“Okay, I’m going to examine you, Melissa, okay? It’s not going to be comfortable.”
“Hurry. I want to push.”
“No! Not until I tell you.”
Another contraction is cresting. I clutch Greg’s hand. He uses his silk tie to wipe my forehead.
Dr. Mankoff looks up at me. “You’re only eight centimeters. We have to wait.”
“I can’t wait. It hurts.” Another contraction comes as soon as I say it. “Drugs. I need drugs.”
“There’s no time, Melissa,” Dr. Mankoff says. “You’re too far dilated and you’re contractions are too close together. You’re in active labor. It won’t be long now.”
Greg gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. You can do this, Mel. Just breathe.” His mouth forms an ‘o’ and he sucks in a breath as if he’s inhaling through a straw. He wants me to imitate him. I do. Then force the air out in a slow, controlled exhale.
I grip his hand until the pain subsides, but it’s short lived, because I have another contraction almost as quickly as the last one ends. Sweat trickles down the side of my face.
Dr. Mankoff examines me again. “You’re at nine. One more centimeter to go. Don’t push yet.”
Greg keeps looking at me and breathes. I follow his lead. When he sees I’m keeping up, he strokes my hair. “You’re doing great, Mel. Keep breathing. It’ll be over soon. And you’ll have a beautiful little baby.”
“Owwwwww!” This is the worst one yet. “I have to…”
Dr. Mankoff looks again. “Okay, you’re ten centimeters dilated. You can push with the next contraction, okay?”
I nod. It isn’t long before another wave of pain comes.
“Okay, push, Melissa.” And I do with all of my might. “Hold.”
I hold as long as I can, but I get tired and I have to stop pushing. I fall back into the bed. There’s just enough time to take a breath. And then another pain strikes.
“Push,” Dr. Mankoff orders.
I push, then rest, but not for more than a few moments. I’m so tired, but the pain is fierce. Greg maneuvers himself behind me and helps me push my body forward on Dr. Mankoff’s cue.
“One more, Melissa. I see the head.”
“I’m so tired.”
“You can do it.”
“Come on, Melissa. You want to see your baby, don’ t you?” Greg asks.
“Yes.”
“Then push.”
With the next contraction, I push hard, clenching my teeth. The pressure is intense as I feel the baby push through.
“Keep pushing, Melissa,” Dr. Mankoff instructs. “You need to get the rest of the baby out.”
I push again and the baby releases from my body. The pressure and the pain are gone.
“It’s a girl!” Dr. Mankoff announces, holding her up for me to see. Tears stream from my face as she hands my daughter to me. Dr. Mankoff cuts the umbilical cord. Even though she’s covered in blood and amniotic fluid, she’s the most beautiful baby I have ever seen. Her small mouth is shaped like Dylan’s and her little nose looks like my mother’s.
A nurse appears at my side. “I’m going to clean her up and weigh her.” I don’t want to, but I hand her over.
Greg kisses my forehead. “You did great, Mel. She’s beautiful.”
“Stay away from her, Greg. I don’t want you sleeping with my daughter.”
“One more push for the afterbirth, okay, Melissa?” Dr. Mankoff says.
I push and the ooze of the placenta gushes free from my body. A nurse replaces Dr. Mankoff at the foot of the bed and cleans me up.
After my vitals are taken again, I’m wheeled into the post-delivery room. Dr. Mankoff comes in just as I get into the bed. I’m sore all over and all I really want to do is sleep, but in her arms she’s carrying a small, pink bundle. She hands me my beautiful little girl.
Now that she’s clean, her features are clearer. She’s definitely Dylan’s daughter. A full head of dark, wavy hair crowns her head. Water from my eyes cascade down my cheeks.
“Are you going to breast feed?” the nurse asks.
“Yes.”
“I’ll show you how.”
The baby latches on immediately.
A voice from the doorway calls my name. “Mel?” John pushes Dylan in a wheelchair.
“Dylan!” I say, holding our daughter as more tears run down my face. Several wires connect him to a heart monitor. I tilt my arms so he can see his daughter.
“She’s beautiful, like her mother.” He stares at me and I see him fall in love with her instantly. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “You?”
“I was putting a roof on. Then there was a pain in my chest and my arm hurt. The next thing I knew, your ex-husband was standing over me. He says I’ll be fine.”
“He told me.”
“He did?”
“He stayed with me while I delivered.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Dylan says.
“You’ll be there for the next one.” I wink.
“You mean you want to go through that again?”
I smile. “As long as we can keep practicing.”
He smiles too. “I’m ready.
“No you aren’t. Neither am I.”
“Good.” His smile widens. “I don’t want you to start without me.” He looks over at the baby. “We never picked names.”
I look down at my new daughter and smile. “I was thinking Olivia?” I say.
His face softens as he realizes what I’m suggesting. “Olivia?”
“Your father told me what a wonderful person your mother was, and how much she meant to you. I know how her death affected you.”
“Olivia is a beautiful name.” Dylan stands and kisses our daughter on her little brown curls and then kisses me on the lips.
Finally, I know I’m going to be all right. Everything is right. It’s perfect. I look at my daughter and she’s proof.
Acknowledgements
I am the luckiest girl in the world for having my fabulously patient and understanding husband, and two incredible sons, who put up with their mother’s crazy shenanigans. They always allow me the time to write and offer helpful suggestions when I’ve run into a mental roadblock. My life would be nothing without you guys.
My mother, who is my biggest fan, has no idea that I could never be half the person I am today without her love and guidance. She gives this world a positive hope that always keeps me steady. She is the best mother anyone could ever ask for.
This story would not have been written without the gentle nudging from my friend and neighbor, Melissa, who challenged me to write a story in a genre I had never attempted before. Upon her insistence, I submitted it to Limitless Publications, and now you are reading it.
None of my writing is worth anything without the members of my writing group: Jan, Jill, Gina, May, Blake, Maryanne, Sara, Connor, Kenny, Frank, Howie, Steve, Tony, Carolyn, Leidra, Chris and Cheryl. Thank you for all of your undying, and unconditional support. A special thank you to the members of my focus group – Melissa L, Joanne, Melissa B, Connor, and Sara. I appreciate all of the positive feedback and confirmations.
However, none of this would be possible without Jennifer and Jessica at Limitless Publications, who read my story and decided that more people would
enjoy it as much as they did. They gave me the opportunity to share it with you. I can never thank you enough for taking a chance on me.
About the Author
Ashleigh Royce grew up an only child in Queens, New York. Being alone a lot of the time afforded her many opportunities to create made-up worlds and stories for her to explore. Those fictitious adventures encouraged her to write down her stories and share them with her friends, who loved hearing about the latest details.
Soon, it was time to share her imaginary tales with people outside of her friend circle. And one place in particular she sent one of her creations to, was Limitless Publications, where they fully enjoyed the read.
So now that this story – “Neighbors,” an erotic romance - is available, Ashleigh is working hard on the next story, that is, between being a wife to a great guy; a mom to two fabulous kids; an editor for a local magazine; a writer’s workshop moderator; a PTA president, and a full-time paralegal.
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/ashleigh.royce.1
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/AshleighRoyce
Goodreads:
www.goodreads.com/user/show/22605620-ashleigh-royce
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Neighbors Page 18