My eyelids were heavy from a long shift, and it was late when I drove off the highway. Something was on the side of the road up ahead. My headlights flashed across it, and I noticed a woman gesturing feebly.
My doctor instincts kicked in and I slowed down. She wore a vibrant scarf over her head and had a youthful appearance. The hues and patterns of her flowing garment nearly shone in the car’s lights. She appeared to be a traveling performance or a fortune teller at a festival.
“Help me,” she gasped as I got out and approached.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, moving closer.
She shook her head, wincing. “No… not hurt. I—” she grimaced, clutching her stomach. “It’s my baby… she’s coming…”
It took me a second to process, but then I saw the unmistakable signs. She was in labor, and the contractions looked close.
“Alright, stay calm,” I said, kneeling beside her. “I’m a doctor. Let’s get you through this, okay?”
I looked around, but there was no one nearby. It had been years since my residency that I had given birth to a child. I had to do something, though. There was no time to take her elsewhere.
“What is your name?” Trying to calm her down, I asked.
She muttered, “Miranda,” and then let out a cry as she felt another wave of agony.
She grabbed my hand and squeezed firmly as the contractions accelerated. I walked her through each one, encouraging her to maintain her concentration. Before long, I could see the crowning of the baby’s head.
“Almost there, Miranda,” I said. “One more big push. You’ve got this.”
She took a deep breath, pushed, and moments later, I held a tiny, squirming newborn in my hands. The baby let out a weak cry, and I felt a rush of relief. Wrapping the little girl in the towel, I handed her to Miranda.
I took a deep breath, glancing around the empty road. “Do you need to get to a hospital?”
“No,” she snapped back, her gaze flitting. “I mean… I don’t I am unable to visit a hospital. I… I broke up with my hubby. She paused, as though she was picking her words carefully. He was not nice to me at all. I took off running. I fear that the hospital may expose me.
Sensing she was withholding information, I nodded. “All right. Have you got a place to go?
She looked down at her infant and shook her head gently, her face displaying a mix of love and terror. “No. I simply I believed I would figure things out. However, the baby was born early.
For a moment, I hesitated. I lived alone with my six-year-old daughter after my wife passed away from cancer. Just us and our nanny. But this woman… she needed help.
“I have a guest room,” I said, hearing the words leave my mouth before I’d really thought it through. “You and your daughter can stay for a few days. Just until you get back on your feet. Then, you will have to go to the hospital.”
Miranda’s eyes filled with tears, and she managed a small smile. “Really? I… I don’t know what to say.”
With a comforting nod, I answered, “Thank you will do.” “Let us get you both out of the cold, please.”
When I got back to my house, I showed Miranda where she and her infant may sleep in the guest room. She was holding her baby and looking about the spacious room, looking appreciative but obviously tired.
“I worked at fairs once,” she said. Palm readings, fortune telling, and the like. Although it was not much, it helped to keep food on the table.
I nodded, listening as she shared small pieces of her life. She had a quiet, calm voice, with a hint of sadness. She didn’t say much about her past, but enough that I understood the situation was complicated.
Eventually, she finished her sandwich, and I could see her eyelids growing heavy.
“You should get some rest,” I said, keeping my tone gentle. “You’ve been through a lot tonight.”
The next morning, I got up early to check on my daughter, who was still recovering from her broken leg. But when I opened her bedroom door, her bed was empty. A quick rush of panic went through me.
“Sarah?” I called, scanning the room.
No answer.
My pulse was pounding as I looked in the kitchen, the living room, and the hallway, but she was not there. With an odd sensation forming in the pit of my stomach, I finally made my way to Miranda’s room.
Before opening the door, I gave it a gentle knock. With the curtains drawn, the interior of the room was dark. Miranda was perched on the side of the bed when I noticed her in the soft light.
My daughter was soundly asleep next to her, and Miranda’s baby was sleeping next to them. Sarah was resting her head in Miranda’s hand, which was singing softly.“What are you doing?” My voice broke a little as I asked.
Her eyes soft, she pointed a finger to her lips motioning for me to keep silent and Miranda put a finger to her lips. I quickly brushed a loose hair from my daughter’s foretedr and whispered, “I wasn’t trying to worry you…”
I took a breath, willing myself to calm down. “What… happened? Why is Sarah in here?”
Miranda gave a small, reassuring smile. “I was awake with my daughter, trying to get her to sleep, when I heard your little girl crying.” She glanced at Sarah, still sound asleep beside her. “She sounded so upset. I couldn’t just ignore her, so I came in quietly to check on her.”
I nodded, letting her continue.
“She was talking in her sleep,” Miranda explained, her voice soft. “Something about ‘Mommy.’ She looked so lost.”
I swallowed, the mention of “Mommy” hitting me in a tender spot I tried not to dwell on. Sarah often cried out for her mother in her sleep, a wound we were both still trying to heal from.
“She held my hand, even in her sleep,” Miranda continued. “I told her a story my grandmother used to tell me. A silly tale about a guardian who watches over children’s dreams and keeps all the bad ones away. She seemed to calm down after that.”
Miranda looked down at Sarah, her hand resting gently on my daughter’s shoulder. “After a while, I didn’t want to leave her alone, so I brought her here with me.”
I felt my shoulders relax, the initial tension giving way to something softer, something I couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” I said, my voice a bit rougher than I’d intended. “She’s… been having a hard time since the accident. And, well, since her mom passed.”
Miranda looked up at me, understanding in her eyes. “I know what it’s like to lose family. To feel like no one is there when you’re scared.” She reached over, patting Sarah’s hand. “She’s a sweet girl. She just needs someone close right now.”
I paused and watched her, watching her with my daughter, and she’d managed to comfort Sarah in a way I hadn’t been able to in a long time. I told her as I said quietly, ‘she misses that.’ More to myself than to Miranda. “A mother’s touch.”
Miranda nodded in a gentle way, knowing he didn’t need any more words. There was an odd mixture of gratitude and relief in flowing. Offered my daughter something I hadn’t been able to, a gentle presence we both seemed to need.
I took a step closer and started: “Look, Miranda.” “I knew you were planning on moving on soon but … you could maybe stay a little longer.” Just until you’re ready. I’m sure it would be good for Sarah.”
Miranda’s eyes softened, as if my words were both a surprise and a relief. “If you’re sure… I’d like that. Sarah’s a special little girl.”
Just then, Sarah stirred beside her, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at me, blinking, and then glanced over at Miranda. “Daddy?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
I crouched down beside her. “Morning, sweetheart. You had a little adventure last night.”
Sarah’s gaze moved from me to Miranda, a small smile spreading across her face. “Miranda told me a story,” she murmured, a spark of excitement in her sleepy eyes. “About a guardian who keeps the nightmares away.”
Miranda chuckled softly. “You were very brave, you know.”
Sarah’s smile grew, her previous nervousness replaced with a shy kind of joy. “Will you tell me more stories?”
Miranda glanced over at me, and I nodded, feeling a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. “Of course,” Miranda said, her voice warm. “I’d be happy to tell you as many as you like.”
The air felt lighter in that little instant, as though the somber memories that pervaded our house were making room for something fresh. The soft melody of Sarah’s laughter as she questioned Miranda about the narrative permeated the room and calmed a deep part of me.
As Sarah fell asleep one night, I could not help but be thankful for Miranda’s surprise visit. In some way, this woman who had entered our life in the most peculiar manner had given Sarah and I a sense of calm that we had not experienced in a while.