Locked Out

by Anna Chastain

  “But, Holly, I know you, I know your heart, I see how you are with the kids at school and they’re teenagers; nobody likes teenagers. But you do. You love them and you care for them and you take care of their needs and involve them in the library and get involved in their lives and you’re just so damn good with them. And if you can do it with a teen, you can do it with a baby. There’s a reason they’re so damn cute, you know; makes it easier to deal with them when they’re crying twenty-seven hours a day.”

  Maya likes teenagers too, I know this, because she’s amazing with them, too. And the fact that she thinks that about me bolsters my confidence.

  “I still really don’t think I’m in labor,” I say as I feel a trickle of liquid streaming down my leg. “Oh, damn, it’s finally happened, I’ve peed myself.”

  She takes an abrupt step back, looking down at the floor, and lifting my (Dean’s) t-shirt.

  “Um, honey, you didn’t pee yourself.”

  I look down to the tiny puddle beginning to form on my wood floor.

  “Your water broke.”

  “I need to get a towel to wipe that up, or it could ruin my wood floor.”

  “Yeah, Holly, we also need to get you to a hospital.”

  “Right.”

  “Do you have your bag packed?”

  “Of course.” I said I read all the books, obviously there were also checklists involved.

  “Go get it while I make some phone calls. Or would you like to make the phone calls and I’ll get your bag?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Owwwwwwwwwww.” Have I ever felt pain like this? Never. Do I, in that moment realize it’s only going to get worse and want to curl in a ball and hide? Yes.

  “Okay, come on, we’re going to sit you down on the couch a minute, honey.”

  When my first (acknowledged, post-denial) contraction passes, Maya guides me down the hall and pushes me down on to the sofa.

  “Just stay there, breathe, all that, I’m sure you watched a video today.”

  “I did, actually,” I call after her fleeing body.

  She returns a moment later with my hospital bag, some pants for me, my charger cord, and my cell phone.

  “I’m going to call Doctor Graysen, then we’ll call Dean,” she informs me, and I am perfectly okay with Maya taking over.

  As predicted, my doctor tells us to head to the hospital.

  “Did you wipe up the puddle?”

  “Holly, would you shut up about the puddle!” She demands, poking about in my phone. “Where is Dean’s number?”

  “Oh, yeah, his number is actually under ‘Stupid Oaf’.” My hands are rubbing circles on my belly, my way of calming my baby and myself down at the same time. I wouldn’t want either one of us to get too stressed out right now.

  “Seriously?”

  “What, I forgot to change it.”

  “You might wanna get on that now,” she advises. I shrug.

  “Hi, Dean, this is Maya…no, we’re okay, she’s okay…look, are you driving? Okay, I’m gonna suggest you pull over for just a minute, if you can…oh, okay, well, are you at least using hands free right now because-oh, alright.”

  I can only hear Maya’s side of the conversation, but I can just imagine what’s going on the other end.

  “So, Holly’s in labor…yes, well, her water just broke and we’ve called her doctor and are going to head to the hospital just as soon as-mmhmm…right…”

  “Oh, don’t tell him I piddled on the floor,” I whisper to her from the couch. She shoots me a nasty glare in return.

  “She’s fine, do you want to talk to her? Okay, here she is.”

  The phone is thrust at me just as another contraction starts.

  “Hiiiiiii,” I say, super casual, I know.

  “Mama, I’ll be there in thirty minutes, twenty if these fucking assholes would just move out of my fucking way!”

  “Ooookaaaay.”

  Ohhh, yeah, this is so real.

  “Holls, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for cursing and yelling in your ear, I’m just, I’m hurrying, okay?”

  “It’s okay, I’m okay,” the contraction is waning, “Man, that really hurts.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Dean, just please promise me you’ll be careful, don’t drive crazy because I kind of need you in one piece, okay?”

  “I’ll be careful,” he says in that tone of voice he has that brooks no argument, therefore I believe him.

  “Can we just maybe stay on the phone while I go to the hospital?” I ask.

  “Of course. Talk to me, tell me what you’re doing.”

  “Well, Maya’s currently putting pants on me, we won’t talk about what happened in the hallway, it’s all cleaned up now, anyway,” I begin my rambling.

  When his deep chuckle hits my ear, the tears spring up.

  “No crying, honey, you’ll just worry him, you’re good,” Maya tells me in her soothing voice.

  “Now we’re walking to the door and I’m so glad Maya’s here,” I say to Dean, but look at Maya and hope that she gets it.

  “I love you too, sweetheart,” she says, hauling me out to her car.

  I blather on into Dean’s ear all the way to the hospital, even while I have another contraction, after which I hear him mutter ‘six’, and I’m assuming he’s keeping time of my contractions and I love him so much right now, I look at Maya because I want to cry and she shoots me another dirty look and, yup, that quells the urge.

  “We’re here,” I tell him as Maya pulls up into the emergency driveway.

  “Okay, Mama, listen, I’m close, okay? By the time you get into your room, I should be there.”

  “Looking forward to it. Again, be careful.”

  “You got it. Can I talk to Maya again real quick?”

  I hand over the phone and make a move to get out of the car, but Maya’s pitbull-grip on my leg stops me. Ow, I mouth.

  “Of course, Dean, don’t you worry.”

  “Hold your phone and your horses, stupid, I’m coming around to help you.”

  I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to call women in labor stupid and give them dirty looks, but I guess that’s just Maya’s particular brand of loving.

  Miracle of miracles, she gets me out of her car and into the ER; from there, I’m wheeled to labor and delivery, and then I stop paying attention because I’m in the middle of a contraction, but Dean is right. By the time I get to my room, he’s there, looking frantic and so handsome in his uniform.

  “Hi,” I say, so glad he’s there, so unprepared for the extreme wave of emotion that comes over me at seeing his face.

  “Hi,” he replies, skirting around a nurse who is hooking me up to a machine.

  “You look so handsome,” I say, tugging at his button-down uniform shirt because I want him closer.

  “Thanks,” he says on a laugh, and the nurse smiles. “You look pretty great, yourself, Mama.”

  “No, I don’t, I didn’t even shower.” I am physically incapable of keeping my hands off of him, they are everywhere, at his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his hips. It’s when I reach around for his backside that he finally stops me.”

  “Holly, Jesus,” he grips my hands firmly in his.

  “Labor affects all women differently,” the nurse says with a grin on her way out. “I’ll be right back, stay in bed.”

  “You should stay in bed with me,” I whisper once she’s gone.

  “What on earth has gotten into you?”

  I giggle at the naughty thought that pops into my head.

  “Did they give you some kind of drug already?” I’m pretty sure he read my mind.

  “No. I think this is maybe how I act when I’m utterly terrified.”

  “You’re terrified?” He asks, his expression one of utmost concern.

  “Well, of course I am, aren’t you?”

  “No.” His answer is immediate. “I mean I wasn’t before.”
/>   “Oh. And how is it that you’re not?”

  “Because,” he pulls over a chair from the corner of the room so that he can sit and lean into me on the bed, “after all that you and I have been through separately, doing this together should be a piece of cake.”

  Annnd, I’m crying.

  “Holly, don’t cry.”

  “Well stop being sweet and I’ll stop crying!”

  “Okay, I’ll stop being sweet,” he says, but when I slide my hands down to look at him, he’s got this big goofy grin aimed my way.

  I’m actually a little grateful for the contraction that takes over.

  Ten hours later, Lennon O’Brian Slade is born.

  Obviously, she’s perfect in every way.

  Dark fuzz on her head, deep blue eyes, ten fingers, ten toes.

  She wails and hollers until she’s placed in her daddy’s arms, where she quiets down like she knows she’s safe. Just like her mom, already.

  I’ll spare you the details of labor and birth, except to tell you that Dean makes a pretty amazing labor coach. Clearly, I did all the heavy lifting and am therefore the star of the show, but as far as supporting casts go, he’s aces.

  And if I were to tell you how his eyes filled to the brim with tears and wonder when little Lennon first appeared in this world, your heart would probably go all squishy like mine did. And when they first placed her on my chest, all gooey and amazing, the terror I felt when my labor first started, disappeared. Oh, sure, it’ll make reappearances over the years, I’m sure, but Dean’s right-we got this.

  His family’s all there when she’s born (save for Ben, who finally took Liam and Amelia home late last night) even though it’s four a.m. when she arrives. There are hugs and tears and, you know, I feel pretty lucky for getting knocked up by this guy. I could have done so much worse.

  I’m sent home the next day, so excited to meet back up with my couch instead of that hospital bed. Everyone’s there to welcome us home, but they don’t stay long and I’m relieved. I’m so ready for it to just be the three of us. Dean hasn’t even been home since Sunday when he left for his week of work, since he slept in a chair in my room last night, absolutely refusing to leave the hospital.

  I’d forgotten all about having his stuff moved over, so when he comes back into the house after taking the trash out, he’s got a bewildered look on his face.

  “Hey, Holls, is that my motorcycle in the garage or is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  I’m resting on the couch with little Lennon asleep in my arms. Just try to get me to put her down, I dare you.

  “Oh, I forgot. Surprise!” I whisper-shout. “I hope it’s okay, but I had your family bring over all your stuff. And now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds super presumptuous of me.”

  He’s just standing there and I feel the blush coming, this time it starts at my ears.

  “You moved my stuff in?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “You want me to live here?”

  I glance around to make sure he’s talking to me. Because, duh.

  “Of course I want you to live here.”

  “Holly, when are you going to realize that you give nothing away. You may think I can read your mind, but, alas, I cannot. If you want something, you have to tell me, and then I will do everything in my power to give it to you.”

  Awww. I send my softest smile his way.

  “Can you read my mind now?”

  “Yeah, you’re thinking about how hot I am again.”

  “Also, that I really like you.”

  “Just like?”

  “Maybe more.”

  He saunters over from the spot where he was standing between the kitchen and living room.

  “It’s more.”

  He leans over, so sure of himself, hands to the back of the couch, enveloping me in him.

  I glance up and catch his eyes, patting Lennon’s back gently.

  I know I have circles under my eyes and haven’t had a real shower in two days, but I’ve never felt more powerful as a woman. I just gave a human life, for goodness sake.

  “Do you want to live here?” I ask him.

  “Well, since this is where my heart lives, I may as well move my surfboards here, too.”

  I close my eyes and press my face to Lennon’s head. I don’t know if I can handle a lifetime of words like that.

  “Give me a kiss, Mama,” he orders.

  I comply.

  Chapter 44

  Holly

  Six weeks have never gone by so quickly. Dean got to spend one whole week with Lennon and me before he had to return to work. After that, I was on my own Sunday night through Thursday. He’d tried to come home during the week a few times, but the late night and early morning commute was killing him, so we’d settled for nightly video chats. Video chats that consisted mostly of me sitting in front of the computer screen, Lennon in my arms, usually nursing because she had the appetite of a teenage boy. It was a good thing Dean had gotten so used to seeing me looking a mess, because that definitely didn’t change. I was usually able to sneak in a shower when one of the Slade family members stopped by to check on me (there wasn’t a schedule, per se, that I knew of, but someone still stopped by daily to check in on us). I still had my Tuesday taco nights with Red, though Babe had started joining us so she could hold the baby while Red and I ate.

  On Thursday nights, Dean would come home and hold Lennon for practically three straight days. I’ll admit, there was a small, selfish part of me that felt like I’d only just earned his love in time for it to be transferred to someone else, but then I remembered that someone else was our perfect little baby, and suddenly I was okay with sharing his affections.

  Ah, affections.

  See, today was my six week check-up with Dr. Graysen. Today, I’d get the (hopefully) green light to resume bonus affections with Dean. The kind we hadn’t had in a long time. The kind that he worked me up to desperation for several times since Lennon was born, but always had to refuse me because, well, I’d just had a baby and there were certain parts of me that just needed a break, you know? But now, I was ready for that break to be over. I was ready to resume all functions.

  Because, in the last six weeks, my relationship with Dean had become easily the best thing in my life (I mean, obviously, my baby was the bestest best thing in my life). It was, like, one day we barely liked each other and then the next, we were in love and just together. I wasn’t sure if the ease with which things progressed between us (you know, if you didn’t count the whole unplanned pregnancy, long distance, job switch, bed rest issues) was normal, but it sure felt right.

  So, no biggie, I just had a totally awesome family and was just in a relationship with a super-hot guy now.

  “You ready?” Dean asks when we arrive, already lifting Lennon’s baby seat from the back of his Jeep.

  “Ready,” I reply, hopping down from the car. Another thing I can do easily now, hop out of cars, as well as hop into cars, walk, jog (though why would I want to do that), tie my shoes, button my pants, bend over and pick up things, and scoop Mr. Bubberchop’s litterbox again. Yup, life is good.

  We’re not in the waiting room long before Dr. Graysen’s nurse calls us back into a little room. I’d recently nursed Lennon, so she should stay asleep through the appointment. When we first brought her home, she (nor I, nor Dean) knew which end was up; she’d sleep all day, be awake all night, it was crazy. We’re now, finally, on a good sleep schedule (if you count three hours at a time good), having taken a page out of Dean’s Life Handbook: make a schedule, build a routine, thrive. Granted, right now, Lennon’s routine consisted mostly of sleep, eat, and poop.

  “Aw, look at you guys, you look great!” Dr. Graysen comes into the room, fawns over us, coos at little Lennon, then gets down to business. I shoo Dean out of the room for the whole exam part (I mean, really, let’s keep some mystery, mmkay?), then get down to the nitty-gritty.

  “I guess my only question is, um, y
ou know,” and here comes the blush, “isitokaytohavesex?” I rush out the last part because I’m just that awkward.

  “Yes, Holly, you are cleared for landing,” she says with a smile.

  I mean, is that even a normal thing for a doctor to say? I didn’t think so.

  “Okay, great, perfect, thanks.” I go to hop down off the table, but oh, no, she’s not done. She starts in on birth control options and tips on how to make sex more comfortable post-pregnancy.

  “Should I call Dean back in here for this?” She asks, already reaching for the doorknob.

  “No!” I react quickly, perhaps poorly. “I mean, no, I got it, I’m good, thanks.”

  That’s all I need, is for Dean to come in and start taking notes on sexual positions and lubrication. Gah! Just the thought has a blush creeping into my cheeks.

  “Okay, well, I can’t say it enough, birth control, birth control, birth control; unless you’re ready to do pregnancy all over again.”

  “God, no. Give it all to me, all the birth control, all at the same time.”

  “Well, I can’t do that, obviously,” she starts, and then goes on about my options.

  That burning I was feeling in my loins earlier? Yeah, it’s gone. By the time I go to meet Dean and Lennon in the waiting room, I feel like I may never want to have sex again. Poor Dean. No, poor Holly. I was so looking forward to it, too.

  “Hey, Mama, all good?”

  “Good, yup. Sooo good.”

  I focus on Lennon’s sleeping face so I don’t have to see the question in Dean’s eyes. He was looking forward to affections, as well.

  After he gets Lennon’s car seat snapped back in, he joins me in the front, turning his body to face me, his arm resting across the steering wheel.

  “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Holly.”

  “Ugh. Fine.” I tip my head back onto the headrest and look at the roof of the Jeep. “I don’t think we can ever have sex again.”

  “I’m sorry?” He asks, after a moment of silence. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m perhaps being a bit dramatic.” I swivel my head to look at him. Sigh. He’s just so handsome. “She said I’m good to go, we’re good to go, but, you know, it’s probably going to be uncomfortable and we have to be super careful about birth control and, blah, blah, blah, no fun.”