler, was right behind her, already buttoning his vest.

"Maria, the baby is coming. Get the overnight bag from the closet," I ordered, my voice echoing down the hall. "Thomas, pull the car around to the front entrance. Call the hospital and tell the midwife to get ready for us!"

"Right away, sir," Thomas said, pivoting instantly toward the stairs.

I rushed back into the office. Diane was breathing through another wave of pain, her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest. Maria slipped into the room, her calm demeanor a stabilizing force. She gently wiped Diane's damp forehead with a cool cloth while I helped my wife slide her feet into slippers.

"You're doing beautifully, ma'am," Maria murmured reassuringly, helping me support Diane's weight as we guided her to her feet.

Together with Maria, we carefully navigated the wide staircase. At the bottom, Thomas held the heavy mahogany front doors wide open. Outside, the car was idling, its headlights cutting through the misty night air.

I eased Diane into the plush back seat, sliding in right beside her to hold her hand while Maria packed the bags i

nto the trunk. As Thomas shifted the car into drive and accelerated down the driveway, I pulled Diane close, ready for the journey ahead.