Al Trunk Mahoney, Defensive Line

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Al Trunk Mahoney, Defensive Line Page 5

by Jean C. Joachim


  Lauren took a fast shower, not wishing to leave Chip unattended for more than five minutes. When she finished dressing, she waddled into his room where he was building with wooden blocks. He’d stack two or three blocks then throw one and knock them down.

  She eased down into the rocker and watched him play until the doorbell drew her attention. It took her a while to get downstairs, but she managed to arrive before Amy gave up and left.

  “I’m walkin’ slower these days. Come on in, Amy.”

  Chip was sliding backward down the stairs. He shrieked “Amy!” when he saw her, ran up, and hugged her legs. Relief to see how much the toddler liked his babysitter made the prospect of leaving him with her when the new baby arrived much easier to take.

  The day progressed as usual, with no surprises. When she turned out the light, she thought of Griff, in his bed in the hotel in Houston. Tomorrow was his game then he’d be heading home. She smiled to think she had worried.

  At three o’clock, Lauren pushed up, swung her legs over the side of the mattress, and headed for the bathroom to pee. All of a sudden, there was a gush of water. She looked down to see a puddle on the floor.

  “Oh, shit!”

  Her water had broken. Panic seized her for a moment. She managed to get back to the bedroom, take some deep breaths, and calm down. Until the pain began. Sobs broke from her throat. Griff, where are you?

  She practiced her Lamaze breathing as she looked up Verna’s number with shaking hands.

  It took the older woman a few minutes to wake up and realize what was happening. “Oh, dear. You’re going into labor?”

  “Yes. Help me, help me, Verna.” And the waterworks began again.

  “Hang on, Lauren. Hang on.”

  The quarterback’s wife heard muffled voices in the background. Hank’s there? Is he sleeping with Verna? Her curiosity took her away from the dire situation she was in for a moment, until a sharp labor pain brought her back.

  “Is Hank there?” she asked, when she could breathe again.

  “Yes. How about this? We’re coming over. He’s getting dressed now. I’ll stay with Chip, and he’ll take you to the hospital. Do you have a bag packed?”

  “Yes. But do I have to go with Hank?”

  “I’m better with Chip. Let him take you. He wants to.”

  “I’d rather go with you.”

  “I’m not good in these situations. I faint at the sight of blood. Please, Lauren. Try to put the past behind you and let him be there for you. He’s really a good man.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “Fine. We’ll be right over. Get dressed, and don’t panic.”

  Lauren peeked into Chip’s room. He was sound asleep. Then, she padded back to her room, called the doctor’s office, and pulled out a pair of leggings and a tunic top. Griff had already taken the small suitcase downstairs and left it by the front door. She smiled. It was almost as if he were there. It took a bit of time to pull on the leggings, but by the time she was dressed, she heard the crunch of tires on the driveway gravel.

  She made her way downstairs as quickly as possible. When Lauren heard the car door open, she cracked the front door. Verna won’t have to ring the bell. She watched her friend and Hank make their way up the walk. A strong contraction doubled her over. She cried out, before she remembered her training.

  Verna rushed up to her. “Lauren! Are you all right?”

  “Please. I need to get to the hospital.”

  Hank joined them. “Where’s the suitcase?”

  “Here it is,” Verna said. “Let’s get you in the car. Don’t worry about Chip. I’ll take good care of him.”

  “He’ll be scared to wake up without me.”

  “Chip’ll get over it. What’s his favorite television program?”

  “SpongeBob.”

  “Oh, dear. Well, it is what it is. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Hank gripped the valise and followed along. Verna helped Lauren into the front seat while Hank hurried around to the driver’s side. Then, he backed the car out of the driveway and turned onto the road. He glanced over at his daughter-in-law. “Don’t worry, Lauren. We’ve got this.”

  “Don’t call Griff.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  She looked at his profile, so like his son’s. Guess he’s the next best thing. Along with the next contraction came pain, fear, and a strong yearning to be with her husband. Tears flooded her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  Hank stopped at a red light. “I promise, Lauren, I won’t let you down. I won’t leave your side.” He patted her hand.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  Hank reached into his pocket and whipped out a clean handkerchief. He handed it to her.

  She burst out laughing. “That’s where Griff gets it. From you?”

  “What?”

  “He always has a clean hanky for me when I cry.”

  “That’s the way his mother and I brought him up.”

  “You did a good job. Hope I can do as well with mine.”

  “So far, so good. Chip is a fine boy,” Hank said, putting on the turn signal.

  “Thank you.”

  Hank pulled up to the curb in front of the hospital to unload Lauren and her bag. He flagged down an orderly and got a wheelchair for her. By now, the contractions and pains were ten minutes apart.

  “I’ll join you as soon as I park the car. Hang in.”

  Again, she nodded, gripping her belly, doing her Lamaze.

  Checking in, getting a room, and getting undressed was a hazy memory outlined in pain. Once she was in bed, the nurse raised the head. She did her breathing, laid back, and closed her eyes.

  “Lauren?”

  She heard a familiar voice. Griff? She opened her eyes to see Hank enter the room.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Nothing. She can have ice chips. But that’s it,” the nurse answered for her, wrapping a blood pressure band around the expectant mother’s arm. “Who are you? The father?”

  Hank chuckled. “The grandfather. The father’s in Texas, about to play a football game.”

  “Hmpf. Game’s more important than his child.”

  “He’s not like that,” Lauren squeezed out. “It’s his job.”

  “He’s Griff Montgomery, quarterback for the Connecticut Kings. Maybe you’ve heard of him?” Hank put in.

  “Don’t follow sports. Let’s take care of this lady. I’ll find the doctor, and we’ll get this show started.”

  Lauren cried out again.

  “Looks like you’ve already begun.” The nurse smiled as she left.

  Hank pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Tell me what to do, Lauren. Boss me. Yell at me. Hit me.”

  “I need you to help me focus. And to count. To coach me on breathing.”

  “I’ll see if I can remember. Tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” he said, taking her hand. As another contraction seized her, Lauren squeezed his fingers. “That’s a girl. Good grip.”

  She went to her breathing for pain management. Hank drew on the days when his children were born and coached her as best he could. He was desperately looking for a focal point when the doctor entered.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Montgomery. And you are?”

  “Hank Montgomery. The baby’s grandfather. Griff’s in Texas.”

  “Playoffs?”

  Hank nodded.

  “Let’s have a look-see,” the doctor said, sitting down with the speculum.

  Hank left to give Lauren privacy.

  “Just going to the lounge. Call Verna. Check in on Chip. I’ll be right back.”

  He pulled out his phone.

  “Shit,” Hank mumbled.

  “Griff?” Lauren asked, between breathing exercises.

  He nodded before saying, “Mum’s the word.” He made a thumbs up sign as he left the room.

  * * * *

  Griff woke up at seven. He reached out, but the bed was empty. When he was fully awake, he rememb
ered where he was. He hated sleeping without Lauren. He loved putting his big hand on her belly and feeling the baby kick. He missed her.

  There wasn’t time to go back to sleep. The game was scheduled for one. He needed to get dressed, eat, and get to the stadium to warm up. First, he called Lauren to check in. It went right to voicemail. She’s probably got her hands full. He jumped in the shower then pulled out his suit. After putting on his underwear and socks, he called again. Voicemail. His brows knit. He shrugged and got dressed, but his hands shook a little as he tied his tie.

  There was a knock. He opened it to Buddy Carruthers, his star wide receiver.

  “Breakfast. Let’s go.”

  “I’ve tried Lauren a couple of times, but no answer.”

  “It’s seven thirty. We gotta move. You can call her from the bus.”

  Griff joined his friend. There was a breakfast buffet in a private dining room on the first floor of the hotel. Coach was discussing some last minute defensive moves with Trunk Mahoney and Devon Drake. Harley Brennan joined the offensive team as they sat down to eat. Griff couldn’t concentrate on anyone’s conversations.

  “I’m calling again,” he said to Buddy.

  “Still no call back?”

  “Something’s not right. She knows I’m worried. She’d call. I’m going to try my Dad.”

  Buddy nodded as he took a forkful of scrambled eggs. Griff pulled out his phone and headed for the hotel lobby. He dialed his father’s cell.

  “Hi, Dad. Did you speak to Lauren today, by any chance?”

  “Sure did. Thought I’d check in with her. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “Good idea. Is she mad you’re calling?”

  “No, no, not at all. She seemed grateful. Everything’s okay here, son.”

  “Lauren’s not calling me back.”

  “Oh, really? Might be that she’s outside with the boy. She said she was going to take him out early. Tire him out.”

  “Oh, yeah. Right. He’s really into running in the yard. No problem. When you speak to her next, will you ask her to call me, please?”

  “Sure, sure. Will do. But no need for you to worry. Everything here is under control.”

  Griff thought he heard the sound of someone screaming in the background. “Hey, what’s that? Someone get hit by a car or something?”

  “That? It’s just the TV. I’m watching a movie.”

  “Which one?”

  “Gotta go, son. Everything okay with you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Wonderful. Good luck today.”

  “Dad, you’re not shitting me now, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Swear on my mother’s grave?”

  “Griff! What a horrible thing to say.”

  “Swear!”

  “You’ll just have to believe me. Play your game. Win. Everything here’s covered.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Gotta go. They’re getting to the good part. She’s taking off her clothes. Love you.”

  His father hung up before Griff could say he loved him. Griff smelled a rat. He stared at the phone. There was something a bit strange going on. Buddy joined him. “Something’s not right.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  “My dad sounded weird. Watching a movie? Porn? At this hour? I don’t think so.”

  Buddy put a hand on his friend’s arm. “Let it go. It’s probably nothing. And if it is something, there’s nothing you can do about it from here.”

  “But the birth of my child.”

  “Hey, the kid’ll be around forever. This is only one day. Let it go. You’ve got a game to win. Get your head back in football.”

  “What if something’s wrong?”

  “If that happens, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with it later. There’s nothing you can do from here, Griff. Just accept it. Let’s go finish breakfast and beat the shit out of the Riders.”

  Griff stared ahead while he digested the words. “You’re right. Nothing I can do. Dad’s got this. He’ll do fine.”

  “That’s right. He’ll do fine. Besides, my mom’s there too.”

  Griff turned. “Yeah. I forgot. Verna can handle anything.”

  “Well, maybe not anything…”

  “She raised you, didn’t she?”

  Buddy’s lips got pouty. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Griff chuckled. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “Come on. Chow down. We’ve got a game to win.”

  ** * *

  Monroe County Hospital, three o’clock in the afternoon

  Hank was in the visitor’s lounge on the phone with Verna. “She’s been at it for almost twelve hours. I don’t know how much more she can take.”

  “Stay with her. The doctors’ll know what to do.”

  “How’s Chip?”

  “Awful. We had a hard day. He cried for his mom and was whiny for two hours. I thought I’d lose my mind. I took him outside, we had lunch, then a nap. He was fine after that. We’re watching SpongeBob now. I’ll make dinner in a bit, then a movie, then bed. I’m pooped.”

  “Lie down and rest.”

  “You should get back to Lauren.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you a progress report when I have more news.”

  “You must be tired.”

  “After eight cups of coffee, I don’t feel a thing.” He chuckled.

  “Good job.”

  “Love you, Verna.”

  “Back at ya.”

  Hank shut off his cell and returned to the birthing room. Lauren was sweaty and tearful. Her eyes were puffy, with bags and dark circles underneath.

  “We’ll begin pushing as soon as she’s fully dilated. Won’t be long now,” the nurse said.

  “Good thing too. She’s worn out. I hope she has the strength.”

  The woman laughed. “Women are a lot tougher than you think.”

  “I don’t doubt that one bit.”

  The nurse handed him a cup. He eased into the chair beside Lauren. She stared at him with hostile eyes.

  “Hey, I’m not the guy who got you into this,” he said, raising one hand. “Got some fresh ice chips for you.”

  Lauren plucked one from the container. “If I never see another ice chip, it’ll be too soon,” she mumbled.

  Hank took her hand. “I think you’re the bravest woman on Earth.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Hank,” she shot back.

  “I mean it. Going through this without Griff. You’re something else, lady.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “What?” He leaned closer.

  “Scared. Scared silly. Scared shitless. Terrified.”

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. The doctors aren’t going to let anything bad happen to you or baby Gracie, either,” he replied.

  She started her panting and blowing again as another contraction rocketed through her. She squeezed his hands, her face pale, her eyes wide.

  Hank turned to the nurse. “Where’s the doctor? She needs to know what’s going on.”

  “He’ll be along in five minutes. Hang on, honey. You’re going to be all right.”

  Hank could tell when the pain passed, as she collapsed against the pillows. Her gown was drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead. She looked miserable. His heart broke.

  “Griff’s lucky he’s not here. I’d kill him. Shove those ice chips up his nose,” Lauren muttered through clenched teeth.

  “I know, sweetie, I know. Focus on the pink flower in that picture, there, across the room.”

  The doctor came in and examined Lauren, just as another contraction hit. They were very close together.

  Hank checked his watch. “Okay, doc. They’re a minute apart now.”

  “She’s dilated. It’s time.”

  The nurse came in and helped coach Lauren. Hank wiped her face with a damp cloth. She grabbed his bicep and squeezed
until he was sure it was bruised. A small price to pay to help her deliver the baby.

  The pushing went on for half an hour.

  Lauren looked to be at the end of her rope. “I can’t do it. Can’t do it anymore,” she gasped, closing her eyes.

  “Rest a moment,” the doctor said, pushing to his feet.

  “Come on, Lauren. Just a little bit longer. You can do it.”

  “I’m running on empty.”

  “Even on empty, a gas tank has one gallon left.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery…” the doctor began.

  “Please, call me Lauren. We’re intimately acquainted.”

  “Lauren, he’s right. Just a little longer. This baby’s gonna pop right out.”

  Hank watched her throw the man an evil glance, take several deep breaths, and bear down once more. It was the lucky charm. The baby came, and the doctor pulled her out all the way. Within moments, the child was wailing, Lauren was crying, and so was Hank.

  He left the room so the nurse could clean up Lauren. In the visitor’s lounge, his hands were shaking, and he couldn’t stop the tears. The baby was beautiful, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He poured himself another cup of coffee and dialed Verna.

  “She’s here! And she’s a beauty. Just like her mother.”

  “Oh my God! Hank. That’s so exciting!”

  He sat down and told her the whole story. When the nurse called him, he bid Verna farewell.

  As he approached Lauren’s bed, he took a paper towel and mopped his face. A very tired Lauren was holding the swaddled infant. While she looked like all newborns to some extent, he could see traces of Montgomery in the child. She was truly pretty. So was Lauren—exhausted, but serene.

  “She’s beautiful. You did a fantastic job.”

  Lauren turned grateful eyes to him. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Yes, you could. But I’m honored to have been here. Water?” He poured a cup and held the straw to her parched lips.

  She took a healthy drink. “I was wrong about you. You were here for me every minute.”

  “Where else would I be? You were amazing. So brave. Want to talk to Griff? Game’s over.”

 

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