The remembrance brought renewed chills to Stacy's skin. Her chills suddenly turned to heat waves when it dawned on her that she was in her pajamas. Her feet were bare and they began to throb almost on cue when she realized the fact."My goodness child, we need to hurry then!" The old man replied as he stepped even harder on the gas pedal. "My name's Paul, by the way."
"I'm Stacy and this is Tiffany." She answered as she nudged the bundle in her arms upward a bit.
"That's a pretty name."
"Yes it is. My husband picked it out." She said in a soft, gravely tone. The bitter sadness would've been obvious to anyone listening.
"Where is your husband? Shouldn't he be the one taking you to the hospital?" Paul asked.
"My husband was killed in Iraq almost two years ago. I was still pregnant when it happened." She chose her words carefully and talked loud so that he could catch what she was saying. She wouldn't tell him what her husband had done...
"I'm sorry, that must've been hard on you, being pregnant and all." The old man apologized.
"It's fine, you couldn't have known." They had just passed a blue and white hospital sign on the right side of the road and the sight caused Stacy to breathe a huge sigh of relief. "We're almost there!"
"Yes we are. I hope your baby is okay." He retorted as he turned into the entrance of the hospital. His shock of white hair was overly long and he looked like he hadn't slept in ages.
"If I may ask, why are you out so late?"