The Champion (Racing on the Edge)

by Stahl, Shey

  “Grr...need...sleeeppppeee.” He mumbled as he rolled away.

  Once he rolled off, I didn’t have time to laugh at him. I was now starting to dribble pee down my thighs as I got out of bed.

  As soon as I stood, I peed all over the carpet.

  Shit that’s just embarrassing.

  “Damn you Jameson...”

  If he would have let me out of bed when I needed to go, this wouldn’t have happened.

  I also couldn’t understand why pregnancy was so disgusting?

  I mean, so far I haven’t seen anything good about it. People say pregnancy is beautiful but I think that is just a crock of shit. My ass was huge. My ankles looked like they belonged to shamoo or one of his distant relatives and I couldn’t sleep. And I was pretty sure I changed my underwear at least four times a day from the lack of bladder control. And let’s not forget about the lack of sex this last week because I honestly felt too damn fat to be even remotely interested in Jameson’s camshaft anywhere near my crankcase. After all, that camshaft is the reason I have all these problems. I used to be attached to him but now...I wanted to detach him.

  While walking into the bathroom, I was momentarily distracted by the fact that my thighs were rubbing together. Something I never noticed until now and yet another dislike to add to my “growing list”.

  Jameson must have woke up to my grumbling, which I thought was internal but apparently, once again, was not.

  “Sway, why did you pee on the floor?” He asked wiping his eyes to focus on me.

  I hadn’t realized what time it was but I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only four am.

  “Because you’re an asshole and wouldn’t get off me.” I snapped and waddled to the bathroom with a towel between my legs, I slammed door behind me hoping to wake him up.

  He chuckled. My husband chuckled at my misery.

  Jerk.

  When I sat down on the toilet, more pee came out, and more and more. It was an endless flow of fluid, so I thought. I wondered if I had any body fluids left.

  When I thought I was done, I started to get up. When I stood, a gush came out but this time it appeared to be tinted pink.

  Confused about this, I reached for the pregnancy book on the back of the toilet and skimmed through the pages. I found what I needed since Emma had tabbed the pages of labor for me.

  That’s when I went through the checklist for the signs of labor.

  Back ache...check.

  Cramps...check.

  Discharge...check.

  Sudden gush of fluids...double check.

  Scared shitless...triple check.

  Standing there reading these signs of labor, I realized I was now standing in yet another puddle of water and scared shitless.

  This can’t be happening.

  “Oh Jameson,” I yelled from the bathroom as though I was calling a dog in from outside.

  He didn’t answer.

  If he thought he was sleeping through this, he was out of his damn mind. This was one shit storm I wasn’t handling alone.

  Opening the door to our master bedroom, I tossed the book at his head, not caring at that point if it hurts him or not. Of course, it hits him in the back of the head with a thump.

  “Oww...fuck Sway, why in the hell did you do that?” He asked rubbing his head and glaring. “That hurt.”

  I must have looked rather hideous because when he looked at me, his mouth dropped open in shock.

  There I was, with just a bra on standing in the doorway to our bathroom in a puddle of water. My hair probably looked like a haystack and I’m pretty sure my nipples were leaking again. I checked just to make sure...Yep, leaking.

  Great, now I needed to change my bra too. I threw my arms up in the air once again, frustrated with my lack of body control.

  “Mmm, since you’re up...” Jameson reached for me pulling me onto the bed after I put on a new pair of underwear. “you have some serious make-up sex to do.”

  “My water broke.”

  “I’ll get you a new one.” He said yanking me down. “Back to the make-up sex,”

  “No, I’m serious. My water broke.”

  “And I told you I’d get you a new one tomorrow. Get over here...” his expression of lust changed rather suddenly when he felt my lack of body control leaking on him. “Did you pee on me?”

  “What are you?” I slapped him across the face. “I told you my water broke!”

  “Well shit...” he took in my appearance again, comprehension flashed when I turned on the light and untangled myself from him. “Are you...?”

  “Either that or I’ve peed my body weight in piss. Get your ass up!” I yelled walking over to the dresser to find some clothes to wear.

  Jameson was rambling incoherently and pacing across our bedroom as he tried to find clothes to wear. It wasn’t long before I was staring at him naked and then the reality of the situation hit me. I was in labor and couldn’t be focusing on a camshaft.

  After all, that camshaft was the reason I sprung a leak in the first place.

  2. Bell Housing – Sway

  Bell Housing – A cover, shaped like a bell, that surrounds the flywheel and clutch that connects the engine to the transmission.

  Every time I thought about going into labor...I didn’t think it would happen on Christmas day nor did I expect it would be anything like this. I wasn’t prepared for the pain nor was I prepared for unprepared we were.

  Jameson was wound up and I was a basket case with an egg, the egg being the baby if that didn’t make sense.

  “It’s fucking freezing out here!” Shivering, he rubbed his hands together once he was inside the car.

  “Jameson, just calm down,” I glanced down at his bare legs and giggled as we sat in the Expedition.

  “I am calm. This is my calm.” His eyes narrowed as I continued to giggle, and pee a little.

  “Really? If you’re so calm, where are your pants?”

  He sighed in defeat when he looked down and realized why he was so cold. “Shit.”

  He came back a few minutes later, still complaining.

  “I’ve eaten entirely too much ice cream these days...my pants don’t even fit!”

  “Jameson?”

  “Yeah?” he glanced over at me digging the keys out of his pocket.

  “Those are my pants.”

  “Shit.”

  He came back again, another five minutes later, still complaining, but this time he looked even more agitated.

  “Jesus Christ, did you buy these for me? I mean...I know I’ve gained a few pounds this off-season, no thanks to you and your ice cream...but fuck. What’s with the kangaroo pouch?”

  “Those are mine!” I yelled. We were never going to make it to the hospital at this rate. “You should change and wake the fuck up! Put your own goddamn clothes on!”

  He sat there staring at me for a moment like I’d lost my mind. He’d lost his mind, not me.

  “You really should change.” I motioned with my hands to the water still trickling out of me. “We need to go.”

  “You think?”

  I punched his shoulder. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  When he came back he was finally wearing his own jeans and in a completely different mood. I began to think he’d smoked some of Charlie’s pot.

  “Okay, let’s do this!” he proclaimed pumping his fists in the air and starting the truck.

  “This isn’t a pep rally. Calm down.”

  “I’m being supportive. There’s a difference.”

  “Is that so?” I snorted. “I couldn’t tell.”

  “You don’t have to be so harsh. I’m only trying to be encouraging.”

  “How about you focus and drive to the goddamn hospital!” I snapped slapping the back of his head. “That would be supportive.”

  He glared. “Stop hitting me.”

  “Since I will be popping a child out of my crankcase today, I will do whatever the fuck I want.” I slapped him again. “Now drive!�
��

  “You should be nicer to me. I’m the one driving.”

  I sighed heavily. “No, you’re not driving. You’re sitting here wearing one of my maternity shirts and arguing with me about being nicer to you.” I pointed to his shirt and leaned back in the seat, his eyes drifted to his shirt. “You should look in your closet for your clothes. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you but mine is the one on the left, not yours.”

  Smugly he got out to change his shirt and came back with a muffin in hand and another bottle of water. I reached for the muffin, rolled the window down and tossed it in the driveway. “I can’t eat so neither can you asshole.”

  After a good twenty minutes of this bullshit, we finally made our way to Saint Peters Hospital in Olympia, only to have Jameson go the wrong way, twice and then ask to stop at Burger King because he was hungry.

  My response, “Go ahead but if you eat in front of me I will chop your dick off, no lie.”

  He didn’t stop but he did complain the entire trip about how he was starving and that I had no right to throw his muffin out the window. I had no sympathy for him or his stupid muffin.

  On the way there, I called our family and let them know we were heading to the hospital and wouldn’t be there for Christmas morning. Instead, we’d be bringing our son into the world if we stopped arguing long enough to actually get there.

  I still couldn’t grasp that this was it. For the past few months, I had imagined what this would be like, going into labor. Now that it was finally here, I had no idea what to do. I was a nervous fucking wreck and muffin boy beside me wasn’t any better.

  Spencer and Alley were already in Olympia so they were the first to arrive, although I didn’t want Spencer anywhere near the hospital when I had the baby.

  I was frightened enough thinking a child was supposed to come out of my crankcase making it the size of the Grand Canyon.

  That shit will never be the same.

  Dr. Sears met us on the labor and delivery floor as soon as we arrived. After getting me settled in a room and hooking up the monitors, he sat down to give us the news.

  “Sway, your water has broken.”

  Well at least I knew that I didn’t pee, slightly reassuring.

  “I need to do an exam.” He said putting his gloves on.

  Immediately I felt Jameson’s hand tense around mine when he checked my cervix. I’m sure this was awkward for him to watch. Who would want to watch another man stick his fingers inside his wife’s crankcase to check her bearing alignment?

  Definitely not Jameson.

  When the doctor hadn’t moved his hand as quickly as my overbearing husband wanted, Jameson shot him a glare.

  “Are you finished yet?”

  Dr. Sears ignored him and delivered the news I was dreading. “So it looks like you are fully effaced and dilated to a five. You’re measuring at thirty-four weeks and the baby looked great on the last ultrasound. If everything goes okay we should have him in your arms this evening depending on how your contractions progress. Looks like we’ll have a Christmas baby!”

  This should have been good news to me but the word contraction was haunting me. I didn’t like that word, feared it actually.

  “What are contractions?” I asked with a hesitation a mother-to-be shouldn’t have. I skipped certain parts of those pregnancy books for a reason. Denial. “I mean...I understand they’re like cramps, right?”

  “Yes Sway.” Dr. Sears laughed but held some concern for his patient and her being a dumb shit. He was probably wondering if he should call social services now in fear this child shouldn’t be with someone like me. I would if I was him.

  “The contractions are what push the baby out.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  His brow furrowed and his eyes darted between Jameson and me.

  “Well, I’ve never had a baby but from what the women I treat say, yes...badly.”

  “Can’t you just knock me out?” I whined.

  “No, we don’t do that these days.”

  “Shit.”

  I looked down at my bulging belly and wondered why he couldn’t have magical powers and just magical-power his way out of me.

  Jameson reached for my hand pulling it to his lips. A small smirk appeared across his lips as though he was thankful he wasn’t the one doing this.

  “It’s okay honey.” He had the nerve to say. “You’ll do fine.”

  “Do me a favor.” I told him pulling my hand away. “Don’t say that. For the sake of my sanity through this, do not say everything will be fine.” I motioned to my stomach. “There is a watermelon trying to squeeze out of my crankcase right now. IT IS NOT FINE!”

  He laughed. Fucking laughed.

  I tried to keep myself and Jameson calm as the nurses went to work but clearly, I was freaking the fuck out. Jameson wasn’t doing any better. I swore to myself at one point if he ran his hands through his hair one more time I was going to junk punch him.

  Usually, I found this sexy, the whole stressed Jameson running his hands through his wild hair but right then, it was irritating the hell out of me, which was precisely why Spencer wasn’t allowed in the room.

  He and Alley showed up a little while after we got here and Spencer decided it was appropriate to eat a breakfast sandwich in front of me while I was in fact starving to death.

  “I wouldn’t go to sleep tonight if I were you,” was my response.

  “I forgot how scary you can be.” He replied backing away.

  I kicked him out into the waiting room after that. He reluctantly left after making more than one reference to my crankcase and the fact that Jameson would need a GPS to navigate his way around after the baby came out. Such a tool.

  How Alley could stand him was beyond me.

  Emma stepped in for a moment and teased Jameson about not having sex for six weeks after the baby was born.

  “I’m not talking about my sex life with you.” Jameson replied harshly. “That’s inappropriate.”

  “It’s not inappropriate.” She told him taking a drink of her mocha, which pissed me off because I really wanted coffee. “I’m your sister, not your mother. We can talk about sex.”

  “No, no we can’t. We’re not close.” He went on to say. “That’s not something we talk about.”

  Emma started crying. I had no idea why, but she left. It might have had something to do with the fact that Jameson just told her they weren’t close but I couldn’t be sure and I really didn’t fucking care at that moment. My insides felt like they were being ripped apart, sparkplug by sparkplug.

  “You should go comfort her.” I told Jameson who had just picked up a magazine.

  “Why?” he didn’t look up but shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to her.”

  “Because you made her cry,”

  “She’s a girl.” He said. “Girls cry,”

  Another contraction hit me and I swear on all that was holy that my fuel pump gave way.

  “I’m never having sex with you again!” I yelled in the midst of the contraction. “I’m serious this time.”

  Jameson threw me a frantic glance. “That’s a bit drastic. Don’t you think?”

  “No...I don’t!”

  “Just calm down...everything is...” My murderous glare cut him off. “Sorry...” he mumbled and looked out the window.

  “Merry Christmas!” Spencer walked in wearing a Santa Claus hat with Tommy behind him. “Smile for the camera.”

  I can imagine what that picture would have looked like.

  I turned to Jameson. “If I stabbed Spencer with a fork do you think I’d get arrested?”

  He shrugged.

  “No, Emma didn’t. Just make it look like an accident.”

  He grabbed Spencer by the sweatshirt he was wearing and flung him toward me.

  “Here, hold out that fork and I’ll trip him. Problem solved.”

  Spencer left after that.

  “Good plan, honey,” I high-fived him, “I like the way
you think.”

  “We make a good team.” He agreed.

  Nancy and Jimi came in after that just to say hello and wish us good luck and Merry Christmas. I kept adjusting my blanket to make sure Jimi couldn’t see anything.

  He noticed and just like his sons, felt the need to embarrass me.

  “Sweetheart,” he drawled out slowly. “I’m damn near fifty years old...I’ve seen it all before.”

  Jameson realized what I was covering up.

  “That doesn’t mean you need to see it!” He barked at his dad handing me another cup of ice chips. “Stop looking.”

  “Okay...well...we will be in the waiting room.” Nancy announced and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “You look great.”

  “You don’t have to lie.”

  “Yes I do.” She smiled and patted my shoulder. “After almost thirty years of being married to a Riley...you’d learn to lie as well.”

  Charlie was the last to come in and didn’t stay very long once the contractions started to pick up and I began to sound like a drowning feral cat. He did wish us a Merry Christmas and sent me into another round of emotional frenzy when he gave me a heart shape locket he’d given my mother when I was born.

  It took me a good hour to recover.

  When the narcotics kicked in, I started to calm my inner demons and the need to junk punch my husband. That was a good thing if I wanted more kids in the future.

  Suddenly I was relieved to have this wonderful man by my side. I knew it was the drugs talking but I was grateful regardless.

  He held me and ran his fingers through my hair as they put the needle in my back, whispering that he loved me. He added the line, “Even if you did throw my muffin away,” with a hint of resentment.

  Once the contractions increased and I started to feel like I was having the baby any minute—Jameson freaked out and left the room, which brought me to another round of hysterics.

  Alley stepped in to take his place and said that Aiden was comforting Emma but just told Jameson if he didn’t get his ass back in here he was going to junk punch him for me.