Melpomene sounded like she was in physical pain on the other end of the phone and-
What if she was in real pain? What if she was calling him because she was injured or hurt? He almost couldn’t imagine her allowing herself to just ring him in any other situation.
“Melpomene,” he said more seriously, straightening up. “Are you hurt? Right now, are you okay?”
Melpomene hadn’t dropped the phone, but she had dropped her hand that held the phone, so his voice was distant, and she didn’t want it to be distant, but she couldn’t do anything but whimper through the end of her contraction, unable to pull the phone closer or speak till it passed. The slow fading of the pain was a dizzying relief, so much so that Melpomene laughed, just once, the weakest of ‘Hah’s. “Yes,” she breathed to his first question. “No,” to his second, and then a final confession, coloured with disbelief and fear and so many things: “Baby’s coming.”
Alan stood suddenly, filled with dread and purpose. “Jesus wept!” A coat! He had to find a coat! “Where are you?” he demanded, running to the bedroom to find his shoes. The idea that they weren’t together was suddenly unimportant, because Melpomene was having her baby and she was in pain and, oh god, “Are you alone? I’m coming, where are you?”