Southern Spirits (The Southern Series Book 3)

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Southern Spirits (The Southern Series Book 3) Page 16

by Shelley Stringer


  “You are so beautiful, Chandler. I love you so much! It’s been torture not to be able to get word to you, to talk to you,” he whispered, placing kisses down my neck. Stopping abruptly, he slid his thumbs under my eyes and wiped the tears away. “I’ve never been so frustrated…knowing you needed me and I couldn’t get word to you I was alive and coming home to you.”

  All I could do was stare at him and nod. His eyes were so beautiful, seeming to be three different shades of brown at once. They sparkled with unshed tears as he continued to flash his dimple at me. He embraced me again, pulling my cheek up against his lips as his breath brushed inside my earlobe.

  “How can you possibly be more beautiful than when I left? You are glowing, Chandler. You have to be the most stunning pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.”

  As he slid his fingers into my hairline, catching the long curly tresses fully into his grasp, his mouth covered mine again, his kisses long, intense gulps as he seemed to drink in the memory of my lips.

  He pulled away when we heard a knock on the door.

  “Go away!” I called out as he chuckled and pulled me in close, folding his arms around me. With my face in his chest, I inhaled deeply…I’d missed his smell.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move Chandler to the clinic now. We’re under a severe thunderstorm and tornado watch, and they’re expecting the weather to deteriorate rapidly in the next two hours. We don’t want to get caught on the road with her,” John warned. He and Sam came back in the room with Everett directly behind them.

  “Yeah, let’s get you to Dr. Lane’s,” Banton agreed with them as I peeked out from under his arms and started to protest.

  “I promise, we won’t separate the two of you for a second. We’ve got the Lincoln running, and you two can have the back seat all to yourselves,” John promised. He took Banton’s hand to help him up.

  As Banton started to push off the bed to stand, John just swung him up into his arms. “This will be much quicker, Brother, don’t argue…I’ll just run you to the bottom of the stairs and plop you down.” He started out of the room with Banton.

  “I’ll get Chandler.” Sam leaned over to pick me up from the bed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, wait, I need to go to the bathroom again,” I stalled. The pain in my lower back was getting worse, and when I rose, pains shot across my tailbone and everything seemed to tighten. A sudden gush of water between my legs soaked my tights and the side of the bed. Startled, I looked up at Sam as Everett exclaimed, “Sweet Holy Mary, Kids…Chandler’s water just broke!”

  “What?” Banton whipped his head around over John’s shoulder at the top of the stairs. John whirled, just as a spasm ripped across my abdomen, seeming to pull my tummy down to the floor with the contraction.

  “Sam, pick her up, and get her downstairs!” Banton yelled. His frustration at not being able to do it himself was apparent. Sam did as instructed. He scooped me up in his arms and hurried down the staircase with me.

  “Wait, let me get something dry on,” I complained as he carried me out the front door and into the front yard.

  “We’ll take care of all that in the car, Bebe, don’t worry,” Everett called from somewhere behind us. We were quickly surrounded by family in the front yard as everyone talked at once. Sam and John made the announcement my labor had started as I was loaded into the car. John shoved Banton in on the opposite side and then jumped into the front seat. Everett climbed in beside me with a blanket. Within seconds we were off, our little circus caravan of family, SEALs and Aldon trailing down the interstate toward the clinic. Banton glanced worriedly back and forth out the window at the black clouds beginning to gather overhead, then back to my face as I fought to control my breathing. The contractions intensified.

  “Here, Bebe, let’s get those wet things off – we’ll just wrap you up in the blanket.” Everett threw the corner of the blanket across me to Banton as Banton helped me off with my tights. After he had my clothes off under the blanket, he wrapped it around me and pulled me over into his lap, cradling me in his arms. I lay my head on his shoulder.

  I gritted my teeth when another contraction hit. “As bad as this is, I’m so happy…you’re here, and the babies are coming.” My voice rose, the pain grabbing me again, doubling me over as Banton tried to soothe me. He slid his hand under the blanket, and placed it on my abdomen as he watched my expressions. When the pain subsided, I relaxed and smiled up at his concerned face. “This is nothing, compared to the pain of losing you.”

  “Boy, Dr. Lane nailed this one. He said hurricanes seem to bring on labor early,” John commented from the front seat.

  “Is he concerned…I mean, this is too early, isn’t it?” Banton asked as Everett wiped my forehead with a cool rag.

  “Just a month,” I panted out breathlessly. “We are only about a week and a half away from where the doctor really wanted me to be.”

  I began to breathe faster. I could feel the next contraction beginning, and my lower back and abdomen were beginning to tighten in to a hard contraction.

  “Sam, get us the hell to that clinic! These contractions are only about four minutes apart!” Banton exploded as he glanced at his watch. In spite of the pain, I couldn’t help but smile. Banton seemed so serious and frustrated. This was one situation he couldn’t control. Even in the middle of the contractions, warmth tingles spread over me with the knowledge Banton was home, and I was in his arms.

  I reached up and wiped the sweat that had begun to form on his brow. Banton leaned down, pressing his lips softly to my forehead.

  “Bebe, did the contractions just start when your water broke?” Everett asked, pouring fresh water over the washrag out of his water bottle and bathing my face again. I held my breath, waiting for a contraction to pass.

  “No, I guess they started earlier. I thought it was just a backache, but now I know it must have been my labor starting,” I gritted through my teeth as the pain began to subside.

  “How long ago did your back start hurting?” Banton asked, stroking my cheek with his thumb. His brow creased. I began to wince again, the pain coming back much faster this time.

  “When I woke up, about noon,” I gasped out. A hard contraction hit. This time, I let out a moan and then a scream, the pain becoming unbearable. I watched the helplessness on Banton’s face as everything began to snow out of my vision, the pain causing me to become light-headed. I fought to stay conscious as the SUV came to a halt outside the clinic doors.

  “Hang on, sweetheart, we’re here,” Banton pleaded. The doors flew open. I was losing my grip on awareness. I felt two sets of arms pulling me out of the door and then laying me on a gurney. I watched over me as we passed under the awning and through the doors into the emergency room entrance to the clinic.

  Dr. Lane’s voice broke through the confusion around me. “She’s bleeding, there’s too much blood…” he exclaimed, pulling the blanket from me. Banton was at my shoulder, his face coming into view as he grabbed my hand and held it.

  I could feel cold hands on my abdomen. “She’s not dilated, and she’s hemorrhaging. Don’t bother with the fetal monitors. We need to get them out, now.” Dr. Lane cautioned.

  “Hurry, please! Banton, don’t leave me,” I pleaded, scared I was about to lose them.

  Banton gently took my face in his hands, and leaned over to kiss me. “I love you…you and the babies are going to be fine. I’m not going anywhere.” He continued to gaze at me as Dr. Renault spoke.

  “You’re going to be fine, Chandler. The babies will be all right. We’re going to take them, but we’ve got to do a C-section now. We don’t have time for an epidural, so we’re going to put you under. Just calm down,” Dr. Renault’s face came into view as he placed the rubber mask over my mouth.

  Banton leaned over me and kissed my forehead. “I promise you, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  “Just count backwards from ten, Chandler,” Dr. Renault commanded as I nodded.

  I w
atched Banton’s beautiful face as he counted with me. “Ten, nine, eight…” And his face faded from view.

  Chapter Eleven

  Voices drifted around me as I fought the fog in my brain… “Sleeping!”… “Look just like Banton!”… “Chandler is still out.”…”Sirens are sounding…lost power…” Loud noises intruded as the excited voices continued to drift in and out. I could hear the loud wind and rain and huge claps of thunder that seemed to rock the room I was in. I pushed myself to wake up as I heard someone say “tornado on the ground, south side of the city… get the generators running!”

  I was panicked. Where were my babies? Were we safe from the storm? Banton, where was Banton? Oh, God…had I just dreamed he was alive? Banton… I couldn’t see. I fought to open my eyes, and all I could make out was darkness and shadows. A bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, lighting the room with a flash.

  Someone hovered over me. I fought to focus my eyes. The medication they’d given me must be affecting my vision, I thought. As I struggled to focus, Banton’s face took form. When he caught sight of my opened eyes, he grinned down at me. His dimple made my world brighter than the lightening had.

  “Banton…you’re here!” I tried to shout over the thunder, but croaked instead.

  “Of course I am, Sweetheart. I’ve been right here the whole time.”

  “Where are the babies?” I asked hoarsely.

  “Shhh. Rest, now,” he soothed me, placing his lips in my hair. “The babies are fine. They’re here in the room with us, Chandler. Momma and Daddy are holding them right now.” His face split into a huge smile as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

  “They’re sleeping. Oh, God, Chandler, they’re so beautiful --and so are you.” He leaned over and kissed me gently on the forehead, and then moved down to my lips, placing a more lingering kiss there. He leaned his forehead into mine, and I was momentarily lost in his gaze.

  “Thank you, baby. I love you so much,” he murmured softly.

  I began to relax, realizing from his manner everything was fine. “Two girls?” I asked sleepily. He shook his head slowly and grinned.

  “A girl and boy. One perfectly matched pair, just like Aunt Chloe predicted.”

  “Why is it so dark in here? Banton, I want to see our babies. I want…” I winced as I tried to raise my head. My abdomen felt as though I’d been sawed in half, every muscle in my body ached.

  “Shhh. We’ll let you see them, just let us get some lights on. Wait a few minutes, John and Sam are trying to get the generators hooked up to get some power on.” He reached down and cradled my face with his hand, stroking my cheek again with his thumb.

  The fog began to lift in my brain enough to begin to worry. “Are the babies’ lungs good? How is their breathing?” I asked anxiously.

  “They seem fine, but Dr. Renault wants to put them under oxygen tents until they consult with an Aldon pediatrician. Sam and John are rigging something up now.”

  He continued to stroke my cheek as I asked questions. “How much did they weigh?”

  Banton chuckled. “Our big boy weighed in at seven pounds and nine ounces! Mrs. Sue said he looks like a three month old, that he is every bit as big as either one of her two boys were, and they weren’t twins. We’d all hate to see how big he would have been, if he hadn’t been a twin, and early…” he trailed off.

  “And our daughter?” I asked. I watched his eyes sparkle.

  “Six pounds, two ounces. That’s fourteen pounds of babies, Sweetheart! I don’t know how you did it!” He leaned over and kissed me again. “So, what are we naming them?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to see them first.” I smiled as I watched his face in the dark. Lights flashed in the other room, and the lights on the foot of my bed flashed.

  “Sam must finally have us hooked to a power source,” Banton commented.

  “They’re so perfect, Chandler. The most beautiful babies I’ve ever seen!” Mrs. Elaine exclaimed as she walked over closer to the bed. I could see one of the babies bundled in her arms, but I couldn’t make out a face. Banton reached over and took the control to the bed.

  “Here, let me raise your head just a bit.” When he moved to prop more pillows behind me, I winced.

  “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked anxiously.

  “No, I’m just sore, that’s all. Please, raise me a little more. I want to hold them.” I held my arms out, and took my baby just as the reserve low-lights blinked and came on in the room. The tiny face that greeted me could not have been more angelic.

  “Meet our beautiful daughter, Mommy,” Banton whispered, touching her cheek.

  “Oh, wow! Hey, sweet girl,” I whispered to her. “So you’re one of the culprits who’s been kick-boxing me in the ribs.” I took her tiny hand in my fingers, and pressed my pinky finger into her grasp as she clenched it tightly. I looked up at Banton through my tears.

  “Ellyson…Elly. I think it fits. Ellyson Marie Gastaneau,” Banton whispered as I nodded. She had a head full of jet black hair curling around her face. She was sleeping, but I could tell she resembled Banton. Her lashes curled downward and touched her chubby cheeks. I took my finger out of her grasp and touched the corner of her little mouth. She puckered her mouth at first, and then scrunched her tiny cheeks into a grin – the slightest hint of a dimple showed at the corner of her mouth.

  I gasped, “Look at her dimple!” and then glanced up at Banton as he grinned down at me, showing me his.

  “Yes, you marked both of them good, you little stud-muffin, you!” Everett teased, waltzing into the room. “Good to see you awake, Bebe! You sure had everyone hopping there for a little while. I’ve never seen Sam so unhinged, or our cowboy John pace more. Even the Aldon were unsettled!” He leaned over to kiss my cheek.

  “So our baby boy has the same dimple?” I asked, grinning up at Banton.

  “He sure does. Here, give Ellyson to me,” Banton urged. I handed her up to him. Then Mr. Matt leaned over and handed me our son. He picked that exact same moment to open his eyes and yawn, a precious squeak escaping as he closed his little mouth. My eyes began to tear again as Banton whispered, “And both of them definitely have your beautiful almond shaped eyes.” He placed a kiss gently on Ellyson’s forehead.

  Aunt Sue and Uncle Lon pushed through the doorway as everyone else craned their necks in the hallway to see in.

  “I can see both of you in their features. They’re beautiful!” she exclaimed when she pulled the receiving blanket away from our son’s face.

  “Oh, crap, Mom, you say that about all babies. You can’t tell who they look like until they’re walking!” Cade called out from the hallway.

  “Yeah, they all look wrinkled and fat, like little Sumo wrestlers!” Drew chimed in as everyone laughed.

  “I can’t tell if his eyes look blue or green in this light,” I whispered. I glanced up at Banton. He reached over with his hand and touched my face, smiling reassuringly. He knew what I was asking, and I knew he was unsure as well.

  “Well, you’ve named our baby girl. What are you going to name our grandson?” Uncle Lon asked as Aunt Sue put her head over on his shoulder. He said our grandson…like it was the proudest moment of his life.

  “Chandler insists on this one, but I’m still not sure.” Banton handed Elly to Aunt Sue, and then placed one hand under our son’s head and the other on my cheek. I looked up into his eyes as he smiled. He knew I’d made up my mind so he nodded.

  “Banton Matthew Gastaneau IV. I refuse to mess with tradition, and I think it’s a name worth aspiring to live up to. But since it’s such a mouthful for such a little boy, I think Matty will do just fine for now.” I watched Mr. Matt’s reaction, and he snapped his head up and grinned at me.

  “Banton Matthew and Ellyson… Marie?” Everett whispered Ellyson’s second name as his eyes watered. Matty and Elly…That’s beautiful, Bebe.” Everett smiled at me, adding his approval.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to t
ake the babies for just a little while. We want the pediatrician to check them, especially their lung function, just to be sure. We’ll bring them back to you as soon as we’re finished,” Dr. Lane assured us when he reached for Matty. I gave him up reluctantly as Aunt Sue handed Ellyson to Dr. Renault.

  “Let’s everyone come back into the camp-out area. We have food prepared, and we’ll get everyone settled in. There’s another storm moving through in a few minutes and Chandler needs to rest.” Aunt Sue herded everyone out of the room, except for Mr. Matt and Banton. Mr. Matt hesitated beside the bed for a moment and then leaned over, kissing me on the forehead.

  “Thank you, my sweet daughter. You have made me a, very happy grandfather today. We love you with all our hearts.” He raised back up, and the light from the lightening through the window made the tears in his eyes sparkle. Then he whispered softly, “You never gave in…Even when his mother and I gave up hope and accepted his death. You knew he was alive. You are truly his soul mate. I thank God every night in my prayers for sending you to my son.” The tears spilled over as he turned and touched Banton’s cheek and silently left the room.

  Banton turned to me after he shut the door. “Sweetheart, what was he talking about? What did he mean, you never gave in?” he asked as he sank down in the chair beside the bed.

  “Oh, I was just difficult…I…I still have a hard time, talking about that day,” I whispered as he took my hands in his. He lifted them to his lips, and pressed a kiss there.

  “What day, Andie?” he urged me to continue.

  “I was on the front porch with Constance and Claudia. We were playing with Ava Grace, swinging on the porch swing, waiting on news from you.” I took a deep breath. “A Navy Suburban drove up, and a chaplain walked up to the front porch and asked for Mrs. Gastaneau. He told us you and two other SEALs had been listed as missing, presumed dead. Everyone fell to pieces, Everett had to carry me upstairs, and John came over to try to help Everett hold us all together. Claudia called your parents, and when they arrived they tried to talk to me about making arrangements with their pastor, and to make plans for a memorial service. I picked that moment in time to be obstinate, to get really angry, and resigned myself that you were not dead. You were only missing, and I wasn’t having any talk about your death.”

 

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