Abi and the Boy She Loves

by Kelsie Stelting

  She stood still though, her eyes full of fear. “Abi, I’m two weeks early.”

  I put my hands on her shoulders. “She’s right on time. It will be okay.”

  With a nod, she hurried from the bathroom, and I walked back to the reception, trying to hide the pounding of my heart in my chest. I found Frank at the punch table, about to pour himself a glass.

  “Stormy’s going into labor,” I whispered in Frank’s ear, and his entire face went white.

  He set down his drink. “Where is she?”

  “My car.” I told him where it was parked. “I’m going to get her mom. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “She has to deliver in Austin,” he said.

  “We’ll meet you there then.” Just as he was about to walk away, I grabbed his arm and smiled. “Congratulations.”

  He gave me a grin before hurrying away.

  I found Stormy’s mom next, and the second I told her, her eyes lit with excitement. “Stormy’s having her baby.”

  Feeling her giddiness, I nodded. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot. I just have to tell Skye first.”

  She agreed, and I went straight to Skye and Andrew where they spun slow circles on the dance floor. I hurriedly told them the news. “I’m sorry I have to go, but congratulations. Really, I’m so happy for you two.”

  “Hold up,” Skye said, stopping me.

  “What?” I asked, turning back. I hoped she wasn’t upset.

  She looked the opposite. “There’s no way we’re not going to be there.”

  “It’s your wedding,” I said.

  She met Andrew’s eyes, and he walked straight for the DJ’s stand. After taking the microphone, he said, “Sorry, folks, but I’ve got to get my girl home. Enjoy the dance. I’ll see you later!”

  Applause sounded as our group of friends fled the reception and started toward the parking lot. Wedding or not, this baby was coming.

  When we finally got inside the hospital, they had already brought Stormy to the delivery room.

  Andrew and Skye went to the waiting room while Stormy’s mom and I headed for the maternity ward. I wanted to rush inside Stormy’s room, where I could hear her crying on the other side of the door, but a nurse blocked us.

  “Two people at a time,” she said.

  Stormy’s mom went in first, and after a long moment, she came back out. “Take care of my girl,” she whispered and hugged me tight.

  “I will,” I promised.

  After she let me go, I rushed to Stormy’s side and took her hand. “What’s going on?”

  “My blood pressure’s too high. The baby’s breech. They’re thinking about doing a cesarean, but my doctor isn’t here yet.”

  I gripped her hand harder. “What can I do?”

  She clenched her teeth and breathed deep. This must have been a contraction.

  Frank squeezed her other hand, agony clear on his face. He hated seeing her in pain. His expression only evened when she loosened her grip and breathed normally again.

  “You’re doing enough,” she finally said, weak. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  I looked down at our hands. Hers were paler than her usual olive tint, but her fingernails stood out with a pretty red shade of polish.

  What seemed like hours passed just like that. Riding out contractions together while nurses came in and out, updating us on the status of Stormy’s blood pressure and dilation.

  “I can’t just lie here forever,” she announced after the latest check.

  Frank sat up in his chair. “You’ll get to leave once we have the baby.”

  Stormy rolled her eyes. “First of all, I’ll be the one having the baby. Second, I meant right now. What am I supposed to do? Twiddle my thumbs? Play mercy with Abi?”

  I shrugged. “It wouldn’t feel right fighting a pregnant lady.”

  “See?” She gestured at me. “Boring. What should we do?”

  An impish grin covered Frank’s face. “Want to streak again? I can roll this bed around a hell of a lot easier than I could carry that air mattress.”

  “God no,” she laughed. “All the staff would pass out before they needed to deliver the baby.”

  “Exactly,” I added. “And it would be disgraceful to streak in a hospital. That’s just something we do over dead bodies, right?”

  Stormy laughed, then clutched my arm. “You’re going to make me pee my pants.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Frank, I think I found our game.”

  His eyebrow quirked. “See who can make her pee the bed first?”

  “I hate you,” she said, barely hiding her smile.

  “Hey, Frank,” I said. “What’s the difference between a pregnant lady and a lightbulb?”

  Stormy dragged her hand over her face.

  “I don’t know, Abi. What is it?” Frank asked, the perfect partner in crime.

  “You can unscrew a lightbulb.”

  He guffawed while Stormy gave me a well-humored glare. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

  “Let me try,” Frank said. “There was a priest, a rabbi, and a—”

  A woman in the doorway wearing hospital scrubs cleared her throat, smiling. “I hate to interrupt the punchline, but I think it’s time for this baby to come.”

  I moved out of the way so she could talk with Stormy. I picked up pieces of the conversation, but most of it went over my head. I understood the important parts though. Stormy would have a C-section with one guest in the operating room, meaning I would have to wait with the others.

  While the doctor left to the operating room and nurses came in to move her, I went to Stormy’s side and held her hand. In her hospital bed, surrounded by white and mint-green bedding, Stormy looked so small, even with her bump creating a mound under the blankets. Her eyes met mine, wide, afraid.

  I wanted to comfort her, but I was having a hard time doing it without breaking down. I was scared too. For her and the baby.

  “Do you remember your first day in Woodman?” she asked.

  Didn’t we have more important things to do than walk down memory lane? But I humored her. “What about it?”

  “I probably came on a little strong.”

  I snorted. “Understatement of the century.”

  A smile crossed her face. “Yeah, well...I’m glad you came. Because if you hadn’t fallen for Jon and the guys hadn’t told me what an ass I was being, I wouldn’t have stopped chasing Jon and let Frank in.”

  Frank’s eyes met mine, and a corner of his lips lifted. An unspoken thank you.

  “And look at us now,” Stormy said, turning her eyes lovingly on him before looking back to me. “We’re having a baby. You’re going to be the godmother. Life is so different.”

  An ache stabbed at my chest. Normally, Stormy would have been the first person I went to about my grandma’s surprise ambush and how much I still missed Jon, but I couldn’t tell her right now. This was her night. My godchild’s night.

  She squeezed my hand, her eyes knowing what I couldn’t bring myself to say. “It’s crazy how things work out.”

  I wiped at my eyes and blinked quickly. “You’re going to do great,” I said, my voice thick. Then I met Frank’s eyes. “Frank’s here for you, and your mom and I will be right outside.” I brushed her hair back. “I can’t wait to meet your baby.”

  She managed a smile, and that was the last I saw of her before they wheeled her bed out of the room.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  I found her mom in the waiting room, tapping into her phone. Stormy’s stepdad sat with her, along with all of our friends in their wedding attire.

  Her mom stood up. “How is she? The baby’s not here yet, is she?”

  I shook my head. “They’re taking her back for a C-section.” I repeated all the medical jargon I’d heard the doctor tell Stormy, thinking it would probably mean more to an actual mom than me.

  She nodded, a worried look still on her face. She looked so much li
ke Stormy with her eyebrows furrowed like that.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked. “Coffee? Water? Food?” Moving had to be better than sitting here, waiting for answers.

  “Good luck.” Her husband folded his arms across his chest. “She won’t let me help at all.”

  With a quick shake of her head and an apologetic smile, she said, “I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down anyway.”

  I understood. Without Stormy’s reassurance, I would have been falling apart right now. I had no idea what Stormy would do if the baby wasn’t okay. What I’d do if Stormy wasn’t.

  I dropped into the open seat next to Skye. She took my hand and held it on her lap. I squeezed it back.

  “How are you doing, Abi?” she asked quietly. “I saw Jon there.”

  I couldn’t lie. But I also couldn’t wallow. I needed to be here for Stormy. “I’ve had better days. But I don’t want to talk about me.” I turned to Stormy’s mom. “How long does a cesarean usually take? I want to see this baby!”

  Excitement rose to the surface of her face. “Me too. I think it should be an hour, tops, once they get started.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. “What time did I come out here?”

  “Around eight, I think.”

  The minute hand was somewhere around the thirty mark. “Thirty more minutes?”

  She nodded. “Thirty more minutes and I’ll be a grandma.”

  Her husband rubbed her back. “You’re going to spoil that baby rotten.”

  “Damn straight.” Then she leaned over and gave him a kiss.

  I smiled at the two of them. They were sweet. So was the couple on my other side. Now I knew why Roberto complained so much about being surrounded by couples. I had to move, to get the adrenaline and pain out of my system.

  “I’ll be back,” I said.

  Evan got up and walked with me. After we got out of hearing distance, he said, “It’s tense in there.”

  I nodded, even though that wasn’t why I needed to leave.

  “You looked beautiful today,” he said.

  I managed a smile and nodded at his suit. “You clean up nice yourself.”

  He pulled at his lapels. “I do, don’t I?”

  A small laugh escaped my chest. I felt lighter already. “I needed to get some air.”

  He nodded, hearing the words I didn’t say, and put his arm around me. We walked the halls, my heels’ clack against the tile echoing off the walls, until it got closer to an hour. We got back to the waiting room just in time to see Frank in a surgical gown and a face mask around his neck saying, “Violeta is here. Five pounds, six ounces, and seventeen inches long.”

  Tears pooled in Stormy’s mom’s eyes. “A little girl.”

  “Congratulations, man,” Evan said.

  “Is she healthy?” I asked. “Is Stormy okay?”

  “Yes and yes,” Frank said. “They’re in recovery now if you’d like to see them.”

  Stormy’s mom and I were past him before he even finished his sentence.

  “It’s that way!” he called behind us.

  After we changed directions, we finally found the recovery room where a nurse was working with the tiniest baby I’d ever seen.

  Stormy’s mom went right to her daughter, while I ventured toward the baby, trying to understand how my heart could immediately love something so small that looked exactly like Frank.

  I wiped at my face and found moisture there. “Oh, Stormy,” I said. “She’s precious.”

  “Just like her mom,” Stormy’s mother said.

  The nurse finished and wrapped Violeta up. “Would you like to hold her?”

  I looked to Stormy for permission, and she nodded.

  “Yes,” I said, still unsure. “Will I break her?”

  The nurse chuckled. “You’ll do fine.” She transferred the bundle to my arms.

  Violeta was incredibly light, even swaddled in blankets. Her eyes were closed, but I could hear her breathing along with the monitors in the room.

  “Hi, precious girl,” I breathed. “I’m your godmother, Abi, and I’m here for you no matter what.” I turned to Stormy so I could look at her. “You know your mom, she’s my best friend. You are going to love being her daughter. She’s the best person I know.” My throat constricted. “I wouldn’t be here without her, and I’ll never be thankful enough to know her.”

  I met Stormy’s eyes and saw they were just as wet as mine. “I love you,” I mouthed to her and passed Violeta to her grandmother.

  I was just a part of her story, and she was an uncharacteristically bright part of mine.

  I left the room to give someone else a turn and walked right into the last person I’d expected to see.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  I stared at Jon. That was I all I could do.

  He glanced around us, at our friends trying to hide their intrigue. “Can we talk?”

  My mouth worked, but no words came out.

  “Come on.” He took my hand, such a familiar gesture that memories and warmth and hurt and loss came flooding back with all the force of a tidal wave, ready to sweep me under the surface and bury me forever.

  Wordlessly, I followed him, was swept away, until we reached an empty hallway with abandoned beds lining the hall.

  Finally, I found my vocal cords. “Jon, what are you doing here?”

  He held my hand with both of his, meeting my eyes and then looking down. His hair fell into his eyes, and he swept it to the side.

  “Abi, I...” His words failed him just as mine had earlier, and he stepped back, raking his hands through his hair. “God, I’ve planned what I would say, I swear I have, but...” He looked at me, then turned away.

  I reached out to him and took his hand. “Then let me.”

  His eyes found mine, green, hurting, scared. “I didn’t want it to be this way. It was going to be better, but then you left the reception, and I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you walk away again.”

  I pressed a finger to his lips. “Can I?”

  He nodded but reached up and held my hand.

  I melted into the warmth, into his strength, because I needed it.

  “Jon, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “I am. I leaned on you, depended on you, needed you to be my rock. I never knew how hard it was to be that for someone until...” I glanced at his leg, brace-free but not without its wounds. “I’ve thought about it, you, every single day. About how I could have done better, supported you better, but I’m just as lost as I was then.”

  He held my hands to his chest. I felt the rising and falling of his breath. Knew his heart lay right under the spot where my hands touched his shirt.

  “Maybe...” He paused. “Maybe it’s like the pastor said. That we needed to choose each other. And I chose the pain. But I’m not going to do that anymore.”

  I blinked up at him. “What are you saying?”

  “Abi, I’m saying I’m ready. You deserved a better man than I could be, and I worked, God, I’ve worked to be that man. I’ve been in counseling. I focused on my grades, doubled down on PT. I’m ready, but that doesn’t matter if you’re not ready to give me another chance. I know I don’t deserve it.”

  “You don’t,” I agreed, tears flooding my eyes. “You have no idea how much you hurt me. But it doesn’t matter what you deserve, because I want you. I want you every day, through every heartache, through every test and trial and wedding reception interrupted by my best friend’s baby.” I let out a watery laugh, and he wiped at my eyes.

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked.

  “Jon.” I reached up and held his face in my hands. “Will you marry me?”

  He crushed me to his chest, faster than I could have ever imagined, holding me tight like he could make up for the days, weeks, and months we’d missed each other. “Yes,” he said. And he held me even tighter.

  But I needed even more of him. I found his li
ps with mine and kissed every breath of mine into his. Every cell of mine into his. Because I was his. From the first day I’d met him. From the first time I’d learned I couldn’t live without him. From now until forever.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Three Months Later

  I started down the aisle holding a simple, blush-colored bouquet. Plenty of people filled the chairs at the end—friends, family, a few people I didn’t even recognize. I kept my eyes down on the grass of the Scollers’ back lawn as I walked. I’d hate to trip and embarrass myself.

  When I reached the end and finally looked up, Jorge smiled at me. I returned a reassuring grin of my own before turning to see my grandma. She was stunning in a light blue suit, holding a bouquet of her own. Her hair curled softly around her cheeks, loose and down instead of up in its usual bun. At first, she smiled at the crowd around her, like she was embarrassed they had all come for her, but then she only had eyes for Jorge.

  His shoulders straightened and his eyes watered as she walked toward him, full of pride and emotion I couldn’t quite describe. Grandma’s lips pulled in a trembling smile, and the expression brought tears to my own eyes. This was her happily ever after, all over again.

  I might have suffered my own personal tragedy, but Grandma hadn’t been let off easy. Between losing her husband, having her daughter put in jail, and then taking on her granddaughter, I admired how strong she’d been through it all. That she’d still been soft enough to open hear heart to love.

  I glanced at Jon where he sat with his parents in the front row. We’d finally learned to do the same, to love each other and be soft through the hard times.

  When Grandma reached me, she hugged me and handed me her bouquet. I held both and listened as the ceremony began. It was different. Unlike Skye and Andrew, who’d just been starting their journey, Grandma and Jorge knew what it meant to be married. Knew how to love wholly and commit to another person.

  “The question,” the preacher said, “is if you can do it again. If you’ll be able to join fully to one another in what is left of this amazing life, and love like there’s no time left. You both know we’re not promised anything beyond today. Will you make it count?”