by Sarah Morgan
Matilda looked at her, her eyes glazed with pain, unable to speak.
Fliss dropped to her knees in front of her. “What happened? Oh God, what did they do? Say something.”
Matilda shook her head, but no words emerged.
They must have attacked her. Winded her. “Did they push you? The doors were open downstairs. I saw the broken cup. And your phone. Are the intruders still in the house?” Fliss brandished the skillet like a weapon. “Because I’ll tear them limb from limb. They will be so damn sorry they—”
Matilda grabbed her wrist and gasped out one word. “Baby.”
“I know you’re worried about the baby, but I’m sure she’s going to be fine. We’re going to—” She yelped as Matilda gripped her arm more tightly.
“Now!”
Now?
Fliss froze, every muscle in her body paralyzed. Her arms and legs wouldn’t move. Neither would her mouth. With immense difficulty she forced the words past stiff lips. “You mean the baby is the reason you’re on the floor in agony? But it’s not due yet. It can’t come now.”
Matilda gave another moan of pain and Fliss moved, her need not to be left to deal with this galvanizing her into action. She put the skillet down.
“Who do I call? The hospital? Chase?” Someone. Anyone. The phone almost slipped from her shaky, sweaty hands, and she gave a hysterical laugh. At this rate the floor was going to be littered with broken phones.
Matilda tried to speak. “No time.”
No time? Fliss felt hot and then cold. “That can’t be right. Even if it is coming now, babies take ages to arrive.”
Please let it take ages to arrive.
She couldn’t do this.
She really couldn’t do this.
She was the wrong person in every single way.
If this baby really was coming, then Matilda needed someone skilled and responsible with her. Someone who would do all the right things.
Fliss knew she wasn’t that someone.
She did all the wrong things.
She felt a shocking pain in her arm and realized it was Matilda’s nails.
Holy crap.
She’d never doubted that childbirth was a painful experience, but she hadn’t realized the pain extended to bystanders.
“That’s right.” She gritted her teeth. “Hold on. Hit me. Anything. Whatever helps.” With her free arm she reached out, grabbed her phone and dialed 911. Maybe having a baby wasn’t an emergency, but it seemed like one to her. And no doubt they’d call whoever they needed to call. The best she could hope for was that reinforcements would arrive before the baby.
“They’ll be here in under ten minutes.” Relief flowed through her. Ten minutes was no time at all. She wasn’t going to have to do this by herself. All she had to do was hold the fort and keep Matilda calm until help arrived.
That was easier said than done. Whatever was happening to her was clearly overwhelming. Matilda was hit by wave after wave of pain, with no room to breathe. Tentatively Fliss placed her palm on her friend’s rounded abdomen. It was like touching a rock.
She grabbed her phone again and typed having a baby into the search engine.
A stream of websites sprang onto her phone, offering baby classes, pregnancy advice.
Fliss stared at the screen in frustration.
Muttering under her breath, she added the words right now to her search request and saw something about breathing pop up.
She thought back to a TV series Harriet had watched based on a maternity unit. They’d gone on and on about breathing.
Feeling pitifully inadequate, she rubbed Matilda’s shoulder. “Remember your breathing.” That was what they said, wasn’t it? “In through your nose and out through your mouth. Everything is going to be fine. You can hold on ten minutes, right?” Please say yes.
Matilda said nothing. She couldn’t catch her breath to speak.
Instead Fliss saw her hold her breath and push. “Are you pushing?” Panic ripped through her. “Don’t push. Whatever you do, don’t push.”
“Have to.” Matilda panted out the words, and Fliss looked at her in horror.
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not now. She needed only ten minutes! How hard was that?
“Hold your breath. Think about other things.”
“Can’t.” Matilda gasped out the word, her fingernails almost digging holes in Fliss’s arm. It was so painful she almost joined her friend and yelled.
Fliss felt sweat cool her skin. Ten minutes. That was all the time she needed to delay this thing from happening. “Don’t push, don’t push. Do I at least have time to do an internet search on ‘what to do if a baby comes too fast’?”
Matilda’s gaze met hers, and Fliss saw the panic in her friend’s eyes.
Her own panic evaporated in an instant.
She put her arm around Matilda’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “It doesn’t matter. We don’t need the internet. Women have been doing this for centuries without the help of Google. It’s natural. Babies are born every minute, right? No worries.”
She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.
It was dawning on her that she was going to have to deliver a baby.
Why her? Why did she have to be the one in this position?
And then she realized it was Matilda who was in this position, not her, and she felt a stab of shame. She might be bad at some things, but never would she abandon a friend in a crisis.
“It’s okay, really it is.” She hoped Matilda couldn’t see that her hands were shaking. “It’s all going to be fine. Wait there a second—I’m not leaving you, but if it’s really coming now then we have to get ready for it.” She pulled her arm away from Matilda’s grip, sprinted to the bed and grabbed pillows, cushions and the comforter. She flung them on the floor next to her friend.
What else?
She didn’t have a clue.
Matilda grabbed her, gasping, and Fliss tried to think straight. Logic. She was good at logic. “Get closer to the floor. Here, lie on these cushions. It will be more comfortable.” And that way if the baby popped out fast it wasn’t going to start life bashing its head on reclaimed oak.
Her mind was racing ahead. Was she supposed to cut the cord? No. She wasn’t going to touch the cord. But what if the baby wasn’t breathing?
She should probably wash her hands, in case she had to handle it.
She shot into the bathroom and scrubbed her hands as best she could, and took clean towels from the neat pile. She barely had time to register that Matilda’s bathroom looked like something from an upscale spa, before she heard her friend groan in agony.
She shot back into the room.
Hero was next to her, looking worried.
Fliss empathized.
“Move away, Hero. I’m no expert but I don’t think dogs are allowed in the delivery room.”
Matilda sent her a panicked glance. “I can feel the head.”
And suddenly Fliss realized that whoever was coming, they weren’t going to get here in time. She was all Matilda had.
She felt a wash of calm.
“Well, that’s exciting.”
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. Everything is fine.” She gave Matilda’s shoulder a squeeze and then knelt down and saw that there was indeed a head. Was she supposed to check whether the cord was around the neck or anything? She didn’t want to risk touching anything she shouldn’t touch. Before she could decide, Matilda gave another groan and the baby slid out into Fliss’s hands.
She was so shocked she almost dropped it. She held the baby’s slippery body, and emotion choked her. She’d never allowed herself to think about this part. How this must feel, holding new life in your hands. Beginnings.
She’d never been so grateful for her ability to lock her emotions away, but even she struggled to conceal her feelings this time.
Somehow she managed it, and she put the baby carefully in Matilda’s arms and wrapped a towel
around them both.
Then she propped cushions around Matilda to support her.
“She’s not crying—” Matilda gasped out the words, and Fliss felt another flash of anxiety.
Did babies always cry? Weren’t any of them born happy?
She rubbed the baby with the towel, and the newborn started to howl at the same time she heard footsteps on the stairs.
She turned, expecting to see an EMT or someone from the hospital, but instead it was Seth.
He was the last person she’d expected, and she gave a weak smile, ridiculously relieved to see him. Anyone.
“Typical. You arrive when it’s all over. Your timing is terrible.”
CHAPTER TEN
SETH TOOK IN the situation with one glance.
Matilda, the baby and Fliss. He wasn’t sure which of them looked the most traumatized.
Matilda looked exhausted, but Fliss looked worse, her cheeks unnaturally pale.
The fact that she looked relieved to see him told him just how stressed she was.
Deciding to deal with Matilda first, he dropped to his haunches. “Well, this isn’t quite what I expected to find when Chase asked me to check on you. I gather this baby was in a hurry. How are you doing, honey?”
“Okay, I think.” Finally Matilda was able to catch her breath and speak. “He asked you to check on me?”
“You didn’t answer your phone. Chase was worried, so he called me and I said I’d come over.”
Matilda’s gaze softened. “He’s overprotective.”
“I don’t think so. Looks like he made a good call.” He noticed the skillet and frowned. “What’s that doing there?”
“I don’t know.” Matilda looked at Fliss, who was staring into the middle distance, lost in thought.
“What? Sorry? Oh—” She stared at the skillet as if she’d forgotten its presence. “I brought it up from the kitchen.”
Seth wished he could read her thoughts. “What were you planning to do? Fry her breakfast while she was in labor?”
“I didn’t know she was in labor,” she snapped. “I thought there was an intruder, and that was the only weapon at hand. I was getting ready to knock someone unconscious.”
Matilda gave a choked laugh. “I wish you’d done it to me. I could have done with the pain relief. And you still haven’t told me how you came to be here.”
“Hero found me on the beach.” She glanced at the dog, who thumped his tail, soaking up the approval with style. “I brought him home and found the door wide open and a mug and your phone shattered into pieces on the kitchen floor. I assumed you’d left the door open and someone had taken advantage. Then I heard you scream, so I grabbed the skillet.”
Despite her exhausted state, Matilda shot her a look of admiration. “I would have hidden in the closet and called 911.”
“So would most people.” Seth didn’t want to think about what might have happened had it really been intruders and Fliss had faced them armed only with a skillet. He made a mental note to talk to Chase about increasing security.
“I heard you moan and I thought they were hurting you.”
Matilda’s eyes filled. “You were willing to risk your life for me?”
“Hey, don’t get mushy.” Fliss looked alarmed. “I like a good fight, that’s all.”
Seth wondered whether this was a good moment to point out that Harriet wouldn’t hit someone with a skillet even if her life were threatened. She would have thought it through and measured the risks. Then she would have called 911 right away before even thinking of another plan.
Fliss rushed into action and then thought things through.
It had been one of the things he’d loved most about her. And the reason everything between them had unraveled.
She was glaring at him, apparently forgetting to maintain her sister’s identity. “What was I supposed to do? I heard a thump from upstairs, and then she screamed. I thought she’d been attacked, and when I got upstairs she wasn’t saying anything to me—”
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe through the pain. It was agonizing. And intense. I wasn’t anticipating anything like that.”
Seth propped another pillow behind her, wondering if Matilda knew that her rescuer was Fliss, not Harriet. “Precipitate labor. You had no warning?”
“I’ve been having pains for days, but I thought they were normal pains. Then I was in the kitchen and suddenly the pain was overwhelming. I dropped my cup and my phone. Fortunately the pain eased long enough for me to get upstairs. I was going to call Chase from the bedroom, but then I was hit by another pain, and this one didn’t go away. Will the baby be all right? Has it hurt her being born so quickly?” Matilda looked anxiously at the baby and Seth took a look at her.
“She looks happy and content to me.”
“I was all set to go to the medical center. My bag is packed and everything.”
Seth heard the sound of wheels on the gravel. “Sounds like the cavalry is here, so you’ll be making that trip anyway.”
“It hardly seems worth going to the hospital now.”
“It’s worth it. I’ll call Chase and he can meet you there.” Seth stood up. “Does your daughter have a name?”
Matilda held the baby closer, the vision of a contented new mother. “Rose. Rose Felicity Adams.” She smiled. “Felicity, because if it hadn’t been for Fliss, I wouldn’t have got through it.”
There was a tense silence.
He met Fliss’s gaze, and she looked away quickly, as if she knew it was all over.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m touched.”
Matilda smiled, oblivious to the bomb she’d dropped. “I’ve never seen you this emotional. Now you’re the one having trouble speaking.” She reached out and took Fliss’s hand. “Thank you. Will you take care of Hero for me until Chase gets here?”
“Of course. He can come home with me. He earned his name today. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have come looking for you.”
There wasn’t time for any more conversation because at that moment the medical team arrived and Matilda and the baby were bundled into the ambulance.
Seth waited until they were out of sight and then went in search of Fliss.
He found her upstairs in the bedroom cleaning up. She was hauling sheets and towels into a pile, even though half of them hadn’t been anywhere near the baby.
She must have heard his footsteps, but she didn’t pause to look at him. “I’m going to drop this lot in the laundry room. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I need to get back to Grams. If I take Hero, will you secure this place?”
That was all she was going to say?
He thought he saw something glisten on her cheeks. Was she crying?
He reached out to grab her, but she dodged him. It was possible she hadn’t seen his hand, but more probable that she’d chosen not to take it.
He watched as she walked quickly out of the bedroom, Hero at her heels.
He ached for her. He wanted to drag her into his arms and force her to tell him how she felt, but he knew he had to take this at her pace, so instead of grabbing her again he thrust his hands in his pockets and forced himself to take it slowly.
This was Fliss he was dealing with. Fliss, who hid every feeling. Who never talked about things. Who fought battles on her own, her own way.
Mouth tight, he followed her downstairs and found her in the laundry room.
“Fliss—”
“I’m tired, Seth. It’s been a pretty busy evening.” She kept her back to him. “I’ll lock up here and take Hero to my grandmother’s, so you can take off if you like.”
And he was willing to bet that was exactly what she was hoping he’d do.
The fact that she still wasn’t looking at him told him a lot about how bad she felt. That and the raw emotion shimmering in her voice.
“Talk to me.” He tried gentle, the same approach he would take with an injured animal. No sudden moves.
“Nothing to talk about. The bab
y is fine. Matilda is fine. What is there to talk about?”
“We could start with the fact that you’re shaking.” He could make out the delicate lines of her profile. He saw that she was on edge, and he understood the reason. “We could talk about the fact that if I wasn’t here, you’d be crying.”
“Never been much of a crier.” She stuffed the laundry into the machine. “But if I did shed a little tear of emotion, that would be understandable, wouldn’t it? It’s not every day a baby is born in front of you in less time than it usually takes me to swallow a hamburger.”
He studied her expression, trying to work out how best to tackle this. Direct? No. She’d definitely run. Oblique, then. Carefully. “Can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, but she handled it like a trouper.”
“I was talking about you.”
“I was just the spectator.”
“Didn’t look that way to me. And she did name her daughter after you, so she obviously felt you played an important role.”
“She named her after Fliss. I’m Harriet.”
He didn’t know whether to feel sympathy or pity. “Are we seriously going to do this?”
Her shoulders slumped. “All right, you win. I’m Fliss. Are you happy now?”
“Do I look happy?”
“You’re mad that I pretended to be Harriet. You feel deceived.”
“I wasn’t deceived. I’ve known almost from the first moment that you weren’t Harriet.”
“You did?” Finally she looked at him. “As a matter of interest, what gave me away?”
“The fact that I wanted to take you to the beach, strip you naked and have sex with you. I’ve never felt that way about your sister.”
Her mouth fell open with shock. “Seth—”
“There’s a chemistry between us I can’t explain, and it doesn’t matter how many dresses you wear, or perfect cookies you manage to produce, I’d still know which twin I was talking to.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I assumed you had your reasons for hiding from me. I have a pretty good idea what those reasons were, but maybe it’s time you shared them. I told you the truth. Now it would be good if you did me the same favor and told me the truth.”