Tommy snickers, “Besides Aiden.”
My head snaps over to him, “Tommy.”
He looks from me to his glass, then back again, carefully setting it on the table. “Sorry, that’s the wine talking.”
“Anyway,” Sarah says. “I agree with Liam. Is there anything you’d like to do?”
I think about it for a moment before answering. “Honestly, my adrenaline is really high right now. I was considering taking out the bike, but I’d probably get the mother of all speeding tickets.”
“So, you’re saying you want to do something…fast?” Liam clarifies.
“I feel the need,” I say.
“The need for speed,” Tommy finishes, Sarah shoots him an odd look. “What? I love that movie.”
“And I think I know just the thing to help you burn off some of that energy,” Liam says wagging his eyebrows.
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
He shrugs, “Knowing you, probably not.”
Off to the races
We pile in a town car with Liam behind the wheel and drive for what feels like hours. Stopping only to grab a bite of lunch and coffee from the least authentic Irish Pub I’ve ever seen, we continue north, finally arriving at what looks like a barren race track.
Parking outside the old metal hanger, Liam leads us in a side door. The smell of burnt rubber and motor oil hits me like a forgotten perfume, heavy and stale in the air. The hanger houses a small desk and a half dozen full size formula one race cars.
Making my way to the nearest one, I kneel, running my hand along the body while Liam talks to the guy at the counter. “Oh, we’re gonna be best friends.”
“What was that?” Liam calls.
“I was talking to the car,” I say, moving to pet the back spoiler.
After a few minutes of feeling like a kid in a candy shop, Liam makes his way to where I now stand with the others.
“Alright, the race is set. We’ll each get three practice laps individually, then we will line up for a head to head.”
Sarah points to one of the cars, “I’ve never driven one of these in my life.”
“Relax,” Tommy says. “They’re just like go-karts. Only you know, big.”
“That’s pretty close to accurate,” Liam agrees. “Don’t worry, we’ll get a safety brief before we do anything.”
He’s not wrong, as it turns out. We spend the next hour getting a talk about understeer, oversteer and not hitting the wall with their beautiful and expensive cars. We also go over all the basics of the vehicles, safety equipment, and a million other things. Finally, they turn us loose on the track. We do a couple slow laps to get the feel of it, then bang out our three fast test laps. Sarah is a natural, as it turns out, while Tommy nearly eats it twice. Liam ends his last lap, removing his helmet and tossing it to me with a childish smile plastered to his face. His brow shines with a light beat of sweat, his hair even more disheveled than normal as he walks over to me, pulling off his gloves.
“You’re up,” he says, motioning over his shoulder to my car.
“Prepare to get smoked,” I tell him with one hundred percent more swagger than I feel as I slide into the driver’s seat and buckle my harness. Revving the engine, I bring it slowly to the start line, my heart pounding like drums on my ears.
The green light flashes and I hit the gas, tires squealing as I tear off the line. The pressure against my chest is immediate, like hitting the down slope on a rollercoaster, and it’s hard to catch my breath. The track flys past as I break into the first turn, the wheels digging into the pavement like anchors before I finally hit the gas again and tear off. I hear myself scream despite the earplugs, not fear but a sheer exhilaration that flows like blood through my veins. Every part of me is on fire, humming with electricity, vibrant and alive like I’ve never felt.
It’s sex and rage and terror and joy all tangled in knots inside me, spooling along the track as I cut through the air. Another turn comes up fast and I reluctantly slow down, catching my breath for only a moment before launching off again. My eyes water behind the visor, my hands shaking on the wheel that’s not really a wheel at all.
This is what it must feel like to fly. I take it all in, desperate to feel every ounce of it, every bomb dropping, earth shattering, explosive current of it. This feeling is like a drug, pushing me to go further, faster, harder, until I round the final turn, laying my foot flat to the floor on the last stretch. The checkered flag waves and I brake slowly, bringing the car around to the pit once more. The crew helps pull me to a stop, removing the small cage around my shoulders and helping me from my seat.
My knees are shaking, threatening to buckle as my feet hit the ground. Pulling the helmet off and tossing it to one of the crew, I race for Liam, throwing myself at him. He catches me, but my momentum takes us both to the ground where I straddle him.
“Did you see that?” I practically scream, clutching him by the front of the driving suit he’s still wearing and shaking him as he laughs.
“That was awesome,” he says, not trying to escape.
Rolling off him I fall back to the ground, looking up at the bluest blue sky I’ve ever seen.
“It was like being a bird riding the current,” I say, still gasping to catch my breath. “I never wanted to stop.”
Rolling to his front, he gets into a push up position, “You wanna go again?”
I feel my eyes widen ad I lull my head to the side, meeting his intense gaze. “Can I?”
“Haven, you’re the future queen, you can literally do anything you want.”
Laughing, I lay back, shaking my head. “I still can’t quite wrap my head around that.”
Liam pushes up to his feet, then reaches over and offers me a hand. “Well you’d better get used to it.”
I let him help me up and we make our way to Tommy and Sarah who look every bit as pumped as I feel, especially Tommy who is lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Haven, that was amazing!”
I lay a hand on my chest and feel my heart still racing beneath my fingers. “I don’t even have words,” I admit.
“Better than sex,” Sarah agrees.
Liam snorts, “Then you’re doing it wrong.”
She slugs him in the arm playfully. I watch, mesmerized by the change in her. She’s so relaxed and calm. Smiling widely, a set of dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth.
“What?” ash asks, catching me staring.
“I just realized I had never seen you smile before, like really smile. It’s a good look for you.”
She blushes.
The pit chief walks over, pulling the protective muffs off his ears.
“Anyone want to go again before we set up for the race?”
All our hands shoot up and he laughs.
“Well alright then, come on.”
We spend a few more hours just running laps on the course before we finally let them line us up for the race.
“House Norwood for the win,” Tommy cheers.
I shake my head, “Nice try, but House MacGregor is going to eat you for breakfast.”
“Is that so,” Sarah challenges. “Then how about a little wager?”
“What did you have in mind?” I ask.
She exchanges a glance with her brother. “Losers buy dinner.”
“Winners pick the place?” I ask.
Everyone nods and I slam my visor down. “Let’s do it.”
The light hits green and we take off. Sarah pulls into an early lead, but Liam isn’t far behind. I’m a comfortable third going into the first turn. Taking a deep breath, I lay it out, passing Liam and edging up to Sarah. We’re neck and neck for the straight, and I take the inside line on the turn, passing her smoothly.
Liam takes lead at the next straight, and Sarah overturns on the corner, costing her precious seconds. Liam holds me on the inside, eventually overtaking me. In the back of my mind, something pulls at me. Maybe it’s just my competitive nature, but
the urge is undeniable--I want to win.
Pushing the gas to the floor, I catch up with him again, this time not slowing as I should around the corner. My hands shake as I fight to hold the car into the round, grinding my teeth against the forces pulling at me. Finally, I break through, but it’s not quite enough and Liam blows past me at right before the checkered flag falls.
I should be disappointed in the loss, but I’m too elated for that. Every cell in my body is screaming, and the urge to let the sound rip through my throat overtakes me. Once I pull my helmet off I scream, pure, unrefined ecstasy. Around me the ground crew cheers and laughs.
“Have fun, Your Grace?” the crew chief asks, offering me a hand.
“I’m pretty sure I only want to be doing that, ever,” I admit, taking his hand with a smile I can’t restrain.
“Well, anytime you want to come for a ride, we’re thrilled to have you.”
“Thanks, I will be taking you up on that.” Crossing to where Sarah is climbing from her seat, I pull her into a hug before she even has her helmet off. “You were killing it out there.”
She pats my back, releasing me to free herself from the helmet and unzipping her suit. “Thanks. It feels amazing. I see why so many nobles have this as a hobby, somehow, it’s like climbing a mountain and sleeping for a hundred years in the same breath. I feel so rested, but so exhilarated.”
Liam joins us, helmet tucked under one arm.
“I think someone owes us dinner, Haven.”
“Oh, I think you’re right,” I say, turning to Tommy who jogs over.
“We are fast, we are furious,” he chants.
“We are hungry,” I add.
“And I know just the place,” Liam says, winking at me.
We change and clean up, bidding farewell to our gracious crew and hit the road in a car that now feels painfully slow.
Rolling the window down, I let the wind blow through my hair as we drive down the coast and back to a familiar Oola.
“Delia,” I say, making my way to the center of the room and offering her a warm hug. “How are you feeling?”
She puts one hand on her swollen belly, “Like a house. But good.”
Tommy hugs her next and Sarah follows suit. Liam takes her in his arms last, gently lifting her from her feet and spinning her around before depositing her lightly.
“Congratulations on your engagement, Haven,” she offers. “Or should I say Lady Haven?”
I raise a hand, “Just Haven is fine. And thank you.”
We take a seat and Liam helps her fill and deliver a round of beer. This time she sits with us, sipping on a water with lemon as we tell her about our day.
Sarah excuses herself to the restroom and Liam goes to refresh his drink. Delia lays a hand on mine, smiling softly.
“I saw you on the news, it was very brave what you did.”
I shake my head, frowning. “I wish people would stop saying that. What I did was awful. People shouldn’t be trying to make me feel better about it.”
“It’s not what you did, but how you changed that draws their admiration. Everyone makes mistakes, not everyone has the courage to look them in the eye and try to make it right.” She sits back, stretching her back.
“Are you alright?” I ask, watching her strained expression.
She waves me off, “When you are this big, everything aches. You’ll understand someday.”
I can’t help the vision that blossoms in my head, me, waddling around the palace while Aiden hovers around me, seeing our child for the first time, laying him—or her—in his father’s arms. It’s a beautiful dream.
“I hope so,” I say softly.
“Delia, the rice is done, should I bring the pot?” Liam calls over.
She struggles to her feet. “No, I’ll do it, I need to cut the fish anyway.”
She stops mid step, her expression changing as she clutches her belly once more.
“What is it?” I ask, holding my hands toward her but unsure what to do.
She offers me the strangest look, “My water just broke.”
Special delivery
“Wait, like what water?” Tommy asks, his voice teetering on panic. “Like your baby water?”
I roll my eyes just as she groans, reaching out and clutching the table for support.
“Oh shit,” I leap from my seat and offer her a hand, setting her back on the bench as gently as I can. “Liam, it’s baby time.”
“What?” he says, his eyes wide.
“How far is the hospital?” I ask Tommy.
She shakes her head, “No hospital. I need to go to the singing pools.”
My eyes dart to Liam then back, “I didn’t know people still used those.”
Delia cries out and Liam rushes over. He holds his hands up, “Ok, this is way out of my league. Haven, what do we do?”
I draw back, “Do I look like a doctor? I have no idea.”
“Yeah but you’re a girl so,” he motions toward her. “Can’t you, like, look?”
I shoot him an annoyed glare, “I…yeah. I can look. If its ok?”
Delia nods.
Moving to my knees, she scoots to the edge of the seat. Rolling her dress to her knees, I peek below, moving aside her underwear to see what’s going on.
I have no idea what I’m seeing, but it doesn’t look good.
“Ok, whatever we are going to do, we need to do quick,” I say. “I don’t think there’s much time.”
“What will it be, hospital or pools?” Liam asks.
She groans again and I shake my head.
“Nope, she won’t make the climb down.”
“Then what do we do?” Liam demands.
Ugh, Sarah was right. Boys are useless.
“Where’s the father?” I ask Delia.
“Down at the shore, he’s unloading today’s catch.”
“Liam, go get him and bring him here. Tommy, you got cell service?”
He nods.
“Then call an ambulance and then get online and search for how to deliver a baby,” I order.
Sarah rushes over, “What’s happening?”
“Delia’s in labor. Can you find me some clean towels and boil some water?”
She rocks back on her heels. “Why am I boiling water?”
I hold up my hands, “I don’t know, it’s what they do in the movies. Unless you know how to deliver a baby?”
She shakes her head and rushes off.
Turning my attention back to Delia, I try to calm her.
“Ok, deep breaths, and we need to get you to the floor.”
Nodding, she slips from the seat to the floor and lays back, her knees up.
“You’ve delivered before, ever have any complications?” I ask.
“No,” she says through gritted teeth.
“Ok,” Tommy says, “the ambulance is on its way. According to this, we need towels, warm water, scissors, string, rubbing alcohol, and a blanket.”
“You got any of that, Sarah?”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
I keep breathing with Delia, another contraction coming quickly as I carefully remover her panties.
“Oh, ok, we have the top of a head,” I say, watching Tommy visibly pale.
“Stay with me Norwood,” I order.
He nods once, looking back to his phone.
Sarah rushes over, she’s got a bunch of hand towels, a basin of water, a bar of soap, a fruit knife, and a bottle of whiskey.
“Ok, that’ll have to do. Here, wash my hands down with the booze,” I order, holding my hands to the side. She obeys, then I scrub them with the soap and water as well. “Great, now do whatever you can to sterilize that knife and Tommy’s shoelaces.”
He frowns, but obeys, pulling them from his leather shoes and handing them over.
“Delia, can you raise your hips up for me just a bit?”
She does and I manage to slide one of the towels below her. Rolling another into a log shape, I hold it out to Tomm
y, “Under her head please.”
Looking back down, I see the head is a little further out now, “Hey Tommy, what does it say next?”
“It says to catch the head and support it, but not to pull on it. To check and make sure the cord isn’t around its neck.”
I look up to Delia, who is panting and shaking. “Alright, mama. On the next contraction, big push, ok?”
She sits up onto her elbows, nodding once and taking a few deep breaths. “There should be singing, if we don’t sing the babe into the world, how will it know our joy?” She asks, her face red and blotchy.
I open my mouth to say something but I’m cut off as she cries out.
She screams again, the contracting hitting as she bears down, the head spills free and I catch it in my hands. There’s blood and other things, but I force myself to ignore it.
“Nothing around the neck,” I say. I don’t mention the pale blue coloring, not wanting to panic anyone. “Another big push, when you’re ready. Tommy, I need you to start singing, now.”
He raises his hands, “Sing what?”
“Literally anything.”
Clearing his throat, he opens his mouth and hums. The tune is familiar, a lullaby like a ghost from my past. My mother must have sung it to me, I realize. My chest aches, the feeling of her closer than it’s ever been. Joining him, I sing the tune.
“Over in Killarney, many years ago, my mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low,” I sing. “Just a simple little ditty, in her good old Irish way. And I'd give the world if she could sing, that song to me this day.”
Delia pushes like a champ and in three long pushes, the baby spills free in a rush of blood and fluids. I catch the tiny thing in my hands, carefully transferring it to a towel. Rubbing on its back and legs, I continue to sing, Tommy joining me on the chorus. In my hands the baby begins to quiver, crying out in a long, piercing wail.
I exhale, the panic seeping from my bones at the sound.
“Sarah, I need you to cut the cord and tie both ends off with the laces, ok? But leave it pretty long.”
With shaking hands, she obeys, carefully tying the baby’s end off with a dainty bow. As I hold him, the crying settles, and he opens one tiny blue eye just a crack.
“Welcome to the world, little one,” I whisper, awestruck. “Well, Delia, it’s a boy,” I say, raising up to lay him on her chest just as Liam returns with her husband who falls to his knees at her side.
Once Upon A New York Minute: Part 1 Page 24