by Carly Fall
Beverly’s Rebirth
by
Carly Fall
Copyright © 2013 Westward Publishing
All rights reserved.
Dear Reader,
I never had any intention of writing this novella.
However, I heard from many of you asking about Beverly and Hudson:
What will happen to Hudson with Beverly being fully human?
Will we get to see more of Beverly and Hudson and their baby?
How did the birth go? Where did she give birth?
This novella answers those questions that you wanted the answers to.
I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1
Hudson flipped on the radio to the oldies station. Hot Chocolate’s “I Believe in Miracles” came on, which made him smile, and he did a little dance around the kitchen. A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened and there stood his very pregnant mate, Beverly.
“I believe in miracles, where you from, you sexy thing . . .”
Oh, hell yeah, that was so true.
His miracle, Beverly, waddled toward him. She gave him a brief smile that didn’t quite light up her soft green eyes, her cheeks a little chubbier than they were nine months ago. Her blonde hair hung in soft waves around her shoulders. Dressed in a long, blue, button-down shirt and black sweatpants, her face glowed without makeup. She was the sexiest thing he had ever seen.
The past couple of months had been hard on her. Their baby kicked and moved endlessly within her belly, giving her very few good nights’ sleep. She had felt ill during the first few months of the pregnancy, but once the first trimester ended, she had felt great. Now they were into the last trimester, and she was back to feeling pretty crappy.
She had terrible heartburn, her body was achy, and she was exhausted. With each passing day, she seemed to be getting a little worse. Hudson hoped that this was not a forewarning of a hard birth.
They had visited three different obstetricians under false names, as they didn’t want a record of Beverly out there. She had pretty much fallen off the face of the Earth as far as everyone else was concerned, and now she called the Six Saviors’ world her home. All the doctors said that the baby was doing wonderfully. There hadn’t been any significant changes in Beverly’s blood work, except the anemia, and they had put her on iron pills for that.
None of the doctors had given thought, nor should they, that she was pregnant with a mixed-species baby. No one within the Six Saviors compound had any idea on what to do in these circumstances, because none of them had ever been around for a birth of a mixed-species baby.
Although his daughter, Abby, who was mated to his best friend and fellow SR44ian Noah, was a mixed-species baby, Hudson hadn’t been present for her gestation or birth, thanks to her mother, Iris. Yes, Iris had ceremoniously dumped his ass the second she had found out she was with his child.
For this pregnancy, Hudson had been around for every second of it, through the good and the bad. He held Beverly’s hair back as she vomited, then cooled her forehead with a damp cloth. He rubbed her feet and back when she asked, and volunteered to do it when she looked like she needed it. He had shed a tear or two the first time he felt the baby move, and he talked to the burgeoning belly a few times a day. Now they were playing the waiting game. Her due date was in two weeks and everyone was ready to meet the baby.
Hudson couldn’t wait meet his son. Or daughter.
He never thought he would have another child. During his whoring days, he had always been very careful to make sure that didn’t happen. But now, having a child with Beverly was the greatest gift he could ever have received. He truly felt blessed beyond what he deserved.
“Come here, beautiful,” Hudson said, spreading his arms wide. “How are you feeling?” He wrapped her in a bear hug. Her belly prevented her from giving him a proper embrace, but she snaked her arms around his waist the best she could.
“Okay. Sleepy.”
“Why don’t you go lay down?”
“Because I just got up!” She lifted her gaze and gave him a tired smile, her green eyes the color of ferns.
He started to sway to the music, and after a moment he spun her gently around the kitchen. Turning her slowly, he pulled her to him, so that her back was against his chest, and he laid his hands on her belly.
“Where you from, you sexy thing,” he growled into her ear, singing to the music.
She laughed, grabbed his hands, and leaned her head back against his chest. “I’m not feeling too sexy right now,” she said.
“Hmmm . . . that’s too bad. You may not be feeling very sexy, but to me, you are scorching hot,” he said, grinding his hips into her behind. “I mean, honey, you’ve got me on fire back here.”
“Oh, stop it,” she chastised, but she smiled.
Hudson nuzzled her neck, still swaying to the music, when Cohen came in.
“Hey, guys, get a room.”
“My kitchen, Cohen. And if I want to dance and tell my mate how bad she cranks me up, then I will.”
Beverly smacked his hand, and he kissed her flushed cheek.
Cohen rolled his eyes. “Are you cooking tonight, or am I on my own?”
Hudson, Beverly, and Cohen were the only three in the silo. Jovan and Talin had gone to Canada to follow up on a possible lead on Colonist activity, and Abby and Noah had decided to take a few days of R&R and took a trip to a resort in Tucson. Rayner and Faith were up in Flagstaff meeting with some of the Navajo elders from Faith’s Native American tribe. All had been waiting on pins and needles for the baby to arrive, but they finally decided they wouldn’t miss anything if they were gone for a day or two.
After much discussion, Beverly and Hudson had decided that Beverly would give birth at home. It was risky, but they felt that it was for the best. Abby had been born looking like a normal human, but there was a possibility of this baby coming out with glowing, yellow eyes. Even a good case of jaundice couldn’t explain that one away.
After a lot of research, Beverly had decided on a water birth, and they had hauled in a birthing pool down to the gym. Beverly, being an ex-doctor, had talked to Cohen about birthing procedures and things that could go wrong. Hudson had no idea what had been said as he had sat out on that little chat. The thought of Cohen seeing Beverly naked made his teeth clench so hard he felt like they would crack.
They had attended natural birthing classes together where Beverly learned different breathing techniques and self-hypnosis. Hudson quickly realized there wasn’t much for him to do except to be the cheerleader, the back rubber, and the comforter.
During one session, he’d struck up a conversation with another male who was waiting for kid number two.
“All this stuff they’re telling you about how it’s supposed to go? It doesn’t work that way. The only one who’s in charge is the baby. And all this quiet, natural bullshit this instructor is spewing? Forget it. Man, my wife cursed me a new one during the delivery of the first kid.”
Hudson couldn’t see his sweet Beverly cursing and screaming, especially at him, so he had dismissed that conversation.
Hudson felt like they were prepared.
“I’ll whip something up later,” Hudson said. “What do you feel like eating for dinner, Bev?”
She shrugged. “For some reason, your homemade chicken potpie sounds really good. And a peanut butter sandwich.”
“Seriously? Chicken potpie and a peanut butter sandwich?” Cohen asked with a hint of disgust crossing his face.
“If that’s what she wants, that’s what’s for dinner, Cohen.”
Cohen gave a brief smile.
“Sounds great. Can’t wait.” He turned and left.
Hudson turned Beverly so they were face to face. “Do you need a backrub, honey?”
Beverly smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
Hudson threw his arm over her shoulder and walked over to the elevator with Beverly tucked in next to him.
When the steel doors parted, they stepped in. Hudson kissed the top of Beverly’s head. “After your backrub, why don’t we see if we can get labor started?”
“The baby is due in two weeks, Hudson. We don’t want labor to start. And besides, how do you propose we do that?”
Hudson grinned. He had read in one of the many books they purchased that a good orgasm could get labor going, and frankly he was ready. He wanted to meet his kid. Now. He secretly hoped for a girl. Why, he didn’t know. It was probably some fucked-up transference he was projecting onto this baby because he missed out on Abby’s childhood.
“Well, let’s see.” He moved Beverly up against the elevator wall. “Spicy foods give you heartburn. You’ve been walking on the treadmill and outside. Let’s try sex. I’ve heard that it works wonderfully.”
Beverly laughed. “Hudson, we don’t want labor to start!”
He brought his lips to hers and let his hands wander over her breasts and down to her hips. “Well then, let’s make this a practice run, and we’ll keep trying until we get it right. You know what they say: If at first you don’t succeed, try again.”
Chapter 2
Beverly awoke from a deep sleep, her chest on fire and her bladder full.
Again.
Apparently, the chicken potpie and peanut butter sandwich hadn’t sat too well with the baby, and she had a really hot case of heartburn. She hiccupped, her throat on fire.
Rolling over, she thought about the upcoming arrival of Baby.
She felt they were ready. They had three different types of diapers because she had read online that every mother had their own preference, and she wouldn’t know what diapers she liked until she tried them. They had formula in case her and Baby didn’t do well with breastfeeding. Crib? Check. Swaddling blankets? Yes. The baby had more cute clothing than it could ever wear. Bouncy chair, Baby Bjorn, stroller, car seat . . . they had everything except the baby.
The baby. If someone had told her a year ago that she would be expecting, she would have laughed in their face.
When she first found out she was pregnant, she was shocked. She remembered sitting in her small living room staring at the stick that read “pregnant,” as clear as the rain fell from the winter Oregon skies. She didn’t know how long she sat there looking at the stick, listening to the patter of the rain on the roof. What should she do? Abortion went against every fiber of her body; she wanted the baby. But did she do it alone, or did she go back to Hudson? And then there was the little fact that Hudson wasn’t human. Would she give birth to an SR44ian baby or a human baby? Her indecision lasted into the early evening hours. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the pouring rain that hadn’t stopped in a week.
She knew in her heart that she loved Hudson, but did he want to be a father? He had told her how much he hated that he missed Abby’s childhood. As she had pictured his face for the millionth time since she’d left, she knew she needed to tell him that she carried his child, and what they decided to do once the knowledge was laid out on the table . . . she would have to see about that. As she had stood at the window and made her decision, she felt anxious at the thought of seeing Hudson again, and her addiction reared his ugly head. She had wanted a pill to ease her anxiety. As she met her eyes in the reflection of the window and touched her stomach, she took a deep breath and calmed the craving.
As she weighed her options one last time, she came to a swift conclusion. And before she could change her mind, she had raced to her bedroom and threw clothes into her suitcase.
She was out the door in twenty minutes.
After she had told Hudson she was pregnant, he immediately began planning their mating ceremony. It had been a simple, yet elegant affair. SR44 mating ceremonies were always held when all of the planets’ moons were full, but they made due with Earth’s one moon and held it outside under the glow of the full moon. The ceremony was always colored in the hue of the female, but since Beverly was fully human, they had gone with green, the color of her eyes. Her, Abby, and Faith had shopped relentlessly online, buying fifteen dresses before they found one that Beverly liked. It was a light green silky dress with long sleeves. When they were mated, she was just starting to show, and it was difficult finding one that wasn’t too tight.
“It’s like it was made for you,” Abby had said as Beverly modeled the dress.
“It’s perfect, Beverly,” Faith had said.
Beverly had stepped out of the silo to find everyone standing in a circle around Hudson, all wearing shades of green. Surrounding them were green candles perched upon silver candelabras.
The ceremony had been beautiful, and her and Hudson had actually taken a three-day honeymoon down to Mexico, which made her blush when she thought of the romance.
They had settled into a good life full of love and respect. Both were excited about their creation. One day, Hudson came back to the silo with a stack of books on birthing, newborns, and parenting. They’d read all of them cover-to-cover and discussed every aspect of pregnancy, childbirth, and how they would raise their child. They were in agreement on most things, except the actual birth.
That had taken many discussions to reach an understanding.
The baby kicked, and Beverly got up and crossed the room, heading for the bathroom, her eye on the glow of the nightlight.
Shutting the door behind her so that the light wouldn’t wake Hudson, she sighed heavily. “I can’t wait to meet you, Baby,” she whispered to her stomach.
They had declined to know the sex of the baby, opting for the surprise. Therefore, they didn’t have a name yet either. They had decided they would meet the baby and then give him or her a name.
Beverly was fine with that, but she felt in her soul that it was a boy. She didn’t know how she knew, but she just did. Besides, she was carrying out in front, and she had read that women tended to carry that way when pregnant with a boy.
She kept thinking about boy names as well. William? James? Timothy? So many choices, but she knew when she met the baby the perfect name would come.
When she rubbed her hand over her belly, tears came to her eyes. After the car accident, she had been told that she probably wouldn’t be able to conceive, but here she was, waiting for the birth of her baby. Yes, it had been a shock at first, as she had never even contemplated being a mother after the accident, but now . . . she was so ready and felt her maternal instincts firing on all cylinders.
She would never admit it to another, but her patience was wearing thin. The pregnancy had been hard on her physically, and she was ready to be done with it.
As she stared at her tired face in the mirror, she had to admit she was a little afraid as well, and on a couple of different levels. First, would she make a descent mother? Would her addictive tendencies be passed on to her baby? Would her baby love her despite her faults?
She thought of her own mother who had committed suicide. Although Beverly had been an adult when it happened, she couldn’t help but feel that her mother had abandoned her, and she made silent promises to her baby that she wouldn’t abandon him or her in any way, shape, or form.
Besides all of her personal self-doubts, she worried about the delivery as well. She didn’t think it was a good idea to give birth in a hospital, but they couldn’t exactly bring in a midwife either. Bringing in an outsider was forbidden, and with good reason. No one could find out that the Six Saviors were not human, and if someone screwed up and the midwife were to see their eyes glowing . . . or if the baby came out with glowing, yellow eyes . . . yes, that would be a signal that something was amiss.
Hudson and Beverly had also discussed renting a house or apart
ment and having a midwife there to deliver the baby, or Beverly going to the hospital by herself or with Faith and Abby when it was time. It always came back to the same thing: The baby could come out with glowing yellow eyes, and she wanted Hudson there. She also wanted to be surrounded by her family—the Six Saviors and their mates.
So a homebirth it was.
She had talked to Cohen at length about the birth. At first he had been quite uncomfortable with it, but when he explained how a female gave birth on SR44, she understood why.
Gestation was three years. Beverly had almost fallen over when she heard that, but SR44ian women lived to be around two thousand years old, so three years was nothing but a blink of an eye.
At the exact three-year mark when it was time for the birth, the family gathered, the healer said an incantation, and the baby was produced through what would be the equivalent of the female’s mouth. She simply stood, and small wisps of smoke emerged from her, forming a ball in her arms. Presto! Baby was born. No long hours of labor, no blood, no pain.
“You know Hudson’s going to slit my neck if I see you naked,” Cohen had said. “Especially if I have to look . . . up there,” he said, turning his eyes away and waving his hand toward Beverly’s thighs.
Beverly had laughed. “I’ll take care of Hudson. Just study what needs to be done, what can go wrong, and we’ll get through this together.”
She was a doctor, and she knew what to expect. But in this case she was also the patient, and she only hoped that Cohen would get over his heebie-jeebies and his imagined threat of Hudson, because she would need someone looking over her.
A few months ago, she had put away her maternal instincts and gone into full physician mode. She had stood in the gym downstairs, looking over the small corner where she would give birth as if it were a hospital setting, and decided what would be needed if things didn’t go as planned.
She brought in a hospital bed, a lot of blankets, a changing table for the baby, and an incubator in case the baby needed one. Swallowing her worst fears, she brought in blood transfusion equipment and taught Cohen how to use it. There was a blood pressure cuff, needles full of antibiotics, and pain medicine . . .