Very Merry Wingmen: A Holiday Collection

by Daisy Prescott

“Beautiful.” Standing, I pull her into my arms.

  “I probably look like a wet rat.”

  “A beautiful, satiated, wet rodent.” I kiss her lips. “Want me to wash your back now?”

  Her warm hand wraps around my hard-on. “I have another idea.”

  Releasing my aching cock, she once again faces the wall, and wiggles her butt.

  “Are you sure?” I stroke myself, seeking some relief at the same time I picture myself buried inside of her from behind. “Is this angle okay?”

  She nods over her shoulder. “We need to have as much sex as possible so the six week wait won’t seem as long.”

  If only sex worked that way where we could bank it for the dry spells.

  I don’t need to be asked twice. She’s slick from her orgasm as I slide the tip along her entrance. Gripping her hips, I sink inside easily, and we both moan when I’m all the way in.

  “This won’t be slow and gentle.” Already my balls tighten with pressure and I haven’t even begun to thrust yet.

  “Who said anything about gentle? I’m not made of eggshells.” She grinds her ass against me.

  “Damn, Idaho. What did I do to deserve you?” Sometimes I still slip and use her old nickname.

  “Less talking, more hot shower sex.” She folds her arms and rests her head on her forearms on the tile.

  Angling her hips back, I change the angle slightly. With a groan, I slide out all the way to the tip before plunging back in her warmth in one quick thrust.

  “Like that,” she mumbles into her arm.

  I repeat the movement again and again until the shower fills with the sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin. My moans mix with her sighs.

  If I could, I’d stay buried in her all morning. There’s no place I’d rather be than totally consumed by Hailey. If only that were possible.

  The point of no return speeds toward me.

  “I’m close,” she says, her voice needy.

  I slip my hand around her hip and find her clit again as I try to hold off my orgasm.

  With my thumb, I apply pressure to where she needs it as I keep thrusting into her.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” she chants as she clenches around me. “I’m, oh God, don’t stop.”

  I focus on drawing out her pleasure even as my balls tighten.

  Mentally, I give myself a trophy for holding off coming until she does.

  The pressure releases as I come inside of her with one final thrust. I lean forward and rest my head against her back, kissing the skin along her spine.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as soon as I can focus.

  “Fabulous.”

  “We could spend the rest of the day doing that.” I shift my hips to prove my point.

  “Tom.”

  One syllable and I know my cause is lost.

  Reluctantly, I slide out of her, and grab the body wash. “Fine. But I think we’re going to be late. I’m happy to tell the baby coach why.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Her lips twitch as she tries to appear stern.

  “We both know I would.” I soap up her back and then gently and thoroughly wash her breasts.

  “I think they’re clean now.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” I slip my soap hands over her belly and between her thighs where she’s still slick.

  “Water’s going tepid.”

  “We need a bigger water heater. Or one of the tankless kind. I’ll get one installed.” I’m serious even though it won’t fix the issue today. “I can see if a plumber can come by while we’re in Coupeville.”

  Hailey scoots by me to rinse off in the quickly cooling spray. “Ah, you finally admit you’re going to baby class.”

  Damn it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I park next to Roslyn’s giant Mercedes SUV tank in the hospital’s parking lot. Knowing Dan will be suffering through this class with me gives me small comfort. I hope he brought the garlic knots.

  “Ready?” Hailey asks.

  With a tooth-filled grin, I give her two thumbs up.

  She’s not buying my fake enthusiasm. “Come on, it’s going to be informative and maybe even fun.”

  Still doubting the fun part, I manage not to drag my feet as we cross the lot. I’ve never liked hospitals. Even when good things happen here, like my child being born. I still think of the horrible day Pops died. Passing through the main waiting room, I see the ghosts of my family sitting in the chairs, stuck between before and after.

  Once again, we’re here in a moment of before. Before Hailey goes into labor. Before our child is born. Before we go home as a family of three. This could be the last time we leave this hospital as a couple. Before we’re parents.

  The weight of change hits me like a softball to the chest. I rub the heaviness on my solar plexus.

  “You okay?” Hailey asks. “You look a little pale.”

  “I’ll be okay.” I suck in some extra oxygen and focus on her face. Her still damp hair is twisted up in braids around her head and her face is clean of all makeup. Knowing this smart, funny, beautiful woman somehow loves me helps calm my nerves. “Thinking about Pops.”

  A line appears between her brows as she frowns. “I miss him, too.”

  I squeeze her hand. Two years ago when he passed, we weren’t an official couple or an official anything. Feels strange to think of the time before Hailey was mine. “It’s okay. I just hate hospitals, especially this one.”

  A woman in dark green scrubs and a name tag gives me a dirty look as she passes us in the corridor.

  “Don’t take it personally. I’m sure you’re great.” I flash her a toothy smile.

  Hailey points at a hall to our left. “This way.”

  Pastels and baby animals decorate the walls of the new hallway. Obviously we’ve reached the maternity wing.

  “No whales,” I whisper to Hailey as we pass through the weird tribute to our mammal cousins.

  “Wait, there’s an orca and her baby.” Hailey points to the far end of the hall where an ocean scene fills the wall.

  “No narwhals? I see otters and dolphins. What about our horned friends of the north?” I pretend to study the mural.

  “Quit stalling. We’re here.” She stops in front of an open door.

  Following her inside, I scan the room for Dan and Roslyn. Set up in the back row, there’s an open spot next to them. I don’t recognize anyone else in the room. Which is kind of a relief given my single years on the island. I’m optimistic this day won’t be as bad as I’ve imagined as we greet Dan and Ros, and sit down.

  “What’s all this stuff?” I poke the basket on the table in front of us.

  “Educational supplies,” Roslyn deadpans. As always, she’s polished and put together—not an auburn hair out of place and her outfit is all pale gray and soft. Dan looks like an old punk rocker in his faded Ramones T-shirt and sleeves of tattoos. If I were a betting man, I’d never have thought the local pizza guy would get a woman like Ros, but it turns out that Dan’s anything but your average dough jockey.

  “Did you bring the snacks?” I ask, eyeing both baskets of blankets, bottles, diapers, and baby dolls.

  I’m not sure if we’re allowed to rifle through the baskets before class starts, but I can’t resist picking up our dark-haired doll.

  “No, I didn’t think you were serious.” Dan leans back in his chair.

  “I’m always serious about pizza.” Holding our doll by the back of its head, I jab its plastic fist at Dan. I switch to a doll appropriate falsetto and say, “Unless it has fruit on it. Fruit on pizza is the devil’s work. Satan made you do it.”

  “And now I’m going to have nightmares.” Hailey removes the doll from my grip and returns it to the basket.

  I’m still amused, so I tuck my hand underneath the doll’s back and raise it into a sitting position. “No one puts baby in the basket.”

  This earns me a chuckle from Dan and a snort from Roslyn. And nothing from Hailey. Undeterred, I switch gears.

&
nbsp; “Do you remember the dancing baby when we were kids?” I ask, completely amused by myself.

  I’m in the middle of a decent version of the running man given the baby doesn’t have bendable knees when our coach walks through the doorway.

  “Ah, you must be Tom Donnely,” a blond woman a little older than us says from the front of the room. “I’ve heard about you. I’m LuAnn and I’ll be your instructor today. Think of me as Wikipedia for all of your questions about what to expect during labor.”

  Hailey groans while Roslyn doesn’t hold back her laughter. I’m a grown man in his thirties, but I still feel like a kid who got busted by the sub for clowning around.

  At least I haven’t slept with the baby coach.

  I’d like to say class improves after my dancing doll icebreaker, but it turns out baby wrangling is tougher than it looks. Apparently, we had homework to read before class. The three other couples have all read it, leaving the four of us in the back row out of the loop during the discussion. Then we move on to the baskets and the practical stuff.

  Swaddling isn’t exactly like rolling a burrito, but it’s close.

  Diapers have fronts and backs.

  And there’s a lot more to quality burping than I was told in junior high when I thought being able to burp the alphabet should be an Olympic sport.

  We take a short break, mostly for the pregnant women to pee. Exhausted, I slide down in my chair.

  “You ready for all this?” I ask Dan, gesturing to the baskets.

  “Probably not, but we won’t know until we’re in it. Like most things in life.” He sounds resigned, but in a good way.

  “Are you worried about messing up?” I allow myself to be serious for a moment.

  “Of course. I think screwing up is inevitable. Perfect parents don’t exist. No class or coaching will teach us what we’ll learn by doing.” He’s not resigned, he’s on another plane of acceptance. Calm, self-assured, and confident.

  Then there’s me. “I’m expecting it to be a shit show.”

  Dan chuckles. “Most definitely.”

  “How do you stay so calm?” I ask.

  “Practice. We all deal with the unknown in our own ways. You process with humor. Roslyn makes a plan. Hailey focuses on the present. I focus inward. I think John does the same.”

  I shift in my seat to face him more fully, resting my elbow on the table. “Do you ever get scared? What if something happens to Hailey during labor? Or the baby?”

  I’m not sure if it’s nerves, or the soothing comfort of all the baby animals, but I’m bearing my soul to Dan like we’re in a support group. I guess in some ways we are.

  “Don’t let your mind go there. We can’t control everything.”

  “I hate that,” I confess, my voice low. “I hate I can’t always protect her from pain.”

  “This is where faith comes into play.” He crosses his ankle over his knee. “Like the George Michael song, you have to have faith.”

  “You mean like church and praying?” I haven’t been to a church in years outside of weddings and funerals. Our wedding was at a vineyard and the ceremony didn’t include praying. At least not formally. Can’t think of the last time I said a formal prayer other than a quick “oh shit, help me” in a moment of panic. I’m not even the kind of man who makes a bargain with God. Or the devil.

  Dan’s voice brings me out of my head. “If that works for you. Or trusting in some higher power, whatever you decide that might be. Have faith everything will work out for the best.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” My heart clenches into a tight ball and stops beating for a second at the thought of losing Hailey or our baby.

  “You deal with it. Somehow. You figure out a way to make it through the tough times.” He meets my stare and I see wisdom in his dark eyes.

  “Hey, what are you two talking about?” Hailey asks, slowly settling into her chair by bracing her hand on my shoulder.

  “Pizza,” Dan answers.

  “Still? You’re like a stray dog begging for scraps, Tom.” Smiling, Hailey shakes her head.

  “I can’t help it. Now I’m really hungry. I didn’t eat a proper breakfast.” I slide my gaze to Hailey’s face. From the way her cheeks heat, she remembers exactly what I ate this morning.

  “I have cash if you want to raid the vending machines.” Roslyn pulls out her wallet. “Get me a Twix and a bag of Sun Chips if you’re going.”

  I wave away her money. “I’ve got it. Dan? Hailey? You want anything?”

  “Surprise me. But no pork rinds or those awful orange crackers with the weird peanut butter. And no licorice. Or spicy,” Hailey rattles off her don’ts. “Want me to write it down?”

  “Not needed. I’ll get you plain Lays and cookies.”

  “You know me so well.” She gives me a soft smile. “But not shortbread. Oreos or the mini chocolate chip ones.”

  “I’ll be back.” I kiss my wife before leaving.

  Meandering the familiar halls, I’m struck with another hospital memory. Of being here when Lori had Noah. Still on the down low, Hailey and I arrived together, but pretended we hadn’t. We sat with my dad and ate snacks out of the vending machine that night, too. Seems like another lifetime now.

  I locate the machine and slide in my debit card. Ten dollars and an armful of snacks later, I return to the classroom with my bounty.

  I’m enjoying my Doritos right up until the instructor tells us we’re going to watch a video depicting various birthing options.

  When the lights go up, I’m still holding the half full bag of chips, my mouth refusing to close from what I just witnessed. I should’ve closed my eyes during the water birth, but I couldn’t look away.

  I wish I had. I’ll never look at a kiddie pool the same way.

  “Well, that was interesting.” Looking a little rough for wear, Dan slaps his palms on his jeans and rubs his thighs.

  Roslyn’s skin is paler than normal.

  Afraid of what I’ll see, I haven’t looked at Hailey. Instead, I set my unfinished snack on the table and brush my hands over my face.

  The couple in the front row animatedly chats with LuAnn while most of the room sits in stunned silence.

  “So my options are to be sliced open like a haggis or be ripped open by trying to pass a pumpkin through a toilet paper tube.” Hailey’s voice wobbles like she’s about to cry.

  Slinging my arm around her shoulders, I kiss her temple. “You okay?”

  Peeking at her from the corner of my eye, I know we’re in trouble.

  Her eyes are glassy and full of tears. “I don’t think so.”

  Roslyn leans around me. “Hundreds of thousands of women give birth every day. We can do this.”

  Hailey shakes her head as tears spill from her wide eyes. “Why didn’t Lori tell me this? She’s my best friend. Talk about betrayal. Why the silence? There’s some big conspiracy and secret keeping. No one discusses the pooping or the incontinence or the flapping vulva. It’s all lies and happy diaper commercials.”

  We sit quietly as she melts down.

  “I should’ve thought this out better. Instead I got swept up in the idea of having a baby, completely forgetting the part where the baby has to exit my body. Have you seen my belly? This kid is huge. I’m doomed. I’ll probably never walk right again. Or be able to sneeze or laugh without wetting myself. I’ll be buying Depends at Costco with all the little old ladies—”

  I interrupt her. “Breathe.”

  She inhales a shaky breath.

  “Now count to ten and slowly exhale for ten.” While stroking her hair, I repeat the instructions I saw in the movie.

  “Excellent, Tom,” LuAnn says, walking over to us. “We’re about to get on the floor and do some breathing exercises, but I see you already know what you’re doing. Why don’t you come to the front and demonstrate?”

  “Uh, sure.” I change positions so I can stare at Hailey. “Are you okay?”

  “We’ve made a terrible mistake.” S
he wipes her cheeks.

  “No, we haven’t. Best decisions I’ve ever made have been about you. We’ll get through this. Together.”

  She blinks and a couple more tears fall on her cheeks. I sweep them away with my thumbs. Part of me still wants to throw up after the video, but I know I have to be strong for Hailey.

  “I love you,” I tell her, then kiss her damp cheek.

  “I know.” She gives me a weak smile.

  We all settle on the floor with cushions and yoga mats to make it more comfortable. If someone were to listen outside the door, they might confuse us with a sex therapy class with all the heavy breathing and grunting that takes place.

  The focus and extra oxygen calm Hailey, and she recovers from her mini freak-out. Might be the breathing or the visualization exercises. Or the fact that the human mind has an amazing ability to block traumatizing memories.

  No one speaks on the way out to our cars. Probably still in shock. I know I am. I’ll never be able to look at vaginas and lasagna the same way again.

  “You have Dorito dust on your face.” Roslyn breaks the silence.

  I rub my cheek. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Kind of looked like tribal war paint during the breathing circle,” Dan says.

  “And that was okay, why?” I ask.

  “Never said it was.” He shrugs and laughs. At my expense.

  “At least I’ll never see those people again.” I lift the tail of my shirt and rub it over my face.

  “It’s the island. Eventually, you run into everyone.”

  “Not if I never go into Langley again. Avoid the Dog House. Only use Whidbey Joe’s coffee huts. Quit my job. Stop shopping at Payless Foods. We can get all our food and toilet paper at Costco off island. Buying in bulk is better for the environment.”

  “All that effort to avoid a group of people who saw you with cheese dust on your face? Your naked ass is hanging all over the island.” Roslyn reminds me of Erik’s calendar.

  “Fuck, I don’t care about looking like a weirdo with my face covered in orange powder. We went through something today. We’re veterans of the same battle. Seeing them might trigger PTSD.” I’m almost serious. “We should have the baby at Harborview.”

  My friends and wife stare at me like I’ve gone full out Apocalypse Now Brando in the jungle.