I grabbed her by the elbow. “Help me get her into the backseat of my truck,” I ordered Wade.
Just as we stretched her out, Mandy started her breathing routine again. “I’ve got to push, I’ve got to...” she said, instinctively pulling her pajama bottoms down to her ankles. I rushed to check between her thighs. “The baby is crowning.” I turned to Wade. “How fast can you run inside to bring me some clean towels and a shower curtain?”
He instantly disappeared up the stairs. “Hold on,” I told Mandy. “It’s going to be okay.”
Moments later, Wade was back with the necessities. I spread the shower curtain beneath Mandy and covered it with a fresh towel. I put on a fresh pair of latex gloves that I kept in my emergency supplies.
The poor girl was in excruciating pain. Her little face was squished, and her eyes were mere slits, and she was coated in sweat.
“Open the door of the Bronco and stand behind her,” I told Wade. He did and let her lean against him. I said with as much assurance as I could, “Mandy, it looks like I’m going to deliver your baby. Is there anything I need to know?”
She shook her head, her eyes squeezed tight. Wade pulled her strawberry-blonde bangs out of her eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her gently as he cradled her. His eyes met mine, and he smiled. “Donna knows what she’s doing.”
I felt a warm glow from his confidence. I looked back into Mandy’s face; her eyes were closed against the pain. “You’re not carrying twins, are you?”
She shook her head again then moaned, “I’ve got to push.”
Before I could ask or say anything else, she did.
I put my hands on the baby’s head and pushed back to gently control its glide into the world. The last thing I wanted to do was to let it get away from me or drop it. Lisa Leann would kill me, that’s for sure.
I gently held the crowning head. Then, there in my hands, was a face, shoulders, an arm that broke free, and a little hand that quivered a wave. Next, the tummy and finally the legs and feet.
I held the squirming baby in my hands. “It’s a boy,” I cheered, looking up at Mandy.
I caught a glimpse of the expression on Wade’s face. He was enraptured. “He’s beautiful,” he said with awe in his voice.
Mandy tilted her head so she could see him. “My baby,” she cried.
“Are you going to cut the cord?” Wade asked.
I shook my head. “No, I’ll let the doctor do it. Hand me a couple of those towels.”
While he did so, I carefully checked the baby’s airways for mucus and was relieved that the passages were clear, as I didn’t have a bulb syringe. Then I wiped the baby clean as best I could before wrapping him in another fresh towel. The red-faced infant howled as I handed him to his mother, who cooed to him. The sound of her voice seemed to soothe him, and she held him close.
I watched the happy pair for a moment, then began to clean up the backseat so Wade would have a place to sit.
“We’re going to the hospital now. Wade, you ride in the back. Let me know if she delivers the placenta.”
“The what?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll know it if you see it.”
Five minutes later, I pulled up next to an ambulance that was parked at the emergency room entrance.
We were met in the parking lot of the hospital by a wild-eyed Lisa Leann. “What took you so long?” she cried.
Instead of answering her, I swung open the back door and said, “Congratulations, Grandma. You’ve got yourself a little grandson.”
Upon seeing her Mandy holding the baby, Lisa Leann screamed, though I couldn’t tell if it was from sheer shock or from joy. Probably both. Wade ran inside to get a gurney. The three of us helped Mandy onto it, while Lisa Leann held the baby close to Mandy, seeing as he was still attached to his mother.
“Oh my! Oh my, little one,” she crooned. She looked up at me and said, “Oh my.”
Wade and I pushed the pair inside, and our entrance generated quite a commotion. Nurses and doctors rushed the mother, child, and grandmother back to the ER.
Suddenly, I felt a bit light-headed and sat down in a waiting room chair. Wade sat beside me.
He flopped his head against the wall. “Wow.”
Staring straight ahead, I nodded. “Wow.”
He put his hand over mine. “That was mighty good work you did there, Deputy. Do you deliver many babies?”
Something peaceful stirred in my heart at his touch. I slumped back and gave him a sideways look. “My first one,” I admitted sheepishly.
Wade nodded then squeezed my hand. “Mine too.” He sat silently for a moment. “Seeing that new life come into the world makes me think of all that the two of us have lost.”
I nodded, unable to look at him, afraid if I blinked I’d free the tears gathering in my lashes. “I know,” I said, squeezing his hand back. “Not a day has gone by that I—”
A door banged open, and I looked up to see David dressed in his new dark blue paramedic’s uniform and looking rather handsome as he rushed into the waiting room. He must have come in earlier with the accident victims. Wade leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Here comes your boyfriend,” as he stood up and stepped to one side.
David was all smiles. “Donna, Wade. Congratulations on the baby.”
Wade and I looked at one other, and we both suppressed a laugh.
“Word travels fast,” I said.
David grinned. “Especially when it travels by Lisa Leann.”
The guys shook hands like old pals. Wade said, “There’s a rumor you two might be engaged.” He swallowed hard. “So, have you set a date?”
I sat up straight in the chair. “We’re not...”
David finished for me. “Engaged yet. We talked on the phone late into the night and we’ve decided to take it slow.”
David sat down in the chair next to mine and attempted to put his arm around me. I stood and wrapped my arms around myself and said, “I’ve got a lot of things from my past that I’ve yet to work out.”
I shot a look at Wade, who looked back at me hard. “What would it take for you to say good-bye to your past?” he asked.
My voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Don’t know that I want to.”
David stood up. “Look, I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night. Is there something going on between you two? Something I need to know?”
I shrugged. “You yourself said you know that Wade and I have a history,” I responded.
David folded his arms. “But your history is in the distant past. Right?”
Wade stepped closer. “Donna?”
My breath caught in my chest. “What?”
“Am I?”
“Are you what?” I felt sweat begin to bead across my forehead.
“Just your past?”
I stared at Wade, then David. “Nothing like being put on the spot,” I managed to stammer.
Wade dropped his voice. “Donna, you’ve got to make a choice. Which of us is it going to be?”
My heart began to hammer in my chest and I felt dizzy. I felt the blood rush to my head, and I looked at the spectacle of the two men standing before me. Heat began to rise from my neck and into my cheeks. I lifted my hands as if to keep my cheeks from sliding off my face.
My voice sounded broken. “Don’t either of you realize how painful this is for me?” I turned to David. “This is not the place for this conversation. We’ll... we’ll talk later.”
I turned to Wade. “And that goes for you too.”
With that, I turned on my heels and stalked out of the waiting room into the chilly afternoon.
“Donna, wait!”
I turned and saw Wade running after me.
“Not now, not here,” I said, feeling the tip of my nose sting from both emotion and the cold. I opened the door of my Bronco and climbed inside. Before I could slam the door shut, Wade gripped it with his hand.
“Donna? You’re my ride, remember?”
“
Oh. Oh yeah. Get in; I’ll drive you back to your pickup.”
I caught a glimpse of David watching from the glassed-in entryway. He stared for a moment, then turned away as Wade climbed into the front seat next to me. I put my key into the ignition.
“Donna, can I...”
I hesitated then looked at him.
Wade reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bandana. “Can I... I mean, you look like you could use this.”
I took the bandana then dabbed at my eyes. “Thanks,” I said before handing it back.
“Here.” He leaned over and wiped my cheek. “You had blood on your cheek... from the birth. That’s better.” He gently wiped it away. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “if I hurt you back there.”
I took a deep breath and held on to the steering wheel as I studied it. I shook my head. “Wade, it’s not you. So much has happened these past few weeks, my head is spinning. Jan Moore’s and the baby’s funerals, the lawsuit, my mother coming back practically from the dead, my dad getting married, Vonnie and her birth son, not to mention the paparazzi, and now this baby.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “And then there’s you.”
He sounded almost hopeful. “Me? What did I do?”
I looked at him then. “You surprised me. You got back on your feet, and you...”
“Got sober and found the Lord,” Wade supplied.
I gave him a little grin. “Yeah, that and... well, all this has stirred up a lot of the old feelings and...” I looked back at the steering wheel. “I don’t know what to do with those feelings, Wade. I don’t know if I can trust them or you.”
I looked up, then tried to look away again, but the spark in his eyes held me captive. “You’re pretty much describing my feelings too.” He looked bashful. “It’s no secret that I never got over you. But I can’t live my life on hold, not anymore. I’ve got to settle this with you, or I’ve got to let you go.”
My insides went from warm to hot, to cold, and back to warm again.
“I’m afraid of us,” I finally said.
Wade nodded. “I’m afraid too.” He reached across the console and pulled me toward him, then wrapped me in his arms. I relaxed into his embrace as I inhaled the scent of him, both familiar and comforting.
“But we’re not those frightened little high school kids anymore,” he murmured. “We’re adults. We can figure this out together, one day at a time.”
51
Reporter’s Eye View
Clay had arrived in the parking lot just in time to see the commotion. First, Donna had stormed out of the ER, Wade on her heels. Then the couple did a little tug of war at the driver’s door. When Wade moved to the passenger’s side, Clay noted movement from the ER entrance. David Harris turning away.
“What did I just miss?” Clay said out loud, mentally kicking himself for not arriving five minutes earlier.
Later, when the Bronco pulled out of the parking lot, Clay slipped out of his Jeep and sauntered into the building. He looked first to the reception area then to the waiting area, which would have been empty had it not been for the lone figure sitting in the far right corner, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.
“Harris,” Clay said, approaching.
David looked up.
Clay gave him a wry smile, sat next to him, and patted him hard on the back, the manly equivalent to a woman’s hug to another woman in need.
“Ah, my man,” he said. “I understand.”
“Do you?” David asked.
Clay couldn’t help but notice that David’s voice quivered just a bit.
Clay nodded. “Yeah. I do.” He stood. “Come on. What’s say you and I go have a cup of coffee and talk about this? Anything you want to know about the deputy, ol’ Wade out there, whatever. I’m your source for information.”
David also nodded as he stood. “I could use a friend right about now,” he said.
Evangeline
52
Heart-Stirring Wedding
Vernon called first thing—and I do mean first thing—Saturday morning to wish me a happy wedding day.
“Happy wedding day to you too,” I mumbled, caught somewhere between sleep and dreams.
“This time tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs. Vernon Vesey.”
I smiled, my eyes still closed, and stretched under the mounds of covers on my bed. “Long live the queen,” I said.
“And king,” he reminded me. “Are you packed?”
I nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”
“You packed for warm weather, right?”
Peggy and I had spent all day Thursday at the Silverthorne outlets shopping for my honeymoon trousseau. “I did.”
“Did you pack a bikini?” he teased.
I pulled the cover over my head. “I did not.” The very notion was enough to upset my sensibilities. “Vernon?” I said finally.
“Yes, Mrs. Vesey?”
“I have to go now. Today is, as you may know, my wedding day.”
He chuckled, and we ended the call. I had no sooner replaced the phone to its receiver than Peggy bustled into my room, looking radiant for so early in the day. I peeked one eye at her. “Good morning, sister dear,” I said.
Peggy waltzed to a nearby window and jerked open the thick chenille drapes. A ray of sunshine, muted by the sheers behind the draperies, shot through the room. “Happy is the bride the sun shines on,” she sang.
I pushed myself up in the bed as Matthew came in, dressed in his pj’s and a maroon satin robe and carrying a heavy silver tray laden with Mama’s silver coffee service and two bone china cups and saucers. “For the bride and her sister,” he announced.
Peggy turned from the window. “Put it on the dresser, Matthew.”
Matthew was obedient as a butler. I giggled.
Peggy waved him out of the room. “I can handle it from here,” she said, then began to pour our coffee.
I smiled at her. “Thank you, Peggy,” I said. “You are making this day all the more special.”
She presented me with my cup of coffee. “We’ve got until this afternoon before we have to start getting you dressed and ready. With that new haircut you only have to shampoo and gel.” She turned toward the closet, where my gown hung on an outside hook from the top of the door. “Oh, Evangeline. You are going to be the most stunning bride.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “I have to admit, I did a good job picking this out.” I widened my eyes. “I went out all by myself and bought it. I want it to be a surprise for everyone.”
Peggy turned and smiled at me, then walked over to the dresser and prepared her own cup of coffee. “So, what do you want to do as we ready ourselves for this day of days?”
I set my coffee cup and saucer on my bedside table and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “There’s something I need to take care of first thing. Then, I suppose... relax until time to panic.”
Peggy took a sip of her coffee. “What do you need to do?”
I slipped into my terry robe as I shook my head. “I’m going to shower and get dressed now.”
Peggy was on my heels as I made my way into the bathroom. “What do you need to do?” she repeated.
I stopped and turned to face her. “It’s just something I need to do, Peggy.” I smiled at her. “Don’t fret. I won’t be gone long, and I promise I’m not going to see Vernon.”
She narrowed her eyes at me but didn’t push any further. Peggy was older, but at least she knew when to leave her little sister alone.
I pulled my car into the trailer park behind the Gold Rush Tavern, guiding it toward the trailer I knew belonged to Doreen and her daughter Velvet. I shut off the engine, then exited the car quietly but with an air of assurance that came from who knows where. God above, no doubt.
I knocked on the door and waited for the minute or two it took Doreen to answer the door. It was after ten o’clock, but I’d obviously roused her from her slumber. She was wearing an oversized, longsleeved T-shirt and a pair of thick socks, and her scraggly hai
r was pulled back in what at one time might have been a ponytail.
“Good gosh,” she growled. A wave of morning breath tinged with ashtray breath met me full force. “Don’t you have anything better to do this morning? Aren’t you getting married in a few hours?”
I kept my eyes on her bloodshot ones. “May I come in?”
She put one fist on a hip and said, “What for?”
I sighed. “Doreen, it’s cold out here. May I come in? Now, the proper thing for you to do is step aside and allow me entrance.”
She complied but not without muttering, “Hoity-toity.”
I ignored the jab. I stepped into the tiny living room with its secondhand furniture and stained carpet and said, “Is your daughter here?”
Doreen walked over to the bar separating the kitchen from the living room and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “How should I know?” she asked, pulling a cigarette from the pack. “She’s a grown woman. We don’t keep tabs on each other.”
I watched as she lit her cigarette, then glanced over to the sofa. I’d thought to suggest we sit down, then decided against it. I would say what I had to say standing right where I was. “Look, Doreen,” I began. “I just wanted to come by and say that... you and I... you and I used to be friends...”
Doreen coughed out a laugh. “Oh yeah? When was that?” She drew on her cigarette and blew the smoke upward.
“When we were children. I know that was a long time ago, but... what I’m trying to say is... I forgive you, Doreen.”
Doreen stared at me for a full minute before saying, “You forgive me? You forgive me?”
I raised my chin. “Yes, I do.”
“For what?”
I pressed my lips together before answering. “For taking Vernon from me when we were younger.”
“We were twelve,” she barked. She turned and paraded around the room in an obvious search for an ashtray. Finding one overflowing with old butts jutting out every which way, she flicked her ashes on their remains as she shook her head. “You are really something, Evangeline Benson. Coming here with your forgiveness for something that happened when we were knee high to grasshoppers.” She took another draw. “Well, I don’t need your forgiveness.”
The Potluck Club—Takes the Cake Page 28