River Wild

by Towle, Samantha

  “Why? It’s not exactly going anywhere.” And neither are we. Panic starts to circle in my chest. “What are we going to do?” My voice has dropped to a whisper.

  River looks around. The road is deserted. No cars have passed since we broke down.

  “Someone will come soon.”

  “And what are we going to do, hitch a ride?”

  “You’re being bitchy again, Red.”

  “Didn’t we already have this discussion? Lady in labor means a pass to be bitchy.”

  A grin spreads across his face. “You just said bitch.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Did.”

  “Did—argh! Christ on a fudging bike!” I clutch my tightening stomach, panting out breaths.

  “Jesus, Carrie. We need to get you back in the car.”

  I let him gently maneuver me onto the backseat. He leaves the door open.

  “I’m gonna call an ambulance,” he tells me.

  “Good. And tell them to hurry because I think Olive’s getting impatient, and I really don’t want to give birth on the side of the road!”

  I hear River talking to emergency services, and then he’s back, crouching at the side of the car.

  “How’re you doing?”

  I give him a look. “My car is broken. It’s hot as Lucifer, and I have no air-conditioning. Oh yeah, I’m in labor! How do you think I’m freaking doing?”

  “Fuck, I love it when you’re angry, Red. It’s so hot.”

  “Fudge off.” I scowl at him, not in the mood for his teasing.

  Another contraction hits.

  “Sweet fudging Jesus! It hurts!” Tears prick my eyes.

  I grab hold of River’s forearm, which is the closest thing available to me, and squeeze hard. He covers my hand with his, holding me, and rubs my leg.

  “Breathe deep, Carrie,” he encourages softly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

  “I-I think Olive’s coming, River. I keep feeling like I need to push.”

  “What?” he gasps.

  It would be comical right now, the look on his face, if my baby wasn’t trying to currently climb out of my body, like the alien does in the film Alien.

  “No, she can’t come now! The ambulance isn’t here!”

  “Well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of say in the matter!”

  “Can’t you just hold her in?”

  I stare at him blankly. “Are you fudging serious right now? Hold her in?”

  “Yeah, like when you need a shit and there’s no bathroom around.”

  “Olive is not a piece of poop!” I yell. “And, no, I can’t freaking hold her in—FUDGE!” I scream at the top of my lungs at the hit of another contraction. “Jesus Lord! She’s coming!”

  “Holy fuck!” He pulls at his hair. “Shit, what do I do?”

  “I don’t know! I’m not a doctor!”

  “News flash: neither am I!”

  “Stop yelling at me!” I shout.

  “Christ. The baby’s really coming now?”

  I stare at him, panting, sweat-soaked hair sticking to my face. “Yes, River, the baby is really coming.”

  “Okay. I’m calling 911 again. See if this ambulance is any closer to getting here.”

  He’s just got his cell out when I hear the wail of a siren.

  “The ambulance is here,” River states the obvious, looking as relieved as a man who just got a last-minute pardon before going to the electric chair.

  The ambulance pulls up behind my car.

  “Hey, what have we got here today?”

  “A baby.” River jabs a finger in my direction, sounding flustered. “Red’s in labor. Her water broke. And she’s two weeks early. We were on our way to the hospital when her shitty car broke down.”

  “Okay.” A lady crouches down next to me, putting a medical bag down beside herself. “Hey, honey. My name is Hope. I’m a paramedic, and I’m here to help you.”

  “I’m Carrie,” I tell her through a pant.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Carrie. So, you’re in labor. Thirty-eight weeks—is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Contractions are how far apart?”

  “It’s hard, keeping track. They’re coming real fast though. And I feel like I need to push.”

  “Okay. And your water broke?”

  Biting my lip, I nod.

  “When did that happen?”

  “About thirty minutes ago.”

  “Okay. Would you mind if I just have a feel of your stomach?”

  “Go ahead.”

  I sit while she presses and pushes at my stomach. I wince when it hurts.

  “I’m sorry,” she says in a soothing voice. “It hurts, huh?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I’ve got two of my own. Boys. So, I know where you’re at right now. Okay, Carrie, do you think you can move for me? I need to get you in the ambulance.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I can’t. I feel like, if I stand up, the baby’s just gonna come out.”

  “Okay. So, that means, I’m going to have to examine you here. I need to see how dilated you are.”

  “Examine her here?” River pipes up. “Can’t you just take her to the hospital?”

  She shakes her head. “If I’m right—and I usually am—there is no time to get to the hospital. This baby is ready to come out now.”

  “The fuck?” River gasps.

  I’m at the point where I don’t even care anymore. I just want the pain to stop, and I’ll do anything to make that happen.

  “Right, Carrie, I need to move you back a bit, so we can get you lying down on the seat.”

  “Okay.”

  “Dad, I need you to go around to the other side of the car and go behind Carrie. With your arms under her armpits, help guide her back as seamlessly as possible.”

  Dad. She thinks River is Olive’s dad.

  I meet River’s eyes in this moment. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I wait for him to correct her. But he doesn’t.

  And neither do I.

  River comes to the other side of the car and opens the door behind me. He helps me move into a flat position. But he doesn’t move away. He stays there, kneeling on the floor beside the car. His head by mine. His hand stroking the hair off my face.

  “Carrie, you’re wearing a skirt, which makes my job easier. But I’m going to need to remove your panties, so I can see what’s going on down there. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” I tell her.

  I’m lying on the backseat of my car on the side of the road. My skirt is up and over my bent knees. My panties are gone. And a stranger-to-me woman is currently examining my vagina.

  Dignity, meet trash can.

  “Okay.” Hope lifts her head from down below and looks at me. “Looks like we’re delivering your baby here.”

  “What?” River and I say at the same time.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. I had a strong feeling this was going to be the case.

  The need to push my baby out is getting stronger.

  “You’re fully dilated, and the baby is ready to come.”

  Sweet Lord in heaven.

  I’m giving birth in the back of my car.

  So not how I envisaged this moment happening.

  “I just need to grab some things from the back of the ambulance. I’ll be back in two ticks.”

  I blow out a breath. Tears trickle from the corners of my eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I say to River.

  “It’s not ideal,” he says, still brushing my hair back from my face. “But it does mean that we’re going to get to meet Olive sooner rather than later. And that’s good, right?”

  I lift my eyes to him. Looking at his face upside down. He’s even handsome from this angle.

  “Yeah, it’s good.”

  “Right, I’m back.” Hope reappears at my feet. “Let’s get to delivering this baby.” She claps her latex-covered hands together.
<
br />   She’s feeling a lot more enthusiastic about this than I am. But then she’s not the one pushing out a baby right now.

  “Dad, can you sit in behind Mom and offer her some support? It’ll help when it’s time to push.”

  “Sure.”

  Hope helps me sit forward while River climbs in the car behind me. He shuts the door and leans his back against it. I lean my back against his solid chest.

  Hope knew what she was talking about when she said it would help. Because being close to him right now is helping already.

  “Do we know what we’re having?” Hope asks me.

  “A baby,” River says next to my ear, and I honestly don’t know if he’s being serious or not.

  “She meant the sex of the baby.” I roll my eyes at him. “And, no, I didn’t find out the sex,” I tell Hope.

  “A surprise. I love surprises.” She beams.

  “I do, too, but not the kind of surprises when they think squeezing your uterus like a grapefruit in a vise is fun!” I grit the words out as another wave of pain hits.

  “Another contraction?” Hope asks.

  “Y-e-s,” I pant out.

  Holy God, I think I’m dying. It hurts like no pain I’ve ever felt before.

  “Do you still feel like you need to push?” Hope asks me.

  I nod.

  “Okay, well, you just listen to what your body’s telling you to do, Carrie. Give me a nice big push.”

  I clench my jaw and push as hard as I can. My feet slip against the seat. “I can’t!” I pant. “I feel like I’m just moving down the seat!”

  “You can do it,” Hope tells me. “Put your feet here.” She places each foot up against the inside of my car. “When you push now, you won’t move anywhere.”

  “You’ve got this, Carrie,” River says in my ear.

  He puts his hands up, and I grab hold of them.

  “Okay, Carrie, give me another big push!” Hope says.

  I push with all my might. “ARRGGH!” I yell, breaking off. “It’s not working!” I cry.

  “You’re doing great, Carrie. Just keep going.”

  “But it hurts!” I whimper.

  “I know. But you got this. You’re a strong, badass woman. You can do this. I bet you could birth this baby in your sleep.”

  “In my sleep?” I pant out a laugh.

  “For sure.” She grins up at me. “You’re a woman. We can do anything we set our minds to. Now, let’s do this, yeah? Bring this baby of yours into the world, and then we can all go and have a nice cup of coffee.”

  “Tea, and it’s a deal.”

  “You’re on.” She smiles up at me. “Now, come on, Carrie. I need you to give me one big, long push.”

  Gritting my teeth, hands squeezing a tight hold on River’s, I push with all I have. But it feels to be in vain. “I can’t do it! It hurts too much. I can’t take it.” I’m turning my head from side to side. I feel like I’m being ripped in two.

  “You can,” Hope encourages.

  “No, I’m tired. I’ve had enough! I want to go home!”

  “And we will, Carrie. I promise we’ll go home as soon as this is over. You just need to push real hard.”

  “I did! It’s not working!” I cry.

  My face is wet with tears. I’m drenched in sweat. And I’m in the worst pain of my entire life.

  River cups my chin, turning my eyes to his. “You can do this, Red. You’ve endured way worse than this and walked out the other side.”

  “No …” I cry. “I can’t … it hurts too much. I can’t take it.”

  “Is there anything you can give her to ease the pain?” River asks Hope.

  “I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “It’s too late, Carrie. Your baby’s crowning. I can see the top of the head. What I need you to do right now is give me one real big push.”

  Both my feet are wedged up against the inside of the car. Legs akimbo. My dignity went the moment this baby decided to make an early appearance.

  River’s eyes fix back on mine. “You can do this because you have to. Olive needs you to push. She needs your help getting out into the world. So, you need to dig deep and do whatever you need to do to get through this.”

  You can do this, Carrie.

  You can.

  “ARGH!” I scream, giving one big push.

  “That’s it,” Hope says supportively. “Just keep pushing.”

  “That’s it, Carrie. Keep going.”

  “FUCKING HELL!” I scream. Channeling River in this moment, I let every curse word I can possibly think of rip. “HOLY MOTHERFUCKING CUNT OF A FUCKING PAINFUL BASTARD!”

  “Woohoo!” River hoots. “That’s my girl! Keep it going!”

  “JESUS HAROLD CHRIST!”

  “And the shoulders are out!” Hope beams up at me. “Just one more big push, Carrie, and you’re done, all done.”

  “One more,” I pant, exhausted, my body sagging against River’s.

  “You heard the lady. One more push, and we can finally meet Olive.”

  We.

  On that thought, I pull in every bit of strength I have left. Teeth gritted, I push as hard as I can, screaming out through the pain, “FUUUCK!”

  And then I hear the single sweetest sound in the world.

  My baby crying.

  “You’ve got a baby girl!” Hope beams, handing my baby over to me, laying her onto my chest.

  My baby girl.

  I have a daughter.

  A daughter.

  I stare down at the tiny head covered in a mass of pale blonde hair, and a wave of love like nothing I’ve ever felt before washes over me. I shift her tiny body a touch, so I can see her face for the first time. I gaze down at her.

  God, she’s beautiful. Perfect.

  Curious dark blue eyes stare back at me.

  I press a gentle kiss to her soft cheek. “I’m your mama,” I whisper to her.

  “She’s beautiful, Carrie.”

  I glance up at River, who is staring down at her with awe and adoration and wonderment.

  His eyes move to mine. “She looks just like you.”

  I look back to my daughter. “You think?”

  “Definitely.” He presses a sweet kiss to my forehead. “You did amazing, Carrie.”

  Maybe it’s the overwhelming emotion of the moment or maybe just a simple need, but I lift my mouth up and press a soft kiss to his lips.

  I start to move away, but his hand cups my cheek, bringing me back to his mouth.

  He kisses me softly, tenderly. Gently sucking on my lower lip.

  I pull back from the kiss and look into his eyes. He tenderly tucks my hair behind my ear. His eyes on mine.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “For what?”

  “For being here. For being you,” I repeat the words he said to me the night we learned to trust each other.

  “Couple of minutes, guys”—Hope reappears, pulling my attention to her—“and then we’ll be moving mama and baby into the ambulance and taking you both to the hospital.”

  I notice a blanket now covering my lower half. I didn’t even realize that Hope had covered me up. I was too busy loving on my baby and the man sitting behind me.

  “Can I come in the ambulance with them?” River asks. “If that’s okay with you?” he checks with me.

  “I’d like that,” I tell him.

  “So, do we have a name for this little beauty yet?” Hope asks me.

  I stare at her for a long moment and then down at my daughter, a smile falling onto my lips. “I didn’t. But I do now.”

  Carrie

  Hope Olive Ford is the single most perfect human being ever.

  And I’m not just saying that because I’m her mom. It’s the truth.

  She’s amazing.

  She’s been on this earth for two months, and they have been the best months of my whole entire life.

  Tiring. But the best.

  I honestly don’t remember life before her.

&nb
sp; That could be because I’m exhausted.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I always thought that, if I could go back in time to the moment when I met Neil, I would run in the opposite direction. But, now … with Hope here, I know that, if given that chance, I would do it all again. Suffer all the pain and humiliation and anguish because it would mean that I got to have her. And she is everything.

  I hate Neil for everything, except for her. She is the one thing that I am thankful to him for.

  Because she is perfect.

  I sometimes have to remind myself that this isn’t all a dream. That I’m not going to wake up back in that house, still with Neil.

  I could never have imagined the life that I have now with Hope. And River.

  River has been amazing since Hope was born. He is completely smitten with her. The way he looks at my daughter … like she’s a precious gift that he will protect at all costs, makes my heart ache in the best kind of way. It’s amazing to watch this big man be reduced to mush by my baby girl.

  He’s at my house pretty much all the time. Only going home to shower and change and when he needs to work for orders that come in for his glass art.

  He’s totally involved. Changing diapers. Helping at bath and bedtime. Rocking her to sleep when she won’t settle for me.

  Feeding me to keep my energy up. Turns out that Hope is a hungry baby. I feel like she’s constantly on the breast.

  But, if my girl needs milk, then milk she’ll get.

  River is even watching her when I’m at work. Yes, I’m back to work. This mama has got to bring home the bacon for her girl.

  River offered to watch her when it came time for me to go back to work two weeks ago, which is where I currently am, standing at the counter, waiting on the breakfast order for my waiting customer.

  I hadn’t even voiced my worries to him about leaving her in daycare with a bunch of strangers.

  It was like he knew my concerns without me even having to say a word.

  He knows me better than anyone.

  Sometimes, I feel like he’s the other half of my soul. The part I was missing but didn’t realize until that day when I looked into his eyes and saw him. The real him.

  It’s almost like we’re a family.

  Except we’re not.

  River and I … we’re together in every sense of the word, except we’re not actually together.

  I’ve never mentioned the kiss we shared after Hope was born, and neither has he. Just like the time before that when we kissed.