My mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”
She nods, her smile wide.
Everyone gets excited, but I know better. Just because I did well today doesn’t mean I’ll do well tomorrow. I think everyone in town came out today, which means tomorrow will probably be dead.
To my surprise, I’m just as busy, if not more busy, the following day. This time, I don’t have all the helping hands I did on opening day. I’m all alone. Time to sink or swim. I struggle for a while trying to run the register and help people on the sales floor. It becomes very obvious that I need to hire help.
When the store slows down, I post a HELP WANTED ad online. I also print some flyers that I plan on posting around town when I close at 5 p.m. As busy as it is, time passes quickly. I close up for the day then post the flyers at the bar, diner, bakery, and post office before heading home. Wyatt’s car is already in the drive. When I walk in the house, I find him preparing dinner.
“Hey,” I say, leaning in and giving him a kiss.
“Hey, sit down and relax. I’m making dinner.”
I grab a water out of the fridge and have a seat at the table.
“You’re on your feet too much,” he tells me. “I know the store is new, but you’re pregnant and need to take it easy.”
I laugh. “I sat on my ass all day. I pulled a wooden stool up to the register, but it killed my back. I think a hot bath is in order. But the store did really well today. I think I’m going to have to hire help earlier than I’d planned.” I thought I wouldn’t need to hire someone until I got closer to my due date, but today showed me that I can’t wait that long. I need another pair of hands as soon as possible.
“That’s great. Maybe hire a couple of people. That way you’ll be covered for maternity leave and eventually get to where you just manage it.” Wyatt places a piece of grilled chicken on the plate and brings it over. My mouth waters with its heavenly smell.
I immediately start digging in. By the time he sits down across from me to eat, my plate is cleared. He laughs and shakes his head.
“I think I’m going to take a nap before I get in the bath. I’m exhausted,” I tell him as I push my chair back and head to the living room to lie down on the couch. I wake a little while later to him carrying me up the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s going on 10 p.m. I’m taking you to bed.”
“But my bath!” I whine.
He chuckles. “You can get a bath in the morning. I’ll come to the store with you tomorrow to make sure you’re not overdoing it.”
I don’t fight or argue. I just rest my head against his chest and let him carry me to bed.
It seems like being pregnant saps all my energy, like my body needs every last drop in order to grow this little baby inside of me. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to start a new career. Maybe I should’ve waited until after the baby was born.
In the morning, Wyatt and I go to the shop and get things ready to open for the day. A few deliveries came in and I work to put things away while he goes through a stack of applications, picking out the ones he thinks are worth considering.
The entire day, the two of us work side by side—laughing, joking, and going over baby names. I’m surprised by how fast the time passes with him here. We decide to skip cooking tonight and head to the diner to eat before heading home.
I’ve never been a spicy-food kind of girl, but since getting pregnant, the only thing I can think about is hot wings. I order a large plate with a side of fries covered in cheese. I eat like I haven’t eaten in weeks. Wyatt sits back, eating his burger and laughing.
“What?” I ask, hot sauce smeared across my face. I can tell by the way my skin is tingling.
He laughs and shakes his head. “Nothing. You’re adorable.”
I roll my eyes. “Glad you think so, because you’re stuck with me. You just better hope I lose all this weight after the baby’s born. I couldn’t imagine eating like this for the rest of my life.”
For the next few weeks, Wyatt goes to the store with me and helps me with my work while he does his work from home at night. I feel bad that he’s working twice as hard, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Once I finally get a few girls hired at the shop, he’s able to focus on his own work and I’m able to stay home more the bigger I grow. Between sleeping, eating, and going to doctors’ appointments, there isn’t much time for anything else.
Summer falls away and fall brings with it beautiful yellows, reds, and oranges. We enjoy crunching leaves, pumpkins, and cooler weather, which I welcome given how big I am. The cooler it gets, the bigger I grow, until finally, I’m closing in on my due date: December 17th.
By now, the girls at the store have things pretty much figured out, and they’re able to run it with little to no assistance from me. I pop in once a week to go over the books and keep an eye on the accounts, but other than that, they do everything on their own. It’s nice having a small staff that takes care of each other.
Once the store is doing well enough that it no longer needs me every second of every day, Wyatt and I get to work on turning the guest room into a nursery. Neither of us wanted to ruin the surprise, so the walls are painted yellow and all the accents are a bright, playful green color that could work for a boy or a girl. There’s fresh carpet, paint, furniture, and decor. It seems like everything is ready—everything but the baby, that is.
Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months, and with each passing day, I get bigger and bigger. My feet swell, my boobs are sore, my back hurts, and I can’t get comfortable, so I get little sleep and more of an attitude. I always imagined myself as a happy pregnant lady—the one who always smiles, whose skin is glowing, and who looks perfect. But it turns out, that isn’t me at all. I’m fat, crabby, uncomfortable, and in pain. There’s nothing to smile about.
I come walking down the stairs with my suitcase and Wyatt jumps up. “Is this it? Are you in labor?”
“No, but it’s the 17th, so take me anyway. Let’s get this thing out of me.” I point at my stomach.
He wants to laugh, but I see him working hard to hold it in. “That’s not how it works,” he says, taking the suitcase from my hand and leading me over to the couch. “Come on, just sit down and take it easy.”
I scoff. “Easy for you to say! You’re not double your normal size. My back hurts, my boobs hurt, and my feet hurt. Everything hurts from being stretched too much. I don’t understand how there’s only one in there. I think there must be two or three.”
He laughs but starts massaging my shoulders. “There’s only one.”
“Why won’t it come out?” I whine.
“He loves you. He doesn’t want to leave,” Wyatt says, and I know it’s meant to be sweet, but it’s just annoying.
“Why can’t men carry the babies?”
He laughs. “Because we’re not as tough as you. We’d be a crying mess the first month. We never would’ve made it this far.”
“Are you trying to sweeten me up?”
“Is it working?” he asks, and I can hear the fear in his voice.
I shrug one shoulder. “Kind of.”
“Then I’ll keep going.” He props a pillow behind my back then moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me. He picks up one foot and begins massaging it. I immediately relax and my eyes fall closed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and my eyes pop open, landing on his.
I snort. “Yeah, real beautiful. I look like a cow.”
He shakes his head. “No, you don’t. You’re breathtaking. I know this baby is going to be just as in love with you as I am. You’re going to be such a good mother. You’re already an amazing wife. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to keep you.” He kisses my ankles and starts working his way up my leg.
I take a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed once again.
Just as he’s about to kiss my lips, a pain rips through my stomach and I grab it, calling out.
“What? What is it?”
“Contraction. I’m having a contraction.”
“Are . . . are you sure?”
I shoot him a look. “Yes, I’m sure. You need to time them. See how far apart they are.”
He nods and looks down at his watch. For the rest of the evening, we time my contractions, but they’re too far apart to go in. When they get down to 10 minutes between each one, we load up for the hospital since it takes a little while to drive there.
By the time we reach the hospital, my contractions are five minutes apart and we’re taken directly to the delivery room. Wyatt helps me change into a gown and he holds my hand while the doctor sees how dilated I am. He doesn’t think it will be long, but I’m already hot and tired, ready for sleep. Getting my epidural almost puts a halt to my labor, but I’m relieved that I’m getting a pause button so I can take a nap to rest up for the big event.
I sleep off and on and Wyatt dozes occasionally while sitting in the chair at my side. When morning comes and there’s still no baby, the doctor breaks my water to get things moving. I’m also given a Pitocin drip. Wyatt makes calls and grabs some food while we wait, but I’m unable to have anything but ice chips at this point. When he walks back in from his hour-long breakfast, the contractions are back in full force. The doctor suits up and the nurses start preparing the room.
“Where have you been?” I ask him as the nurses start messing with my bed.
“I’m sorry; I had to call everyone. They’re on their way to the hospital waiting room.”
“Looks like it’s time to push,” the doctor says, throwing up the blanket.
The epidural has worn off and I feel every ounce of pressure and pain as I bear down as hard as I can. I hold Wyatt’s hand and he lets out a gasp when I squeeze too tightly, but I shoot him a look and he sucks it up.
I push for what feels like forever. I’m weak, tired, sore, hot, hungry, and now angry, because even though I’m in labor, this baby still won’t come out.
“We’re going to have to get her down to surgery. I think the baby is breech.”
“What? What does that mean?” I ask as worry etches over Wyatt’s face.
“Everything will be fine, but we’re going to have to do a C-section.”
Before I can process what’s happening, I’m being wheeled away from Wyatt and down the hall at lightning speed into a cold, white room. Fear settles over me as I’m moved to a new bed and a sheet is set up in front of my face. Even though I’m completely numb now, that doesn’t calm my fears. If anything, they’ve only escalated as I wait to see if our baby is okay.
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Wyatt
I stand back watching as they wheel her away from me. What do I do now? Am I allowed to go back there? They would’ve told me if I could, right? They would’ve grabbed me and said, “Come on, you need to get scrubbed up,” or some shit, right? I grab a nurse as she’s rushing out of the room.
“What’s going on? Where are they taking her?”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but I have to go. If we don’t get the baby out in time, it could be in distress. We’ll let you know something as soon as possible.” She rushes away, leaving me alone. With nothing to do, I head down to the waiting room to find all of my brothers, their wives, and Destiny’s parents.
“What’s going on?” Drake asks.
“I don’t know. She was pushing and then they said something about the baby maybe being breech, and then they took her to the OR. They said they’d let me know something as soon as they could, but fuck. She’s in there all alone. She’s probably scared, and I’m out here missing it like always.”
My hands are shaking, but I’m not sure if it’s from worry, fear, or anger. I’m scared that something will happen to her in there. I know it’s unusual these days to die from labor complications, but it could still happen. I’m worried that something is wrong with the baby. I’m angry because I have all this shit going on and there’s no one who can give me a straight fucking answer.
“It’ll be all right, man. Just try to sit and calm down,” Drake says, pushing on my shoulders to get me into a chair.
My knees start to bend, but at the last moment, I straighten them and walk forward, needing to pace. I can’t sit still. Not at a time like this.
“How’s Destiny?” her mom asks.
“She was doing okay. She seemed to be okay, anyway. The doctor wasn’t concerned with her. He seemed more worried about the baby.”
She takes in this information, nods her head, then sits down. Her eyes close and immediately, I know that she’s praying. Praying for Destiny to come out of this fine. Praying for the safety of the baby. I shake my head and leave the waiting room, too amped up to sit around and have idle chitchat. I walk through the hallways with no real place in mind. But then I look up and find myself outside the chapel. I push through the door and walk up the long aisle. In the front, I fall to my knees in prayer.
“God, please, if you can hear me, let them be okay. I can’t live this life without her. I can’t face another day if something goes wrong in there. Please, protect my baby. Protect my wife. I need both of them like I need the heart in my chest. Hell, if you want, I’ll trade myself for the both of them. Take me. But leave Destiny and the baby. Please. I beg you. Amen.”
Tears well up in my eyes and fall down my cheeks as worry eats at my insides. It feels like I’ve only been here for a few minutes, but I get up and head back to the waiting room, needing to be in a place where the doctors can find me if they have updates.
I take my time walking back, and when I arrive, I fall into a chair next to Drake and Mrs. Parker. Drake pats me on the back, letting me know he’s being strong for me. Mrs. Parker places her soft hand on mine and gently rubs it back and forth for a few minutes. I don’t know why, but her touch tells me that everything will be fine. I will see Destiny again. I will get to hold my child. With a deep breath, anxiety leaves me. Somehow, I just know that everything will be all right. It has to be.
I don’t know how long it takes, but the doctor finally walks into the waiting room. “Mr. Slade?”
“Yes!” I say, jumping up.
“Your wife and baby are fine. They’re getting cleaned up right now and will be in room 212 in about 30 minutes. The baby was breech, but I was able to get to him and get him out before any distress occurred.”
“Did you say . . . him?”
He smiles wide. “Congratulations, you have a baby boy!”
My smile breaks free, taking over my whole face, and everyone cheers and claps and hugs around me. Drake smacks me on the back and I turn around, pulling him in for a hug.
“Thanks for being here, man.”
“Anytime, little brother,” he replies, smacking me on the back as I pull away from our hug.
Destiny’s mom hugs me next. “Well, what name have we decided on for this little guy?”
I laugh and shrug, not allowing myself to say the name until I see him. And Destiny. I want to reveal his name when we’re all together.
I go into the room first while the rest hang back to give us a little alone time. When I walk in, Destiny is sitting up in bed, the baby in her arms. He’s wrapped in a blue blanket. I quickly close the distance between us, kissing her face and lips. Then I step back to look down at my son’s face for the first time.
He has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen, and they look just like Destiny’s almond-shaped eyes. He has a tiny little nose and thin pink lips.
“Look at all this hair,” she says, pulling off his little cap.
A head full of dark hair pops out and I laugh, knowing that hair is all mine.
“He has crooked little pinkies too, just like his daddy.” She holds up his hand and sure enough, he has that weird family trait only the Slades have.
“He’s perfect,” I say, looking down at him.
“Hold him,” she says, lifting him up into my arms.
I hold him against my chest and he feels light as air. “How much does he weigh?”
“Six poun
ds, 14 ounces. He’s 24 inches long. He’s going to be tall and thin, just like his daddy.” She smiles up at me.
I sit on the edge of the bed, unable to take my eyes off of him. “So, are we sticking with the name we picked out?”
“I think it fits, don’t you?”
Just as she says that, everyone walks in, filling up the small room completely. I stand up and hand the baby back to her. “Everyone, I want you to meet the newest member of the family: Ethan Thomas Slade.”
They all ooh and aww at him. They take turns passing him around, but Mrs. Parker is the greediest. She sits in the chair and rocks him to sleep while the rest of us talk. Slowly, one by one, my brothers and their wives leave and we’re alone with her parents. Mrs. Parker insists on changing him and letting us get a little rest before nightfall.
When we both wake up and get some dinner in our stomachs, Mr. Parker finally talks his wife into going home for the night and leaving us alone to get adjusted to our new family. I slide onto the bed with Destiny, holding her hand and touching Ethan with the other. When I place my finger in his palm, his tiny hand curls up around it, making a fist.
I laugh. “He’s already got the Slade fight in him,” I tease.
She laughs but shakes her head. “No way. This Slade boy is going to be a good boy, aren’t you, Ethan? He’s going to take after Mommy.”
I smile over at her. “You’re a mommy.”
Her grin widens. “And you’re a daddy.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say, leaning my head against hers.
“I do too,” she agrees, lying back just to watch the baby sleep.
It’s the cutest thing—when he cries, he lets out a few small whimpers. At first, I think, “Well, this isn’t bad.” But if you don’t get that boob in his mouth fast enough, he sounds like a screaming banshee ready to tear your head off. His anger goes from zero to 100 in half a second.
“I think we’re doomed to have another me,” I tell her.
She frowns at me as she tries to coax him into eating. But now he’s so mad that the hunger is forgotten. He’s turning his head from side to side, his arms and legs are going, and his face is bright red.
Loves Me NOT: A Small Town, Second-Chance Romance (Slade Brothers Book 4) Page 19