No Exchanges, No Returns

by Laurie Kellogg

  He still had a month to convince her they could be. Right here with him.

  ~*~

  Andy was going to kill her when she found out she’d been set up.

  Casey mixed a couple of spoonfuls of mayonnaise into a large bowl of shrimp and pasta shells and then added some grated carrot, celery, scallions, green peas, and chopped hard boiled eggs.

  When David had told her he’d made a date to play golf with Paul after church on Sunday, she’d invited Andy to spend the afternoon with her by the pool and to stay for supper.

  It was an inspired plan. Unfortunately, the only chance of avoiding her friend’s wrath over her matchmaking was to play dumb as a post.

  After all, could she help it if David happened to invite Paul back to the house for a swim after a hot day playing golf? She just hoped he remembered to stop at the farm stand to pick up the tomatoes and corn.

  Chuckling to herself, she slid the bowl into the refrigerator next to the cucumber salad and arched her back. It seemed with every day that passed the ache quadrupled. She didn’t know how she would make it through another four weeks.

  Of course, she deserved every twinge of discomfort she had this afternoon. She’d done way too much the previous day, vacuuming and dusting the entire house so the housekeeper wouldn’t run the other way when she started on Monday. When David got home and found her scrubbing the powder room, he’d been furious.

  Men.

  Casey pulled four steaks out of the freezer and climbed the back staircase to change into her swimsuit. She winced and paused on the landing to rub her belly through another Braxton Hicks contraction. Her stomach was as hard as a bowling ball today and nearly twice as big. An afternoon floating around the pool with Andy sounded heavenly.

  Seconds after Casey finished smearing on some sunscreen and wiggling into her bathing suit, she heard her friend’s car pull into the driveway. She managed to make it downstairs to open the front door before Andy had a chance to ring the bell.

  “Take heart, I’ve arrived bearing junk food.” Andy chuckled as she strolled into the house, waving giant bags of peanut butter cups and cheese puffs. “I’ve got a major case of PMS, and your waistline is shot anyway, so today is a perfect day for us to pig out.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need any encouragement. Paul would have a fit if he saw what I’ve been eating lately.”

  “Well, he’s not here. So enjoy yourself.”

  Casey bit her lip.

  Andy peered at her. “He’s not here, is he?”

  “No, of course not. Do you see him?” Casey led the way to the kitchen, rubbing the small of her back. “I already told you the guys are playing golf this afternoon.”

  “Good.” Andy visibly relaxed and stripped down to the bikini she’d worn under her shorts and tank top. “You look really uncomfortable today.”

  “I am. But I only have myself to blame. I did way too much yesterday and this morning. I’ll feel better once I’m in the pool.”

  Casey poured a couple of glasses of lemonade and carried them out the French doors to the deck. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m jumping right in.”

  “Jumping?” Andy laughed, closing the French doors. “If you do, there won’t be any water left for me to swim in.”

  “Thanks. Some friend you are.”

  “You know I’m only teasing you. You look beautiful. Cheer up.” Andy massaged her shoulders as Casey set the drinks on the glass patio table. “It’s only a few more weeks.”

  “Try more like a whole month,” Casey muttered and strolled down the deck’s three steps to the pool. She dipped her toes in the cool, clear water to test the temperature and descended the stairs at the shallow end.

  The air trapped under her maternity suit caused the top to billow out, making her look even more enormous. At this point, she didn’t care. The weightless feeling in the water felt wonderful. “I have to warn you. Now that I’m in here, you may never get me out.”

  Andy sat on the side of the pool and dangled her feet in the water. “So what’d David say when you showed him the dating service brochure I gave you?”

  “Don’t ask. It wasn’t anything I’d repeat.” She grabbed the inflatable raft and draped herself across it, kicking her feet. “Just let it suffice to say he tore it into two dozen pieces.”

  “What was he upset over? Did he think you were insinuating he needed help getting a date?”

  “Beats me. I have a feeling he misunderstood and thought I was considering using the service to find someone for myself.”

  “Sounds like he’s jealous.” Andy grinned.

  Which might be meaningless. “No guy wants to share. But you know better than anyone that lots of them have no problem spreading themselves around at the same time.”

  “Ain’t that the truth?” Andy rolled her eyes. “But it doesn’t seem like David wants that, either.”

  No, it didn’t. If he weren’t so terrified of commitment, she might actually find some comfort in his volatile reaction.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon paddling around the pool, chatting with Andy. Despite how much better she felt at first, as the day wore on, the nagging ache in her back became more and more insistent. Three times she had to drag herself out of the pool to use the bathroom.

  Finally, at four-thirty, she hauled herself up the pool’s steps. Her fingers and toes were like raisins from soaking all afternoon. “You know, I’m really not feeling very well. I think eating those peanut butter cups and cheese puffs gave me the runs.”

  She winced at a cramp in her belly.

  Andy climbed out of the pool after her. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “How about rubbing my lower back? Remember the counter pressure thing Tammy taught us in class. That would feel pretty good right now.”

  Andy’s gaze narrowed. “Casey, that technique is for back labor. Are you sure this ache you’ve had all day isn’t contractions?”

  The thought had crossed her mind several times, but on every occasion, she thought of how frequently David was awakened in the middle of the night for diaper rash and earaches, and she recalled Paul joking about how often he was dragged to the hospital for false labor. Whenever the possibility of genuine contractions flitted through her mind, she’d rejected it.

  “I still have a whole month to go.”

  “Babies don’t have day planners, dummy.” Andy chuckled. “They don’t always arrive on schedule. Besides tomorrow is Labor Day, isn’t it?”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Maybe you should’ve called Paul and talked to him about how you felt.”

  “I didn’t want to interrupt his golf game for a little backache.” She would’ve felt like a colossal idiot for pulling him off the course for something stupid like false labor.

  “From what I’m seeing, it’s not a little ache. Why not call him now? If the guys aren’t finished playing, they’ve got to be darn close to it.”

  “Exactly. What’s the point? They should be here any—”

  “What!” Andy shrieked. “Paul’s coming here?”

  Ooops. “I’m sorry. I was just tryin’ to help. I thought if you spent some more time with—”

  “That’s it! If he’s showing up,”—Andy yanked open one of the French doors—“I’m outta here.”

  “Please don’t go.” Casey hobbled after her into the house, doubled over from the pain in her belly.

  Andy spun around and froze, staring at her. “Oh, my gosh. You really are in labor, aren’t you?”

  “Now that you mention it, yes, I think I might be.” She panted, closing the door. “Ever since I got out of the pool, my stomach has been in a constant knot. What am I gonna do? It’s too soon.”

  “The first thing we have to do is get you to the hospital.” Andy stepped into her denim shorts and slid her feet into her sandals. “Maybe I should call for an ambulance.”

  “No. You drive me. It’ll be faster than waiting for the rescue squad.”

  Sh
e thought about the babies she’d seen in the ICU and how many problems Brianna had suffered as a preemie, and she shuddered.

  “Don’t worry.” Andy hugged her. “You’re not that early. Paul told me babies aren’t even considered pre-term after thirty-seven weeks.”

  “Can you go get me something to wear? I don’t want to show up at the hospital in a bathing suit.”

  “Sure.” Andy headed for the steps. “How about a sundress?”

  “Fine. There’s a few of them in the closet. Just hurry.” Casey paced the family room and rubbed her belly. The contractions seemed as if they were right on top of each other. Which meant, if she really was in labor, she must be pretty far along. David was going to have a fit that she hadn’t called him.

  “How’s this?” Andy trotted down the steps, holding out a pale yellow dress dotted with tiny blue flowers.

  “It’s fine.” Casey took the garment into the powder room and tugged off her bathing suit. Slipping the dress over her head, she heard the hum of the garage door opener.

  Thank God. David was home.

  She stepped out of the bathroom and called to Andy. “You didn’t by chance bring me down any underwear did you?”

  Andy cringed. “Sorry. I didn’t think of it. I’ll go get you a pair.”

  Casey gasped as water gushed from between her legs, soaking the hallway’s hardwood floor. “Don’t bother.”

  With the next contraction she felt as if she had to go to the bathroom again. Oh, dear God, not here. “Andy,” she said through her gritted teeth, “I think you’d better go tell Paul and David to hurry up and haul their gorgeous butts in here.”

  ~*~

  David set his golf clubs down in the laundry room and stiffened at Andy’s panicked voice saying, “Whatever you do, don’t push!”

  Push? What the hell? He dashed into the house and froze at the sight of Casey’s pale face twisted in pain. “Why the hell didn’t you call me?”

  “I didn’t realize”—pant—“I was actually in labor”—pant—“until ten minutes ago.”

  “And you wanna push already?” he asked, setting the bag with the corn and tomatoes on the counter.

  Casey nodded.

  “I think maybe she’s been in labor all afternoon.” Andy helped her into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Go call for an ambulance,” David told Andy. “Damn it, Casey, how could you not realize it?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed and burst into tears. “It’s so early, I guess I just wouldn’t let myself believe it.”

  Oh, jeez, now he’d made her cry. “I’m sorry, Tinkerbelle.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. Pauuuul!” he hollered.

  His friend’s car had been right behind him when he’d pulled into the driveway. What had happened to him?

  “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout.”

  David spun around to find Paul standing in the open laundry room doorway. “Do something. She’s havin’ the baby—right now!”

  “Is she fully dilated?”

  “How the hell should I know? I just got here, too.”

  Andy hung up the phone. “The police are dispatching a patrol car and a rig right away.”

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Casey sniffled. “I thought first babies were supposed to take hours.”

  “Casey, admit it, it’s been hours,” Andy tattled.

  “It’s a little unusual for a first baby to be an emergency delivery,” Paul admitted, “but it’s not unheard of.” He tossed Andy his keys. “Go get my medical bag out of my car and leave the front door open so the rescue squad can come right in when they get here.”

  David rubbed Casey’s back. “Cheer up. You’re one of those rare lucky women who breeze through childbirth.”

  Casey rammed her elbow into his gut and panted through her teeth. “You call this lucky?”

  “Let’s take a look and see if you’re as far along as you seem.” Paul helped her slide to the edge of her seat and knelt in front of her.

  “Take my word for it.” She gasped. “This baby is coming—now!”

  Paul quirked an eyebrow up at David. “Mom usually knows best. Just in case she’s right, go get something to wrap the baby in.”

  While Paul checked her progress, David sprinted into the laundry room and thankfully found a stack of freshly laundered towels waiting for him on top of the dryer. He carried them back to the family room and found Casey lying on the floor with Paul kneeling between her knees. “Well, what’s the verdict?”

  “Ten centimeters, a hundred percent effaced, and fully engaged. This is gonna happen right here.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Casey whimpered.

  “Shhh....it’s okay.” David squatted and stroked her damp hair. “It’s no big deal. We’ll be able to tease our son the rest of his life about being born in the kitchen.”

  The front storm door slammed, and a second later, Andy loped back in and set Paul’s bag down next to him. “The ambulance should only be a few more minutes.”

  “That’s all the time we’ve got.” Paul stood and strolled to the sink. “The baby’s head is about to crown. We’ll deliver Casey here and then transport them to the hospital.”

  Damn. David sucked in several deep breaths to compose himself. How could his buddy be so calm at a time like this?

  When Paul finished scrubbing, he instructed Andy to spread one of the towels on the floor while he pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. “Casey, this will be easiest for you if you squat over the pitcher’s mound and let David support you from the shortstop position. I’ll play catcher, and Andy can act as cheerleader and umpire from behind home plate.”

  Andy released an amused sputter. “Most guys use baseball analogies for foreplay.”

  “Ahhh, but they’re just running the bases.” Paul winked at her. “We’re goin’ for the pennant.”

  Chapter 16

  “Flirt on your own time!” David snapped at his friend and helped Casey get into position.

  “Lighten up, Dave. She just havin’ a baby.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s my baby.” He slid his arms around Casey and settled her back against him. “Comfortable, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah, right.” She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing. “Oh, man, it hurts.”

  “You’re doing great, Mom,” Paul encouraged her. “Work with the contraction.”

  Turning on her heels, Andy dashed out to the front foyer.

  “What’s the matter? You squeamish?” Paul taunted.

  She returned a second later with the oval mirror Casey had hung by the front door. “No, I’m not squeamish,” Andy mimicked Paul’s mocking tone. “I just thought the parents might like to see their baby born.”

  “Good thinking.” He smiled at her. “You might make a decent nurse yet.”

  “Forget it, I’m already cheerleader and umpire.” Andy angled the mirror toward David and Casey. “How’s that? Can you see?”

  David nodded, too awestruck to speak as Casey pushed the baby’s blond head out into Paul’s waiting palm.

  “Okay, catch your breath before we deliver his shoulders,” Paul told her as he cleared the baby’s mouth.

  “Owww-ow-ow, it feels like I’m s-squeezing out a small”—she grunted—“RV.”

  David chuckled past the fist-sized lump in his throat. Even now, she still had a sense of humor. He pressed his face to her damp, chlorine-scented hair. Dear God, he’d be lost without her. He was supposed to have another month to convince her not to leave him. “He’s beautiful, Casey. Later, remind me to tell you how much I love you.”

  Paul guided the baby onto a clean fluffy towel and laughed. “I suggest you stop calling your daughter he. You’re gonna give her a complex.”

  “Oh-my-gosh.” Casey cried and collapsed back against David’s chest, panting. “It’s a little girl.”

  Hot damn. They’d actually had a daughter. His mother was going to bankrupt his dad, buying all the little pink
frilly outfits she’d never been able to dress her two sons in.

  Paul suctioned the baby and wiped her off, serenaded by her angry squalling. “I’d say she’s a little over five pounds.”

  David kissed Casey’s neck and murmured, “Listen to her. She’s gonna be an opera singer.”

  “If you nurse her, the placenta will deliver faster, and it’ll slow down your bleeding.” Paul wrapped David’s wrinkled daughter in a clean towel and laid her in Casey’s outstretched arms. “What’d you think, Dave? About a nine?”

  “Nine?” Casey cuddled the baby. “What’s wrong with a ten? She’s perfect. She looks just like my sister’s baby picture.”

  “Paul’s talking about her Apgar score,” David explained with a catch in his voice. “Newborns rarely score a ten in the first minute. She’ll pink up in a bit.”

  “That was incredible,” Andy murmured, helping unbutton one of the straps on Casey’s sundress.

  “She’s beautiful,” David whispered in Casey’s ear as he watched his tiny daughter latch onto her mother’s nipple. “She’s got a good sucking reflex for barely thirty-five weeks.”

  “She does,” Paul agreed.

  David chuckled. “You had a girl just to get on my mom’s good side, didn’t you?”

  Casey smiled at him. “Are you disappointed she’s not a boy?”

  “Hell, no. I never expected to ever have a daughter. We can have a son next time.”

  The storm door opened in the foyer, and a uniformed policeman poked his head in. “Dr. Lambert? It’s Sergeant Jack Wallace.”

  “Back here,” David called.

  The officer Wallace tromped down the hallway and scanned the scene in the kitchen. “It looks as if you’ve got things pretty well under control. Congratulations, Mrs. Lambert. Is the baby a boy or a girl?”

  The light of joy in Casey’s eyes dimmed. “Thank you, but I’m not—”

  “It’s a girl,” David cut her off.

  A knock on the storm door preceded a parade of rescue squad members who were all disappointed they’d missed the main event. Not many of their calls were for such a joyous occasion—especially on a holiday weekend when the motor vehicle accident rate shot sky-high.