Chapter 2 - The Porch Light
The torrential rain hit my bare arms like needles. Mud splashed across the hem of my silk gown as I dragged my swollen, aching body down the dark private driveway.
Every step sent waves of sharp, rhythmic contractions through my lower abdomen. My vision blurred with rain and tears, the streetlights spinning in haloed circles.
Three houses down stood a warm, amber glow on a wrap-around wooden porch.
Mrs. Clara Greene.
A retired seventy-two-year-old nurse whose husband had been a prominent surgeon before passing away, Mrs. Greene was the only neighbor who had ever treated me with genuine kindness in this hostile gated community.
I stumbled up her wooden steps, my knees buckling as I reached the heavy oak door.
I raised a trembling fist.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
My strength completely gave out. I collapsed against the railing, sliding onto the wet wooden boards, clutching my stomach as darkness began encroaching on my peripheral vision.
The deadbolt clicked open.
"Good heavens! Elena?!" Mrs. Greene’s voice cried out in horror.
Mrs. Greene didn't ask questions. She dropped to her knees, wrapping a thick wool blanket around my shivering frame, and pulled me inside the warm, lavender-scented foyer.
"Call... Dr. Marcus Vance," I wheezed, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. "Chief of Obstetrics... at St. Jude Memorial... tell him Elena... is in labor."
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Mrs. Greene grabbed her landline, her voice steady and resolute as she dialed 911 and dialed the private direct line for Dr. Vance.
"Hang on, sweetheart," Mrs. Greene whispered, placing warm towels under my head. "You and your baby are safe now."
