“Tom,” Hailey touches my arm, “I’ll be fine. I’m sure I have hours and hours of labor to go. Get the truck and I’ll text Diane.”
Lifting my eyebrows in doubt, I study her face. “Are you sure?”
“Fine. But if I do have the baby here, we’re naming him Olaf. Go.” She leans up to kiss my cheek.
I’m halfway down the deck when I catch she called the baby a boy. Grinning, I spin around and yell, “No way our son’s going to be named after a snowman!”
She grins as she goes back inside the bar.
As I cross the street, I spot John and Diane in front of the Clyde. Alene sits on his shoulders, banging out a drumbeat on his head. I reroute to tell them the news.
Diane’s eyes grow big and she’s already crossing the street before I can finish giving them the details.
“Go get your truck,” John reminds me of my mission. “We’ll go to your house and bring your stuff to the hospital.”
With a quick thanks, I jog through the alley and cut through the parking lot to shave off a minute of my trip to the studio.
My lungs burn from the frigid air by the time I reach my rig. Inside, I crank up the heat to warm things up for Hailey.
A paper-thin layer of ice coats my windshield. The wiper blades scratch over it as more tiny pellets hit the surface.
Damn ice. Better we’re going now than later tonight. We might not make it up the island if the wind keeps up. With one main road, a few downed trees can cut us off pretty quick. There’s always the ferry, but if the storm gets bad enough, they’ll stop the runs early tonight.
Honking my horn, I send people scampering out of the way. I pull to a stop in front of the Dog House, not caring I’m going the wrong way on the street. Until I get Hailey to the hospital, I can’t waste another second. She says we have hours, but that’s how those stories on the news about babies born in the back of cabs always start.
Flanking Hailey, Diane and John escort her out the door. I jump out and run around to her side.
“I think she’s having a real contraction,” Diane explains while Hailey pants beside her.
“Hold up.” Hailey lifts her hand and bends forward, breathing heavy.
I freeze and watch her, helpless to do anything.
“You should start timing them,” John tells me. “They’re going to ask when you arrive at the hospital.”
“Right, right.” I scramble for my phone and drop it on the wet asphalt. I cringe before picking it up and exhale when I see the screen isn’t cracked. “Timer.”
My fingers feel too fat to punch in my code or open the timer.
“Here.” Hailey holds out her hand. “I’ll handle the phone while you drive.”
“Contraction over?” I rub her back as I help her around the truck to get in.
“For now.”
Diane leans around me. “Breathe through the pain. Don’t hold your breath. We’ll be right behind you.”
The two of them hug for a second before Diane steps back. Hailey nods, her eyes watery.
“Okay, this truck is going to baby town and I need everyone to get the fuck out of our way,” I tell the crowd of holiday strollers.
Sally’s in the middle of her solo on “Do They Know it’s Christmas Time?” and messes up her words.
Her head spins around to face me as the lights on her yeti sweater blink and flash blue, casting her face in an eerie light. “Baby?”
Shit.
“Gotta go.” I climb into the truck and put it in gear.
“Guess we won’t need to worry about making an announcement,” I tell Hailey. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see Sally pull out her phone and start tapping the screen.
“Saves us the effort.” Hailey types on her own phone and I can hear ringing as she switches to speaker phone. “Hi, Mom. The baby’s coming.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Hailey has several more contractions on the drive to Coupeville. Despite my urge to speed, I follow the posted limits, even slowing further when we hit water on the road and possible black ice. The last thing I want is to end up in a ditch because of impatience.
Beside me, Hailey breathes through another contraction. There’s nothing I can do for her other than to hold her hand and match my breath to hers. When her grip loosens, I know the pain has passed.
“How long was that one?” she asks.
I glance at my phone in its holder on the dashboard. “Thirty seconds.”
“Longest thirty seconds ever,” she mutters. Staring at her own phone and its separate timer, she says, “Closer to eight in between that time.”
“That escalated quickly,” I joke with her. Because if I lose my humor, it will allow the creeping panic to take over. My role is to be strong, to support her through this process.
She half laughs, lacing her fingers through mine.
Tiny ice pellets fling themselves against the roof and windows of the truck, pinging off the metal and glass like miniature BBs. The windshield wipers create a soothing rhythm against the sound of tires on the wet road. Clouds block out any moonlight on the dark two lane road. My brights highlight the falling drops and downed branches from the wind.
“Helluva night,” I say to fill the silence.
Hailey pats her belly. “You better not be teasing us, little one. We could be home in bed, eating ice cream, cuddling with Nameless, and watching Netflix.”
“You realize our entire lives are about to change, right?” So much for being cool about what’s about to happen.
Her laughter fills the cab before ending with a snort. “Yes, I’m aware. This winter will be all of the above, plus breastfeeding and diaper changes.”
“I’m not sure I’m into wearing a diaper. I think we can pause whatever we’re watching long enough for bathroom breaks.”
“Stop, I might actually pee if I laugh more.” A crease forms between her brows. “I think I’m having another contraction.”
“How long has it been?” I reset the timer on my phone as I roll to a stop at the one traffic light in Coupeville.
“Seven minutes and ten seconds.” The words come out in a rush as she breathes through the pain.
“We’re almost there.” I take the right turn and another right to pull into the hospital lot. Parking in front of the doors, I jump out and rush inside, leaving the truck running and Hailey waiting in the cab.
“My wife’s in labor,” I shout as soon as the sliding doors open.
“Where is she?” an older woman with gray hair asks from the desk.
“In the truck.” I gesture in the general direction of the door.
“First baby?” she asks, peering over her glasses at me with her judging eyes.
“Yes. I’ll, uh, go get my wife.”
“Use a wheelchair,” she calls after me.
Weird, but I locate one near the door and push it outside.
Hailey opens the door and stares at the chair.
“Required transportation for my lady,” I use a falsetto voice while making a sweeping bow.
She raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t question the wheelchair or my weird voice.
Once inside, a nurse takes over my driving duties and tells me to check in at the desk while she wheels Hailey away.
I fill out the paperwork as quickly as possible and hand the clipboard back to the woman in the yellow cardigan and glasses.
“Have a seat and someone will be with you,” she tells me without looking up.
“I’m having a baby, I mean, my wife is in labor. Can’t I just go back to her room? I, uh, don’t want to miss anything and she shouldn’t be alone. We have breathing exercises and I have the timer on my phone. For the contractions. We’ve been timing them since they started.” I hurriedly stumble over my words and overshare.
“Sir, have a seat. I promise, you won’t miss the good stuff.” She points a red painted nail at the ER waiting area. Only a few people occupy the uncomfortable chairs.
“Thanks, I’ll stand.”
/> “You do you,” she says and picks up her phone again.
Dismissed, I pace toward the closed doors where Hailey disappeared.
“Sir, don’t think about sneaking in there. Trust me. Everything will be fine.” Cardigan in charge catches me.
“Do you tell everyone that? Because it’s not always true. My grandfather died here a couple of years ago. Not everything was fine then. Bad things happen in the hospital. So excuse me if I’m worried about my wife who is about to have another human exit her body.” Now I’m a combo meal of emotions. “I’ll be over there.”
I walk to the far side of the waiting room and lean against the wall. Elf is playing on the TV angled on the wall in the corner, but the volume is too low to hear. So that’s pointless.
Pacing is better.
Making a long loop from the waiting room, I pace past the desk toward the forbidden doors, past the exit and halfway down the hall but not far enough away I’m out of earshot should someone call my name.
“Tom?” a familiar voice says from behind me.
John and Diane stand a few feet behind me near the cardigan wearing gatekeeper.
“Hey.” Relieved they’re here, I pace closer to them.
“Where’s Hailey? Everything okay?” Diane asks, peering around me to the waiting area.
“They took her back an hour ago and won’t let me see her.” I glare at the gatekeeper.
“Sir, you’ve been here ten minutes. Fifteen tops. You’re probably going to be here a while, so I would encourage you to dig deep and find some patience.”
My brows lower as I glower at the top of her head because she’s already looking down at her phone again.
Diane intervenes. “Can you tell me the OB on call tonight?”
“Dr. Price,” she replies without glancing up at us.
“Wonderful,” Diane says. “We’ll be over here.”
“Can I get anyone a cup of mediocre coffee from the café? It’s only seven thirty, they should still be open,” John offers. “Something to do while we wait?”
“Donnely,” a nurse calls my name. “Donnely?”
“Over here.” I wave at her.
“Come with me.”
“We’ll be here. Let us know when you’re settled in a room.” Diane gives my arm an encouraging squeeze.
Stoic as ever, John nods and pats my shoulder. “She’s going to be fine.”
Coming from him, the words don’t feel hollow. He knows what it’s like to suddenly lose someone he loves.
I follow the nurse through the doors and down a hall lined with curtained rooms. She’s talking about vital signs and fetal monitors, but I’m only half listening. Instead, I hear the beep of various machines and the squeak of her rubber soled clogs on the clean floor.
“Here she is.” Pulling back one of the curtains like she’s revealing a prize on a game show, the nurse reveals Hailey propped up in a hospital bed.
“Hi, stranger,” she happily greets me. “What took you so long? Trouble finding parking?”
“Shit. The truck’s still parked at the curb. Do I have time to move it?” I ask the nurse.
She chuckles and winks at Hailey. “Plenty.”
When I return, Hailey’s by herself, eating ice chips.
“Where’s the nurse? Shouldn’t the nurse be in here?”
Hailey laughs. “We’re going to be here a while. If it wasn’t for the storm and the chance we couldn’t make it back, they’d send us home.”
“So we’re staying?” I eye the world’s most uncomfortable chair next to the bed.
“Don’t worry, we’re moving to the maternity ward and a birthing suite. It’s a bigger room with a cot for you,” the nurse tells us.
“Sweet.” Leaning over the rail, I give her a kiss. “Sexy nightgown by the way.”
“I’ll ask if I can bring one home.” She pets the ugly cotton fabric.
“Are we ready to do this?” I ask.
“No and yes.” Her hand finds mine. “I’m ready not to be a tiny human’s punching bag but I’m scared of the pain.”
Her eyes hold fear and worry. There’s nothing I want more than to erase both, but I’m sure she sees the same behind my eyes.
“We’re going to get through this. Together.” Bending over, I lower my face close to hers so our noses almost touch. All I can see is her face, her beautiful evergreen eyes framed by dark lashes, and the fullness of her bottom lip. She’s my whole world. “I love you and I can’t wait to meet Tom Junior.”
We’ve discussed names and have a running list of favorites, but junior isn’t in the serious running.
“Nice try.” Her smile fades as a contraction begins.
The nurse reappears and checks the monitors.
“Everything looks normal. We’ll be moving you upstairs in a couple of minutes.” Her monotone is probably meant to be reassuring.
Once we’re in the private room, I text John and Diane our new location. Even with their company, time crawls as we wait for Hailey’s labor to progress.
Hours go by and her contractions stall around four minutes apart.
“You two should go home,” I tell John after he yawns for the tenth time.
“Can’t. Big cedar is down on Bayview and we’re cut off. No way to get down to the beach until they clear it.”
“Figures it would be the one stretch of the island with no drive around options.”
“Tell me about it. Did you hear the ferry shut down an hour ago because of the waves? Dan texted me on their way back from Seattle. They caught the last boat. Left early because Ros wasn’t feeling well.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t have the same flu as Ashley,” Diane says with a shudder. “Oh, that was weird.”
“What?” John asks, shifting in his chair to face her.
Diane’s hand rests just below her navel. “Not sure.”
“Do you need the nurse?” Hailey’s finger hovers over the call button.
“No, I’m okay. I think. Mind if I use the bathroom?”
John and I meet eyes when she excuses herself.
He shrugs and stretches out his long legs in front of him. “She’s been having back pain all day, but says it doesn’t feel the same as Alene’s labor. And to quit fussing over her.”
“She is past her due date,” Hailey reminds us.
Diane returns a few minutes later and stands in the doorway to the hall.
“Everything okay?” John asks.
“Uh, I just lost my mucus plug,” she says with a cringe.
Add that to the list of things I didn’t expect to hear tonight. At least she didn’t lose it at the Dog House. Olaf might’ve exploded from information overload.
“Are you in labor?” Hailey asks, hope in her voice.
“I think so. I’m waiting for the nurse.” Diane’s eyes meet John’s. “You better call your aunt and let her know she might have Alene longer than we thought.”
John stands up and stretches. “I’ll be right back.”
After they both disappear, Hailey turns to me. “Isn’t this exciting? Our babies are not only going to grow up together, but might share the same birthday? We can have co-parties.”
“Great.” I fake mirroring her enthusiasm.
Shortly after, John texts me that Diane’s getting admitted. He pops his head in our door and tells us they’re set up in the room next door. When the nurse gives Hailey the go ahead to get out of bed and walk to help her labor progress, her first stop is Diane’s room.
As the minutes crawl closer to midnight, Diane’s labor speeds up much quicker than Hailey’s. From our room, we can hear the sounds and moans of her actively pushing shortly after eleven.
Disappointment creases Hailey’s brow. “Why aren’t I pushing? I’ve been in labor longer.”
“Honey, it’s only been a few hours. This is their second baby. From what I read, labor with the second child is typically quicker.”
She blinks away the tears stuck to her lashes. “You read the ba
by books?”
I nod. “Of course I did. I read the e-books on my phone during lunch so the assholes at work wouldn’t have shit to tease me about.”
“I love you,” she says over the loud grunting and moaning through the wall behind her bed.
“I know.” I softly kiss her forehead, then her temple and each cheek before pressing my lips against hers.
The sounds of labor go quiet and a high-pitched scream announces the arrival of the new baby.
“Will you go check on them?” Hailey asks.
“Uh, I’m really terrified of walking in and seeing Diane’s vagina,” I answer truthfully. “So how about we wait until John comes back?”
My confession makes her laugh.
About half an hour later, John knocks on our door.
“Congratulations,” Hailey says with a tired smile. “How are Mom and baby?”
His eyes go soft and unfocused for a second before a happy grin reveals his teeth. “They’re great. Mack is healthy and Diane’s a champ.”
“That was fast,” I say, envious their wait is over while Hailey’s contractions have stalled completely. At this rate, they might give her Pitocin, and if that doesn’t work, a C-section because her water already broke.
“We barely had time for the epidural before he was ready to come out.”
“I love the name.” Hailey’s voice breaks with emotion.
“His full name is Malcom John Day. For Diane’s father. Mack for short.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” she says through her tears.
“Diane’s resting and trying to get him to nurse, but maybe if you’re up and walking around later you can come for a visit.”
“I’d love that.” A big fat tear rolls down her face.
“Sweetheart, our baby is going to be here soon. There’s no going back now.” I try to comfort her, but I’m not sure my words make a difference. Men are supposed to be strong and tough, but going through labor with my wife only reinforces my belief that women are far stronger and fearless than us.
“You’re doing great,” John reassures her with his calm voice. “It’ll all be over before you know it.”
Easy for him to say. I don’t think they’ve even been at the hospital four hours and they’re done with the hard part.
Very Merry Wingmen: A Holiday Collection Page 14