“Oh, no, you don’t,” Barbara said. “Emma has no business being at home alone. If this sleet keeps up, the phone’ll go out and maybe the lights.” She glanced at Emma, then she frowned at Emma. “You all right?”
Emma wriggled in her chair. “Some more of those pesky Braxton-Hicks contractions my doctor warned me about. I’m not due for another week. Everybody tells me first babies are usually late. I hope this one is on time.”
“These twinges—do you have them often?” Barbara asked.
“A couple of days ago Seth actually drove me to the hospital because I was complaining. We were sure this was it, but it wasn’t. They kept me sitting in the waiting room for an hour before they checked me and sent me home. I’m apparently not sufficiently effaced or dilated or something.”
“That can happen fast.”
“Let’s hope. I was so tired I didn’t pay attention. I fell into bed once we got home.”
Emma’s phone rang. She clicked it on speaker. “Seth? Where on earth are you? You missed dinner.”
“Sorry, hon. I’m going to miss more than dinner. The ice is building up faster than predicted. I was following one of the salt trucks back to you, but we just ran up on a tree across the road. Have to wait for one of the big road graders to shove it out of the way. In the meantime, Earl and I are helping the Staties get folks that have spun out back on the road. My supply of cat litter is almost used up.”
“Should I get Stephen to take me home?”
“No!” He came as close to shouting as Seth ever did. “You’re warm, you’re safe, you’ve got company. Ask Barbara if you can spend the night.”
“I was planning on it,” Barbara called over Emma’s shoulder. She pointed at Stephen and mouthed, You, too. Then at the couch.
“How bad is it?” Stephen asked.
“Right now it’s nasty. The weather guys say the wind should switch to the southwest by morning and turn this junk to rain. In the meantime, it’s a skating rink. Barbara? You there?”
“Yes, Seth.”
“Your generator in working order?”
“Of course. I have plenty of diesel, plenty of wood for the fireplace. We should be good to go.”
“Please keep checking in.” Emma sounded plaintive. “I’ll worry myself sick until you show up.”
“As long as we have phone service, I’ll keep calling, but don’t worry about me. The tires on this SUV are made for this stuff. I love you. Look after Kicks for me.”
“I love you, too.” She sounded weepy.
Barbara caught Stephen’s eye. “Emma, you still having those fake contractions?”
“Don’t fuss. I’m going to the bathroom.”
The minute the bathroom door shut behind Emma, Barbara said, “Call me an alarmist, but I am not sure she’s having fake contractions.”
“She’s having real contractions? My God, call an ambulance.”
“With a tree across the road? Besides, I’m probably wrong.”
“Barbara, can you come here please?” Emma called from the bathroom.
Barbara went.
“I’m afraid I made a mess,” Emma said. “I leaked all over the floor.”
“No problemo.” Barbara dropped two towels onto the floor to sop up the moisture. “I’ll clean it up in a bit.” She took a deep breath and said soothingly, “Maybe a small problem. Your water has broken. You’re in labor.”
“I am not! I can’t be. I’m not due yet.”
“Close enough. Kicks is impatient. Remember, when you had the skunks, I told you animals pick the worst possible weather to deliver their babies, because the predators aren’t out? This is the human equivalent.”
“I can’t have the baby. Seth’s not here. Stephen will have to drive me to the hospital right now.”
“The road’s blocked, remember? I’ll call 911 and tell them what’s happening. They’ll come as soon as they can.”
“What do we do in the meantime? Play bridge?”
“We start by getting you dry and into my bed. Then I’ll check how far along you are...”
Emma bent over and grabbed her belly. After a minute or so she relaxed. “Ow! That hurt!”
“Labor does hurt.”
“You keep drugs. I want some.”
“Horse drugs. I am an animal doctor.”
“I am an animal.”
“Not in the eyes of the United States government. I can’t give you a thing except aspirin, and not much of that. You and Seth took the baby-prep classes, didn’t you?”
“For all the good he’s doing,” she snarled. “Pulling stupid people off the ice. Why isn’t he here to take me to the hospital?”
“Hold my hand and pant. Tell me when it passes, so we can get you situated. We should have plenty of time between contractions. This is early days.”
“How long do I have to put up with this? And how did I get myself into this pickle?”
“Barbara?” Stephen’s voice came from outside the bathroom door. “Is everything okay?”
“No, it is bloody well not!” Emma yelled. “Go away you—you man!
“Uh-oh. Barbara, am I hearing what I think I’m hearing?”
“Yes, Stephen, the dread and dangerous woman in labor. Open the door and help me get her into my bed, but first, put a thick layer of newspapers on the mattress.”
“Newspapers?”
“Just do it. They’re stacked by the fireplace.”
“Coming right up.”
Emma had another contraction when they settled her in bed. “Pant,” Barbara said. “Don’t push—pant.”
As Emma started to huff like a locomotive engine, Barbara signaled to Stephen to join her in the hall.
“That was less than twelve minutes from the last one,” Barbara whispered. “If she keeps that up, she’ll deliver before the ambulance can get here, even if the road is clear. I was in labor for twenty-six hours with both of mine. She’s not going to take two.”
“What do I do? Boil water?”
“Remember you said you were experienced with cleaning up messes?”
He nodded.
“Emma made a big one. The cleaning supplies are in the linen cupboard in the bathroom. Could you see what you can do?”
“Of course.”
“I keep an emergency bag in the hall closet. Bring it to me, please.
“You can’t deliver a baby.”
“I pray I won’t have to.” She took his hand. “Stephen, I’m scared. She could hemorrhage, the baby could be breach or not breathing—oh, why on earth did I invite her to dinner?”
“You were doing a good deed for a tired pregnant lady who had days before she delivered. She could be sitting alone in a house with no husband, no heat and possibly no cell phone. I’ll get your bag, call 911 again, try to get ahold of Seth—no, maybe not Seth. He might land in a ditch and kill himself trying to get here.”
“Then come back and help me. Please.”
As he turned away, she whispered to him, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Back in the bedroom, Barbara checked Emma’s state and reported that she seemed to be progressing normally. But fast.
“This is normal? For who? An elephant? Bowling balls?” Emma snarled.
* * *
STEPHEN STOOD BACK in the shadows, where Emma couldn’t see him to cuss him. He tried Seth despite his concern. He deserved to know what was happening. Voice mail. The landline was out, but the cell towers seemed to be working. The lights stayed on thanks to the good offices of Barbara’s giant generator that came on automatically if the central power went off.
Barbara said softly to Stephen, “I think she’s transitioning. With the next contraction, she’ll start to push.”
“Can’t you stop her?”
“No more than I could stop a freight train with
a hundred cars attached. With luck, all I have to do is rotate the baby’s shoulders and stand by to catch.”
“Ugghhh!” Emma shrieked.
“Here we go,” Barbara said.
Behind her, the bedroom door opened and Seth loomed out of the shadows.
“You scared me half to death!” Barbara said. “Get out of the way. You’re filthy.”
“Oh, God, Em, are you all right?”
“Do I look all right?” Emma made a noise that sent Seth back to the corner beside Stephen.
“Whatever you do, don’t faint,” Stephen said. “Sit down or go into the hall, but stay out of the way.”
“Come on, Emma, you’re doing great,” Barbara coaxed.
Seth gulped and fled to the hall. Stephen followed. Though he had been there for the births of his girls, he had been out of the action. At the time, he wished he’d been on the polar ice cap or the middle of Tasmania. He considered himself a coward for getting out of Barbara’s bedroom, but he and Seth were the most useless beings on the planet.
Both men closed their eyes and leaned against the wall at the next sound. Not a shout, not a scream—it was something primal, like a tiger or a bear.
Then silence. The two men stared into one another’s eyes and each held their breath.
Then came what Stephen considered the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Actually, the third most beautiful. Anne and Elaine had given out the first two.
He opened the door a hair and peered in. Barbara was continuing to work on Emma. On her breast, wrapped in a towel, a naked human child mewled softly like a kitten.
Stephen had seen that same radiance on Nina’s face when she saw her babies for the first time. Instant love. A chain that would never be broken. He had felt it, too. Tonight, he felt tears on his cheeks. He stole in far enough to lay his hand on Barbara’s bent head. She nuzzled against it and whispered, “How about that?”
She sat up straight. “Now, go away. I’ve got an afterbirth to deal with,” Barbara said. “Tell Seth to give me a few minutes, then I’ll introduce him to his daughter.”
Suddenly, the room was flooded with revolving colored lights and pierced by sirens.
Barbara lifted her eyes. “Now they show up. Just like a man. Leave us to do the chores and then come claim all the credit.”
As a precaution, the ambulance took Emma and Seth off to the small Williamston hospital to be checked out, although one of the responding EMTs congratulated Barbara before they drove away. “Nice midwifin’, ma’am. She was lucky you was here. Mama and baby look to be in real good shape. Sorry we didn’t get here sooner, but she was better off having that baby here instead of in the ambulance on the ice.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
AFTER EMMA’S CORTEGE left for the hospital, Stephen cracked the bottle of champagne he had stashed in Barbara’s refrigerator. It had originally been intended to celebrate their engagement, but this took precedence. They toasted Emma, Seth and Miss Kicks, for want of a better name. Stephen didn’t realize how big a toll the delivery had taken on Barbara until she fell asleep on his shoulder.
Not one delivery, actually, but two—mare and mama. He thanked God that Emma had gone through a fast, uncomplicated delivery. He was also glad that Nina had chosen the hospital route. Oh, he’d heard all the stuff about delivering at home being best, but he had felt that the less chance he had of losing someone he loved, the better. He’d finally convinced her.
He swung Barbara around so that her feet were on the sofa, covered her with the tartan wool blanket from the recliner and went to the kitchen to make coffee and find something to fix for breakfast.
He had made a decision tonight. No more waiting for marriage. Barbara would accuse him of making decisions without consulting her again, but he considered it persuading. He was good at persuading, as his students could attest. He sat at the dining-room table, pulled out his notepad and began to make notes. Until his head hit the table with a resounding clunk. Then he moved to the recliner and slept immediately.
He awoke when he heard the shower running in the morning.
He checked his notes. It would work, his entire scheme. He fixed coffee for both of them, and wished he’d brought a toothbrush, a razor and some clean clothes to Barbara’s the night before.
Tonight, he would do so. If all went well. It had to. It was the right thing to do and the perfect time to do it. Surely, he could convince her of that.
When she came out, she looked as fresh as though she’d slept all winter. God, he loved her!
He handed her a cup of coffee, then took it away again before she threw it across the room, which she well might.
“Let’s get married,” he said.
“What? No. Not now, maybe not ever.”
“Maybe’s better than absolutely. I mean, let’s get married today, right now.”
“Impossible. No.”
“It’s not impossible. We can do it. We drive to Mississippi, pick up a license at the courthouse in Holly Springs, then my friend Walt can perform the ceremony at his church. He’s an Episcopal priest. We’ll be together for our first Christmas.”
“Listen to yourself. Am I supposed to salute, say ‘yes, sir,’ and drive off into the sunset with you? Marrying is a big deal. We’re not eloping teenagers being chased by Daddy with his shotgun loaded.”
“Indeed, we are not. If you prefer, we could fly to Vegas, get married at one of those wedding chapels this afternoon, spend our first night in the fanciest bridal suite we can reserve, drink champagne and phone the children afterward. There are still seats on the afternoon plane and room at the Bellagio...”
“You checked? Tell me you didn’t actually make reservations.”
“Of course not, but I wanted to be sure it would work out, if that’s what you wanted.”
“What I wanted? Vegas? Really? What do we do for rings? Witnesses? What do I wear? Clean jeans? Will polishing my paddock boots turn our wedding into a formal affair? What on earth were you thinking?”
“That we’re wasting our lives apart. Why miss even a single day?” He inhaled a deep breath, then took her hands. “Do you love me?”
She pulled away her hands. “I’ve told you I love you.”
“Now, my next question. Do you want to marry me?”
“Our families aren’t even reconciled to our being what you call an item. If we ran off and got married, we could start a feud. I could lose my children. You could lose yours and your grandchildren when and if you have them. We could split our families into warring factions. What is the rush?”
“When we’re married, our families will come together, accept the situation.”
“You can’t know that. I don’t want either of us to lose people we love—I want us to gain them together.”
“And me? Do you still want to gain me?”
* * *
HIS VOICE SOUNDED TIGHT, as though he was fighting to keep his temper.
Barbara certainly was.
“I don’t know any longer, Stephen. I do know I’m worn out with being blindsided by the wonderful plans you make for our lives without bothering to find out what I want. Have you always been a control freak, or have you turned into one since you met me?”
“I’m not a control freak. I want to take some of the burden off your shoulders.”
“That’s not what you’ve done. You have been trying to run my life, make me happy the way you want to make me happy. Never mind what I want.”
“You want to be miserable?” he snapped.
“No, but I don’t want to be goaded and pressured and second-guessed. If that’s the sort of wife you want, find somebody else.”
“You don’t mean that. We love each other.”
“Love alone is not good enough. Ever hear of respect?”
“Of course I respect you. What do you want
from me?” He drove his hands through his short hair and turned his back on her.
“Look at me, Stephen. This is important.”
He swiveled to face her but kept his fists in his pockets.
“Please stop acting like a one-man show! Stop making plans without discussing them with me first, stop making deals and setting up projects then standing back and expecting me to applaud. No more ‘ta-da’ moments. Ask me, Stephen, don’t tell me. Big surprise—I’ve been making my own choices with a pretty high success rate for a long time.” She could feel the tears streaming down her face. Not fair. Stephen wasn’t crying. He looked as though he wanted to throw something or punch a wall.
She wanted to throw her arms around him and say, “There, there. It’s all right.” She didn’t, because it wasn’t. She held her ground, tears and all.
She felt sure he’d walk out. She could tell he was considering it.
He huffed like that bull at the fair getting ready to gore something. She’d never seen him angry before.
She waited for the explosion.
He stalked around the room. Once he headed for the front door, then turned and came back. Finally, he seemed to get hold of his emotions. The muscles in his shoulders loosened. He sank onto the couch and dropped his head in his hands. “That’s not what I intended. I never saw my suggestions...”
She laughed. “Suggestions? How was the flight cage a suggestion?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“It was that, all right. All I’m asking is that we work out solutions together, not Stephen presents and I accept.”
“I like my ‘ta-da’ moments. I like presenting the people I love with something they want and don’t have. Making their lives better.”
“What you want them to have, you mean. Somehow the choices always turn out to be what you want. I’ve been alone too long. Maybe I’m better off staying that way.”
He was on his feet in an instant. “No, you’re not and neither am I. Before I met you, I figured I would spend the rest of my life alone, doing the same things with the same people. I was lonely and knew I would stay that way. Nothing in my life fulfilled me or even interested me much. Then I met you, and thanks to Orville, I got dragged into your life. You were a new world, right from the beginning. I watched you fight for Orville, and I thought, she makes me care about something other than my own grief.”
Tennessee Vet Page 20
