by B C Yancey
Elyria giggled.
Daphne barked a laugh, "And I'll never tell."
"Mama," Anne cried, "William won't stop touching me."
Simon and Daphne sighed in unison.
Elyria bit back a grin and settled more comfortably in her chair. "We have leftovers warming on the stove from supper tonight—meatloaf, potatoes with brown gravy, and green beans."
"D'you hear that, Annie girl?" Simon said with strained cheerfulness. "You love meatloaf."
"I hate meatloaf," Anne said with a sharp stomp of her foot.
"Since when?" Simon asked, defeated.
Daphne grumbled under her breath, then stood. "Pollyanna Morton…if I hear one more complaint out of your mouth tonight, you will go straight to bed, and that is the end of it."
Anne hmphed and pouted.
Daphne sighed. "Go sit at the table. We're going to eat; then all of us are going to bed for some much-needed sleep."
Elyria bit back a grin and resumed her knitting, enjoying the moment and all its familiarity. If she didn't know better, she could almost believe they were back in their row house in DC.
Until they finished eating, the soft clatter of utensils against porcelain dishes mixed with the low conversation between the adults.
Dishes were cleared and washed before Daphne and Simon ushered their children off to bed with the promise of better attitudes in the morning.
A few moments after the guest bedroom door closed, Elyria gasped softly and clamped her eyes shut against another series of sharp little kicks. When the pain passed, she let out a slow breath and rubbed her belly. "I think I'm ready to lie down too," she murmured, struggling to stand.
"How are you feeling?" Everett asked quietly, helping her to her feet. "You look a little paler than usual."
"I'm fine," Elyria whispered with a nod. She gave his hands at her waist a reassuring pat, "Just tired of being a punching bag."
He kissed her, then walked beside her toward their room with an arm around her waist. "Don't worry; in no time at all, we'll be reminding our children of their love of meatloaf and doing our best to remain calm in the face of their tantrums."
Elyria scoffed. "When you put it that way, my current situation doesn't sound too bad."
Forty-Nine
As March drew to a close with a deluge of spring rain showers, and Elyria's prospective due date loomed only a month away, Everett found it increasingly difficult to ignore the building sense of foreboding.
Their lives were weeks away from being forever changed; and while excitement hung in the air like an actor waiting in the wings for their cue, he couldn't shake the fear that when the time came for the babies to be born, something would go terribly, horribly wrong.
How could it not when considering what his life had been like up until meeting Pegleg?
The feelings of disquiet only intensified after each visit from Doc Gilbert; especially when he increased his visits up to once a week.
And while he offered words of assurance that everything seemed to be progressing the best it could, he couldn't escape the looming threat that the lives of his wife and children hung in the balance.
Each day Everett's silent torment grew, but he found himself unable to voice his fears for one simple reason. What if by speaking them aloud, it somehow willed them into existence?
So, he put on a brave face and kept his worries to himself, hoping, in the end, he would be proved wrong.
"Is your leg bothering you again tonight?" Elyria asked with a yawn, lying propped up in bed on her side by a mound of pillows; exactly where Doc insisted until the twins were born. "Any idea when we'll have the car back?"
"Not yet," Everett said with a wince as he sat to remove his shoes and socks. "But if Finn Davidson can't figure out what's wrong with the car soon, I'll tell him to send it to the scrap heap and just buy another one."
Standing, he tossed his socks to the dirty clothes hamper across the room and unbuttoned his pants. "I probably should, regardless. We need one that's more reliable, with a little more room for our growing family."
After hanging his pants in the closet, he turned to his wife and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hands stilled while he watched her rub her distended belly for a few minutes.
She looked exhausted and ready to burst, but there was no denying she remained the most beautiful woman he'd ever met.
His heart gave a funny little kick in his chest, and he couldn't stop himself from saying, "I love you."
She bit back a grimace and smiled. "I love you too." Her hand pressed low against the left side of her belly and her brow creased with a frown. "Looks like I might be in for another rough night."
He hung his shirt and walked to the bed in nothing but his cut-off union suit. "Anything I can do?"
She shook her head.
After crawling onto the bed, Everett laid down, settling a gentle hand atop hers on her belly. "A back massage, perhaps, or a few more well-placed pillows?"
"I appreciate the offer," She chuckled, "but I'm afraid there's only one thing that'll help at this point, and Doc said he thinks it's still at least four weeks away…though he doubts I'll make it that long."
"Why?"
"He's yet to see a birth involving twins make it the full nine months."
Everett's brow lowered in a worried frown, "He said that?"
She reached out and cradled his face, "You're worried."
Grabbing her hand, he turned and pressed a kiss to her palm. He fell silent, unable to gather the courage necessary to speak of his fears.
Clearing his throat, he decided to change the topic and asked softly, "Have you decided on any names yet?"
Elyria took his hand and moved it lower, holding her breath and then grinning when one of the babies kicked against it. "A few, but I can't decide between them."
"Boy or girl names?"
She sighed and adjusted her position, "Boys. Daphne said she thinks I'm carrying as though they are, according to how she carried both William and Orie."
Everett smiled. "Go on, let's hear 'em."
Elyria chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then said softly, "I've always liked Norman and Preston."
"How about after your brother…or Marcus?"
She turned to him. "I'd like that. Stephen Monterose has a nice ring to it."
He rose up on his elbow and pressed a kiss to her lips. "And what if they're girls?"
"After our mother's?"
Everett grimaced. "Mine was never fond of her name. I'm not sure she'd approve of us passing Clarabella on to our daughter."
"Did she have a middle name? I don't remember," Elyria murmured, pressing a hand to her belly.
"Ernestine," He said with a nod. After covering a yawn, he grinned. "I'm not sure our daughter would appreciate that as our choice."
Elyria chuckled and shook her head. "My mothers was Sophronia; is that any better?"
“Slightly better,” he sighed with a chuckle, "Rosie? Rosie Monterose?"
She laughed, "Or how about Monty Monterose?"
"Clearly we still have some thinking to do," he snickered. "At this rate, they'll be lucky to have a name by the time they reach their first birthday."
Elyria sighed and closed her eyes. "Can I tell you something, without making you worry?"
His stomach dropped to his toes—an odd sensation considering he was laying on the bed. Forcing down a swallow, he slowly nodded and braced himself. "Sure."
She took his hand and held tight. "The past few days, I've had a recurring dream."
He frowned, "What about?"
She let out a heavy sigh. Turning to face him, she opened her eyes and whispered, "That I die during childbirth."
Every muscle in Everett's body tensed; without thinking, he reached for her and pulled her as close as he could. Squeezing his eyes shut, he said the first thing that came to his mind and sent a fervent prayer the words were true. "It's only a dream."
"That's what Daphne said," she murmured, pulling s
lightly away. "You're trembling."
Heart thundering in his chest, he fought the nearly overwhelming urge to burst into tears and pressed a fervent kiss to her brow. "I must be cold; are you cold?"
She gave a hesitant nod but remained silent while he sat up and pulled the covers over both of them. Once he settled back down beside her, she nestled against his chest as close as her belly would allow. "I love you a lot, you know."
Tears stung Everett's eyes and made it difficult to speak around the lump of emotion clogging his throat, but somehow, he managed to croak out, "I love you too."
Silently, he sent up a plea that her dream would not be an omen of events to come, and fell into a fitful sleep with her in his arms.
Fifty
"How long have you been having these pains?" Doc Gilbert asked while examining Elyria the following week.
"Three days ago, but they were sporadic and eventually stopped." Elyria licked her dry lips and clenched her eyes shut when another cramp hit her. Once it passed, she let out a sigh. "They started again early this morning, and I thought they might go away, but have since become much stronger and more frequent."
"About every ten to fifteen minutes between each one," Daphne added from the opposite side of the bed. "I started keeping track after the third consecutive one when I arrived earlier."
Doc hmmm'd for a moment and finished up his exam, then adjusted the blanket over Elyria's lap once more. "It's just as I suspected. You, my dear Mrs. Monterose, are in labor."
"But it's too soon," Elyria gasped, "isn't it?"
"A few weeks early, yes," he murmured; concern evident in his voice. Giving her hand a reassuring pat, he continued, "But we're prepared for this, as much as we can be at least. I do suggest trying to rest while you're able. You'll need your strength for when the work truly begins."
He closed up his medical bag and walked around the bed, "Today must be the day for babies. Mrs. Halpine has also gone into labor this morning—her first as well." At the door, he came to a stop, "I count both of us fortunate to have someone as experienced as Mrs. Morton here to assist you until I return, but don't hesitate to send someone for me if things progress faster than expected."
Daphne showed him out, then returned to the room, "Would you like me to send word to Everett?"
Elyria shook her head, "There's nothing he can do at this point; he'll only worry."
Daphne clucked her tongue. "You may be correct about that, but I reserve the right to use my own judgment and notify him when I deem prudent."
"Fine," Elyria said with a roll of her eyes and ignored the pang of guilt that formed in her gut. She wanted Everett, but the thought of him being here and seeing her this way sent a wave of panic through her. Another pain hit, and she wrapped her arms around her belly with a groan.
When it passed, she slowly relaxed with a sigh and tried to roll to her opposite side. "I want to walk around a bit, is that allowed?"
"I don't see why not," Daphne murmured, helping Elyria to sit on the edge of the bed. "Go easy, though, just in case."
Dizziness assailed her the first couple of minutes on her feet, but once the room stopped spinning and she started walking, she sighed in relief, then chuckled when a thought struck her.
"What are you giggling about?" Daphne asked, "I don't remember finding anything about labor humorous, quite the opposite actually."
Elyria smiled and rubbed the ache settling low in her back, "How surprised do you think Everett would be if I showed up there with lunch and told him I'm in labor?"
Daphne scoffed. "I admit, it would be devilish fun if you managed to make it there, but you'd give the poor man a heart attack and then he'd ban me from your side for the rest of our lives."
"What time is it?" Elyria asked, making her way around the bed when another pain gripped her.
"About quarter to two," Daphne murmured, bracing her until the contraction eased. "Why do you ask?"
Elyria shook her head, ignoring the question, and winced, "How long were you in labor?"
They walked out into the main room and continued to the front door before wending their way around the perimeter.
When they reached the kitchen, Daphne finally said, "There's no easy way to say this, and I know you were present for both Anne and Williams, but it's one thing to be there and quite another to be the one in labor."
"Yes," Elyria panted, gritting her teeth against another pain, this one stronger than the last. "I've come to realize that much rather quickly."
Daphne patted her hand, "Anne was my worst, if you'll recall, at nearly twenty-four hours. William's was much easier at around seventeen, and dear Orie's fell in between the two."
Elyria groaned.
"You'll be doing quite a bit of that over the next several hours. And cursing," Daphne said with a laugh. "Simon told me with each one that my vocabulary never ceased to amaze him; I even managed to teach him a new word or two."
"I think I'd like to lie down now," Elyria said upon nearing her room on their walk.
"Will the couch do while I get the bed ready? It won't take but a moment and I think it will help you rest a little easier knowing everything's in order."
Elyria nodded and ground her teeth against another contraction before following Daphne to the couch and sitting. But after only a few uncomfortable minutes, she soon found herself back on her feet, filled with restless energy. "Can I do anything to help?"
"Almost ready," Daphne called out, "How are you doing out there?"
Elyria opened her mouth to speak, but a sharp gasp escaped her instead. Bracing herself against the nearest wall, she hung her head and clenched her jaw, whimpering against the wave of pain until it eased and left her breathless. "They're getting worse."
"And closer together," Daphne murmured walking to her. "Are you sure you don't want me to get Everett? He'll want to be here, and his presence might even offer some comfort."
Tears stung Elyria's eyes. She shook her head and choked back a sob.
Daphne was at her side in an instant, wrapping her in her arms. "Another pain? I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but I promise it will all be worth it in the end."
"No," Elyria cried, unable to hold back her emotions. "That isn't why…"
"What's wrong?"
Elyria hid her face against Daphne's neck and wept brokenly. "I'm afraid…and Everett's worried-" Her next contraction stole her breath and had her doubled over in pain until it lessened. "He won't admit it…but I know he is."
Wiping the tears from Elyria's face, Daphne sniffled and tucked a lock of hair behind Elyria's right ear. "Of course he's worried. You both have every right to be. Childbirth is a deadly business; I know from firsthand experience."
"That doesn't help," Elyria cried. "I need you to tell me everything's going to be all right and that I'm worrying for nothing."
Daphne hugged her, "I've never lied to you, and I'll be damned if I start now." She sniffled and hung onto her when another contraction hit. "But I will say this," she fiercely whispered when Elyria relaxed. Daphne pulled back and gripped her by her upper arms, "Allow him to be here with you, draw strength from one another, and no matter the outcome, you won't regret it."
Fifty-One
The door to Everett's classroom swung open and banged against the wall, drawing his attention from where he stood at the front writing on the chalkboard.
He turned and smiled upon seeing Sally standing in the doorway.
"It's time," she said with a short nod, her hands clenched into fists at her side, a look of worry and excitement on her face.
Glancing at the clock, he shook his head, "It's only-" The smile slipped from his lips as her words sank in. His heart hammered, and his stomach clenched. "Now? She's having the babies?"
She nodded.
He forced a swallow down a suddenly too-tight throat. Dropping the chalk, he blindly retrieved his coat from the chair at his desk. "Class is dismissed."
The students loudly collected their belonging
s, leaving the schoolhouse in a rush as Everett made his way to Sally's car and climbed inside.
His mind was in a panicked fog the entire drive over to his home. How was it possible he'd faced a year of war without flinching and yet he quaked in fear at the thought of witnessing his wife go through childbirth?
Leaping from the car before Sally came to a complete stop in his driveway, he lumbered up the stairs. Sweat broke out on his brow, his hands trembled, and his stomach threatened to expel its contents.
But the instant he limped through the front door, everything clicked into place, and his mind became crystal clear. Elyria's loud wail of pain probably had something to do with it.
He walked to their bedroom like a man on a mission with the paralyzing fear of moments ago pushed aside.
Daphne looked up from where she crouched on the side of the bed, holding Elyria's hand and smiled. "Oh good, you're here. He's here, El."
"Everett?" She whimpered.
He removed his coat and flung it over the back of his desk chair, then crawled onto the bed and settled down beside her.
Taking her face in his hands, he wiped the hair from her sweaty brow and smiled, "Hi, Pegleg."
She smiled back, but it wobbled as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so glad you're here."
He kissed her. "Want to hear a joke?"
Chuckling through clenched teeth, she took his right hand in hers and held it tight, groaning against a sudden pain. After it passed, she laid her head on his shoulder, "Only if it's a silly one."
Everett winced against the pain in his right hand, positive that when this was all over, every last bone would be broken. "It's me you're talking to, I only do silly," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow. "Which side of a duck has the most feathers?"
"I don't know, which side?" She whispered with a grimace.
"The outside."
Her laugh quickly turned into a moan. She curled in on herself, squeezing his hand tighter than before until the contraction eased. "I don't know how much more of this I can bear."
"What can I do? How can I help?" He whispered with a kiss.
Elyria shook her head and closed her eyes, her lips trembled when she said brokenly, "Just be here with me."