by Racquel Reck
With tears in his eyes, he nods.
There’s a gunman on the loose, and I have to find Shay. What if he has her? It’s a cannon ball blast to the gut. My eyes dart around backstage. Head hopping from bouncer to fan to technician. Everybody is doing their own thing, rushing around, and the back door opens as cops swarm into the immense space.
My chest seizes and I inhale. What if she’s gone? We just made things right. She’s carrying my baby. My voice cracks, “Where’s your mom?”
“She went to the bathroom right before the shots rang out.” Logan reaches for Ben. “Go. I’ll keep the kid safe.”
Panic pounds an unsteady rhythm against my rib cage. I go to leave and Ben grabs my waist.
He shakes his head. “I wanna go.”
Logan runs a hand through his hair and looks around. He whistles to someone.
I don’t see or care who it is. My son’s upset. He’s shaking and the sheer fear I see in his eyes puts me in a difficult spot. I’m caught between the urge to protect him and my desperate need to find Shay.
Tryst walks up. He gives me a silent nod. “It’s okay, Duders.” He pries Ben off my waist and Ben clings to him. “We’ll all go find her.”
Shay
Pants around my ankles, I grip the pole on the wall of the handicap stall as another pain lances through me. My heart’s flying so fast I’m having trouble breathing. I’m in too much pain to move. These definitely aren’t Braxton Hicks.
Dani rubs my back.
I don’t know what the hell that noise was, but when it rang out and people started screaming, Dani crawled under the stall door, scared out of her mind. It’s a rock concert and people scream all the time. But it still freaked her out. The stress from seeing her that way triggered another contraction.
It’s too early for me to have my baby. I’m still a month away. This can’t be happening. Thoughts of Ben race through my mind. Logan’s with him. He’s more than capable of taking care of Ben. He has a healthy, happy ten-year-old girl as proof of that. I breathe in deep through my nose and grit my teeth as another contraction runs its evil slice through my abdomen.
“Want me to go get my Dad?” She brushes my sweaty hair from my face.
“No.” I grind my teeth. Not letting her out of my sight.
“I’m scared.”
“Nothing to be scared about.” I grip the pole on the wall and go to stand as another sharp pain slashes through me. I try to hold in my scream for her benefit, but it belts out anyway. What the hell am I going to do? I can’t move. Dani is scared and Logan doesn’t even know the trouble I’m in. Nobody does. I can’t even pull up my goddamn pants!
“Hello!” a woman’s voice calls from the other side of the stall. “Is there a Shay in here?”
“Yes!” Dani screams. “We need help.” She unlocks the stall door.
I grip the pole tighter and go to stand.
The stall door flies open. Morgan enters, eyes huge and face sheet-white.
I’m going to be alright. He’s here. A wave of relief crashes down on a sigh.
“Is the concert done?” A sharp stabbing pain followed by a gush of warm liquid travels down my legs to the floor. “You gotta be fucking kidding me! Now?”
“Get someone in here!” Morgan yells. “Shay’s water broke!”
He grabs my arms to hold me up. Another violent contraction roars in my abdomen. I scream and collapse to the toilet.
Logan rushes into the stall. “Keep her sitting and keep her legs elevated.” He looks down at Dani. “Come on, we need to get an EMT.” They rush out the door.
“Where the hell is my son?”
Morgan swipes some toilet paper and wipes the sweat from my brow. He strips off his black T-shirt and grabs my arms to help me stand. “That seat is gross.” He places the shirt over the toilet and helps me sit down. “He’s with Tryst, Logan, and Dani. We didn’t want him seeing you like this. He’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.”
But the worry in his eyes tells me he doesn’t believe it. I cry out again. I fucking hate labor!
“Breathe, Mama. Just breathe.” Morgan rubs the side of my cheek and his hands feel clammy. His whole skin tone is a little paler.
“You okay?”
He nods. “You’re the one about to give birth. How about we worry about you?”
“I heard a loud noise and a lot of people were screaming.”
“We’re at a rock concert. People scream. Don’t worry about that right now.”
The bathroom door slams open. “Shay!”
Tryst. “Yeah, I thought you were with Ben? Where is—ow!”
“He’s getting an EMT with Logan and Dani. I’m gonna pull up my truck. All the EMT’s here are busy. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
“I’m not having…baby…back of your truck!” I scream as another white-hot pain shoots through me. “Get a fucking EMT in here. Now!”
“Better do as she—”
“Shut up, Morgan!” I don’t need him holding Tryst up with conversation. I need my cousin to get with the fucking pro—“Ahh…”
I try to focus on my breathing. I block everything and everyone out and concentrate on the pain. It feels like I’m being ripped in half and soldered at the same time. I never felt this with Ben. I was flying happy on my epidural. “It’s coming. I can feel it.”
“Let me have a look.” He kneels down in between my legs, then tries to put my knees over his elbows. It’s hard to do with my pants around my ankles so his arms go over, then under and he lifts. It doesn’t help the pressure on my lower body. It hurts so fucking bad I wish God would put me out of this misery. I scream through the contraction.
“Holy shit!” Morgan’s eyes are wide, his mouth is gaping, and he looks a little green. He gags. “Don’t push.”
Easy for him to say. He’s not pushing a human being out his asshole. I can’t help it. The pressure is doing what I’m trying so hard not to do. Sweat drips down my head as I try to will the baby to stop. Not having her in a public bathroom.
“I mean it, Shay.” He looks behind him. “I need some fucking help in here! Now! I can see my baby’s head!”
Thirty-six
Morgan
Shay’s screams ring out in my ears. Sitting on the toilet with her knees cradled in the creases of my elbows, she’s lifted up enough for me to see the black hair and bloody shine of the top of our baby’s head. It’s not the 24th of September. It’s the fucking middle of August!
My stomach heaves and my mouth waters. My head feels light. I can’t do this. I can’t look at this. But I have to. No one else seems to give a shit that a woman is having a baby in bathroom stall three. I glance back at the door. “Where the fuck is an EMT?”
Shay screams again. Her face is red and her breathing erratic. She needs to calm down. Shit. I need to calm down. I try to remember what Logan and Cadence did when Jocelyn was giving birth to Dani on my kitchen floor. But at that time, I couldn’t stomach it and was on the phone with the cops.
“Shay, Mama, I know you’re in pain but you have to concentrate on your—”
“Fuck you!” She grinds her teeth and holds her breath. Every muscle is straining in her neck. She roars the most blood-curdling scream I’ve heard since I entered the bathroom. It’s almost as bad as Bryan’s roar was earlier.
Dare I look down? I try not to but do anyway. The head is completely out. Oh Shit! Oh shit! What do I do! My heart bangs in my chest. If I unhook my arms to try and ease the baby out, her head will end up in the toilet.
Someone enters the rest room.
An EMT comes up on my side. “Out of the wa—Holy shit!” He glances back. “Desirae, we have a huge problem in here.”
A huge problem is a gigantic understatement.
Shay screams again then holds her breath as a female EMT enters the stall. “My name’s Desirae.” She glances at Shay. “What’s yours?”
Shay grinds her teeth, then yells, “Shay!”
Desirae nods. “We
ll, Shay. You need to breathe, sweetheart. This baby is coming on its own terms. Ain’t no stoppin’ it now.”
The male EMT grabs Shay’s legs. “I need you to move. Go up there and stand by her. She needs to breathe right.”
The fuck do I know about breathing right in this situation? I should have insisted we take a class. I pull my arms out from under Shay’s knees, and Desirae the female EMT takes my place. I grab Shay’s hand and immediately her fingers crush mine like a vice. I grit my teeth. “Ya gotta breathe, Mama.”
The female nurse looks up from between Shay’s legs. “That’s all you got for her?” She shakes her head. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.” Then she does some whoo-whoo-hee shit with her own breathing.
It works instantly. It’s as if Shay has suddenly remembered how to breathe through this. Except it’s not the whoo-whoo-hee shit, its Shay’s own type of breathing. She takes a couple breaths then stops as her face scrunches and becomes red. When she inhales again, it’s on a grunt and the process is repeated over and over.
I do the silly breathing to encourage her. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? I mean that’s what they do in the movies. Even if she’s not following my lead, it’s still supposed to help her, right?
“Okay, now on your next contraction,” Desirae looks up at Shay, “push with everything you have. I need to get the shoul—”
Shay screams and grits her jaw. Every muscle in her face tightens, and so does the grip on my hand. Then she lets out a breath and goes back to the funky breathing routine. Her head falls and I catch it before it knocks into a wall. She looks utterly exhausted. And for a moment I wonder if she might pass out.
“Good. Excellent. You’re doing fantastic.” Desirae looks up at Shay again. “The shoulders are out. One or two more pushes and you should be done. Hang—”
Another roar and Shay bears it again. She pushes with all her might. I hear nothing. All I see is a woman who should have passed out by now, who looked like she was going to pass out, suddenly become energized. She’s determined to get the baby out of her. She’s strong and fierce and I couldn’t have picked a better woman to mother my child.
“Out!” Desirae passes my little girl to the male EMT.
My daughter’s here? Pride fills my heart and I glance down at Shay. She nodded out. Well, that was a hell of a thing for her to go through. She was so strong and held it together even though she was in so much pain. I can’t help but admire her even more for her courage and strength. She deserves her rest. But I can’t help but wipe the sweat off her face and kiss the top of her head. “You were fucking amazing, Shay.”
Desirae looks at me like I have a kid growing out of my head. “Are you going to cut the cord?”
The cord? Oh. “Yeah.”
I hear a tiny little cry coming from behind Desirae. What the hell is he doing to my little girl? I move around Desirae and see the EMT sucking out her nose and mouth with one of those baby nose-sucker thingies. She’s so small. But her feet are kicking and her arms are punching. Warmth invades my chest and I smile. She has the same spirit as Shay. The man hands me scissors and shows me where to cut just below a yellow clamp.
I go to cut it and it’s not easy. It feels like cutting a thick cable with a pair of plastic scissors. After a few attempts it finally comes free. The man wraps my little girl in a towel and hands her off to me.
Desirae is working between Shay’s legs. “Get the gurney in here!”
My daughter is crying. Cradling her against my chest, my heart bangs out of rhythm as I bounce a little to soothe her. I don’t like the way Shay is looking. All pale. She looks like death. An eerie feeling creeps up inside me and my stomach churns. “Why is she—is she…?” I can’t even think it let alone say it.
“She just passed out.” Desirae stands. “The afterbirth won’t come out. We have to get her to the hospital.”
Her words are only a small relief. Those were the same words the EMT’s fed to Logan, then after Jocelyn gave birth at the hospital, she died.
The male EMT wheels a gurney in. In unison, they lift Shay onto it. There’s something they aren’t telling me. Her face is too pale.
My stomach plummets as my emotions jack-knife for the thousandth time today. There has to be some cosmic rule that says it won’t happen twice in one family. Right? God, please don’t take her from me.
I follow them out of the restroom and backstage to a waiting ambulance. Every thought in my head is gone. I’m empty. I have my daughter. But if I don’t have Shay, what the hell am I going to do?
Thirty-seven
Morgan
Shay’s lying in the hospital bed sound asleep. Her color is returning. They gave her a bag of universal-donor blood in the ambulance, and that’s all she needed apparently. She scared the hell out of me, and relief went through me in a rush when they said she was going to be okay.
Her eyes flutter under closed lids. I wonder what she’s dreaming about.
My mother had a ton of energy after she had Logan. She was up and out of bed wanting a shower and a cigarette. It’s one of my first memories of her, ’cause Dad was yelling at her to lie down and rest. But Shay, she’s freaking wiped out. I don’t blame her. All that pushing and screaming and pain.
When we got here, they worked on her and she passed the afterbirth. Man, that shit was gross. I gag. But then remember her waking up. Demanding to see our daughter. I told Shay they took her down to NICU to get checked out by a pediatrician. She wanted to see Ben. But Ben wasn’t here yet. I told her he was with Logan and that settled her. She conked back out.
She’s one amazingly strong woman. Giving birth under those circumstances wasn’t easy. The way she handled it…how brave she was, I can’t help but admire. She gave me a gift, a part of herself that no one could ever give me—a little piece of her and me.
I let go of her hand and look at the clock. They’ve had my daughter for over an hour. A nagging bit of worry slips into my thoughts. She was small. But she cried. She has to be all right, right? If something was wrong, they’d come and tell me.
My knee bobs up and down. My skin feels too tight for my body. The urge to smoke rides me hard. But funny enough, I don’t crave a speedball. My stomach turns just thinking about it.
The door clicks open and a nurse wheels in a clear plastic tub. Er…hospital bassinet? What the hell do they call those things?
“Mr. Desario?” She wheels my daughter over to me.
“Yeah?” I look down at her. Her light complexion has a pink hue and her full lips are making sucking motions in her sleep. She’s wearing a tiny pink beanie and is wrapped up like a burrito in a little white hospital blanket with blue and pink stripes.
The nurse reaches in and gently lifts her. “She’s a healthy baby. Five pounds seven ounces and sixteen inches long. Would you like to hold her?”
I held her the whole way to the ambulance. I walked through all the craziness backstage and didn’t think once about dropping her or how I should hold her. Now that I know everything is okay, I’m afraid that something is going to go wrong. I have that feeling and my gut never lies. “I don’t want to break her.”
The nurse giggles. “Babies are pretty durable. You won’t break her.” She goes to pass her to me. “Hold out your arms like this and make sure you support”—she places my little girl in my arms and positions my arm under her—“her neck. She may be durable but the neck is weak.”
My daughter opens her eyes and I see the reflection of Shay in them. They are big and almond shaped like hers. She blinks a couple times then sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry. I chuckle. “You’re a lot like your mother.”
She smacks her lips and yawns.
My heart swells. Is this what Logan felt like the first time he held Dani?
“Have you thought of a name?” The nurse sets up some formula bottles on a side table. “I need to know so I can put it on her placard.”
Her name? Shay and I never really discussed it. Wi
th my overdose, us making up, and the concert, we really haven’t had—
“Her name’s Carla.” Shay’s voice is small, scratchy, as she sits up in the bed. “Can I see her?”
Carla? My heart beats fast as I move closer to the bed. She remembered my story about how I lost my sister, even remembered Carla’s name. God, this woman is perfect.
I set Carla down in Shay’s outstretched arms. “Careful, you have to support—”
She quirks a brow at me. “I’ve had a baby before. I remember.” She pulls aside her hospital gown and puts Carla to her breast. It takes Carla a few tries but she gets it.
Shay winces.
“You okay?”
She nods. “It just stings a little and takes some getting used to.”
I sift my fingers through her silky hair and kiss her cheek, and wetness hits my lips. “Are you okay?”
“Will you quit asking me that? I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed.” She sighs. “Where’s Ben?”
“He’s with Logan, Dani, and Tryst.” I look toward the door. I haven’t been out to the waiting room yet. “I should go tell them everything’s fine.”
She smiles. “Yeah, and bring them back. But wait to bring them. Give me like twenty minutes to finish feeding her and I should change her.”
I nod, kiss her head, and lightly touch Carla’s cheek. She coos and I can’t help the grin on my face.
#####
Walking through the halls to the waiting room, there’s swagger in my step, but the sense of pride and accomplishment vanishes when I spot Bebe. Her eyes are red and puffy. She’s been crying. Unease seeps into my happy place. She stands abruptly and shakes her head. Her lip quivers. And somehow I know it’s not because Carla came into the world. There is no smile on her face.
She meets me halfway across the room. “Is Shay okay?”
Relief barrels through me. She’s upset because I never came out to tell them that everything’s all good. I let them stew for almost two hours. “She’s doing great and the baby is fine.” I look around and it’s then that I notice Bebe is the only one I know who’s here. “Where’s Ben, Logan, Dani, and Tryst?”