In the living room, I reached down to pick up newspaper and kindling to build a fire when a searing pain grabbed me, stealing my breath. I gripped the chair beside the fireplace. “Oh, God. Not now.”
But the flood of moisture down my legs said, ‘Yes, now.’ I rode out the contraction and stumbled to find my phone. Where did I leave my cell phone? I searched my purse and my jacket pockets. Nothing. I opened the door and looked across the blanketed yard to Shay’s house. No car in the driveway.
Then I remembered putting my cell phone on my nightstand when I’d taken a nap earlier. I reached the bed as another contraction doubled me. They were coming too hard and too close. I eased down onto the bed and practiced breathing. I snatched up my phone and pressed in Audrey’s cell number. It rang twice, then went to voicemail. I left a frantic message for her to come home as soon as possible.
Next, I called Thomas. There was no answer at his office, so I tried his cell. Once again, my call went to voicemail. Shit.
I dialed 9-1-1. When I had given my address and hung up, I kicked off the wet sweatpants, pulled a dry pair from the dresser, and worked my way into them. Another pain seized me and I sat on the edge of the bed, riding it out. When the wave of pain passed, I picked up the bag Dad insisted I pack and unlocked the front door to stare out into a blizzard, reminding myself to breath evenly. While I waited, I left a message for Kat that I was on my way to the hospital.
Five minutes later, an ambulance wailed around the corner and slid to a stop in the driveway.
I opened the door for the paramedic and reached for my coat. “The contractions are about six minutes apart. Can we get to Mercy? How bad is the traffic and the roads?”
“We’ll get you there.” The medic wrapped one arm around my back and carried my bag as we inched across the slick sidewalk. Inside the emergency vehicle, he removed my coat and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm.
I closed my eyes, setting my breathing into a rhythm to match the contractions.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“It’s too early. The baby isn’t due for another ten days.”
He chuckled. “Well, I guess he’s eager to make his arrival.”
The ambulance slowed, the driver blared the horn, and then we sped forward. At the Emergency entrance, the paramedics helped me into a wheelchair and spouted statistics and vital signs to the nurse. “Contractions are five minutes apart.”
The nurse, a woman close to my mother’s age, patted my shoulder. “Okay, honey. We’ll go straight upstairs to a birthing suite. Who’s here with you?”
“I’m alone.” The words caught in my throat. I was alone at a time when I should have my husband at my side. My family and friends waiting anxiously for our new arrival. Tears stung my eyes.
The nurse patted my arm. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. We’ll take good care of you until your family arrives.”
“Is Dr. Brodey here today? He’s my OB.”
“We’ll page him, but I’m not sure he made it in. Dr. Mason will be with you shortly. Try to relax.
“It’s happening too fast. I’m not due for another week and a half.”
Inside the birthing suite, the nurse helped me change into a gown and settled me on the bed. She lifted my feet into cold metal stirrups and draped a sheet over my knees.
A woman in green scrubs entered the room and introduced herself as Dr. Mason. “I’m going to examine you and see what’s going on.” She performed an exam, then murmured something to the nurse. Removing her latex gloves with a snap, she said, “You’re dilated at eight centimeters. This baby is coming very soon. When did your contractions start?”
“Last night, but I didn’t think it was real labor.”
“It’s real. Is anyone here with you?”
“No. They’re all out Christmas shopping.”
The door opened and a pale and out-of-breath Kat Newberry stumbled into the room. “Am I too late?”
“You’re just in ti-i-i-ime.” Another contraction gripped me.
Kat dropped her purse and clutched my hand. She followed the nurse’s instructions for holding me up while I pushed.
“I’m supposed to have an epidural,” I cried.
“Too late now,” the doctor replied. “You’re fully effaced. With the next contraction, I want you to push.”
I heard Kat groan as I squeezed her hand when the next wave of pain rolled through me.
“Push,” the doctor instructed. “Good, good. Now breathe.”
In ten more minutes, with instructions to push, wait, and breathe—all of which blurred in my mind—the doctor said, “You’re crowning. Really big push with the next contraction.”
I felt the contraction begin and bore down as hard as I could.
“Great. You’re doing good,” the doctor said. “Hold now. Don’t push again just yet.”
“What’s happening?” I asked. “I want this baby out. Now!”
“One second. Then another big push with the next contraction. Okay?”
The contraction rolled through me, I pushed, and the baby slipped from my body.
“There you go. You have a beautiful boy,” the nurse announced.
It seemed interminable before I heard my son’s cry for the first time. What a glorious sound.
My son was placed on my stomach. I touched his tiny fingers which wrapped around my own. He had Thomas’s chin and dark hair. “Welcome to the world, Ryan Thomas.”
“He’s beautiful, Meg,” Kat murmured.
“He is.” The baby flailed arms and legs and let out a wail. I laughed. “He’s so beautiful.”
The nurse took him to clean him. “Don’t worry, I’ll give him right back,” she said with a grin.
The door to the birthing room opened and a frantic Thomas burst through. “Did I miss it?”
The doctor looked up. “Who are you?”
The baby whimpered from across the room and Thomas stared. “I’m his father.” Thomas walked toward me, but his attention was clearly on the other side of the room. “Are you okay? Is he?”
I reached for Thomas’s hand. “We’re both fine. I’m sorry you missed it.”
“I was stuck in traffic and my cell died. I got your message as soon as I got home and plugged in the charger. I raced right over here.”
Kat offered Thomas her congratulations. “I’ll go down and wait by the entrance for Audrey and your parents.”
“Thanks, Kat. You have no idea what it meant to have you with me.”
She winked and exited the room.
The baby, swaddled in a soft blue blanket, was placed in Thomas’s arms. He stared down at the wrinkled red face. “Is he supposed to be so red?”
“You would be, too, if you’d just been through what he’s been through,” I said.
Thomas traced his son’s face with a fingertip. “He has my chin, don’t you think?”
“I saw that right away.” I gazed at Thomas. He was such a beautiful man, if that’s an appropriate description for a man. Dark hair, chocolaty brown eyes… I always teased that he reminded me of a men’s underwear model. But it was his eyes I focused on. They were filled with love for his son. No matter what the relationship between Thomas and myself, I knew he would be the best father.
An hour later, I was settled in bed nursing the baby. Thomas sat at my side, observing with great interest. A tap sounded on the door, then Audrey popped her head in. “Hey, can we come in? Oh, you’re nursing.”
I heard my father say, “I’ll wait out here.”
Thomas offered the chair to my mother and pulled another one over for Audrey. “You two come in. I’ll go out and talk with Abe.” He bent to kiss my forehead and brushed a fingertip over the baby’s cheek.
“Oh, Meg. He’s beautiful.” Audrey sat down. “I feel so awful that we weren’t there. I’d left my cell in the car. Everything is such a mess, and the traffic on McKnight was miles long. Then we couldn’t get onto Fifth Avenue because of an accident, so I had to detour aroun
d. The side streets are a nightmare…”
I laughed. “Audrey, it’s okay.”
“So, Thomas got you to the hospital?” my mother asked.
“No, the paramedics brought me in. Then Kat showed up in time for the delivery. Where is Kat?”
“She said she’d see you in a day or two,” Audrey said.
The baby fell asleep, releasing my breast. I covered myself and offered him to my mother. “Here, Grandma. Meet your new grandson.”
She settled him into the crook of her arm. “He is so precious.”
I nodded to Audrey. “Do you want to get Daddy? I know he’s out there chomping at the bit to see his grandson.”
Audrey opened the door and ushered my father inside. He smiled at the baby in my mother’s arms, then came to me. “Hi, sweetheart. Sorry we weren’t here for you.”
“It’s fine, Dad. Have a seat and meet your grandson.”
Dad sat down beside Mom and opened the blanket for a better view. “Got all his fingers and toes.”
“He’s perfect,” my mother cooed.
~ * ~
Three days later, I sat in the recliner in my living room holding Ryan while Thomas put up the Christmas tree he had brought for us. Thomas seemed a little better—more energized. The doorbell rang and Thomas answered.
“Hi. Is Meg here?”
Thomas opened the door wide for Shay and Maurice to enter.
“I just had to come and see the baby,” Shay squealed. She bent over to look at Ryan. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Would you take him for a minute? I need to use the bathroom.”
“I’d love to.” She took the baby and settled into the chair I vacated. Maurice stood over her. I saw the longing in Shay’s face, and I assumed their efforts to conceive had been unproductive so far.
My father emerged from the kitchen and suggested we order pizza for delivery and have an impromptu decorating party. “I don’t want your mother to start cooking. She looks tired to me.”
Mom smacked his arm playfully. “I’m never too tired to cook. But a decorating party is a great idea. No pepperoni or sausage on our pizza.”
“But—” My father’s protest died as my mother glared at him. “Fine.”
When I announced that I didn’t have decorations, Thomas grinned. “Yes, you do. I brought the ones from the house.”
“Oh.” It hit me that my past and my present were about to collide. Thomas and I had collected tree ornaments over the years we were together. We always made a big deal of placing each ornament in the perfect spot on the tree.
“Is that okay? If you want new ones, I’ll run to Wal-Mart,” he offered.
I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t effectively separate the past and present anyway. And maybe integrating the two would be the beginning of the future. “I’d love to have the old ones. Thank you.” I used the bathroom, then went into the kitchen and called Audrey. “Hey, we’re having a tree decorating party. Come on over.”
“Julian and I just came in. Can I bring him along?”
“Sure. The more the merrier. We’re ordering pizza.”
“Want us to pick it up along the way?”
“Nah, let them deliver. See you in a few.”
The pizza arrived thirty-five minutes later. Shay barely wanted to let go of the baby long enough to eat, insisting she could eat any time. I returned from the kitchen with extra napkins when Audrey and Julian came through the front door.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold. “Hi, everyone.”
Julian stepped inside behind her.
Thomas’s face drained of color. “Julian?”
“Thomas?”
Tension hummed in the air. Everyone else fell silent.
“You guys know each other?” Audrey asked.
“Yes, we’ve…uh…met,” Julian replied.
“Well, small world. So, take off your coats and grab some pizza. What would you two like to drink?” I rushed my words to fill the awkward silence that followed Julian’s reply. “Thomas, maybe you could help me? In the kitchen?”
“Uh…sure.” He followed while everyone else tried to look as though there was not a six-hundred-pound gorilla in the middle of the room.
In the kitchen, I turned to Thomas. “What was that about?”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s an awkward situation.”
“Tell me about it. What the hell is going on?”
He drew in a deep breath. “Julian and Francisco were… They…used to be…together. Before Francisco and I—”
“Oh, my God.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am. I’ve been trying to get Audrey and Julian together.”
Thomas stared at me, then laughed. “You what? You set your sister up with a gay man? Oh, baby. Your gaydar is way out of whack.” He pulled me to him in a hug.
“This isn’t funny. They’ve been seeing each other for months, ever since I introduced them.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You introduced them? But where did you meet Julian?”
“I…uh…can’t say.”
“You can’t say? Oh… Oh, no. Meg. Don’t tell me he was a client of yours.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you. God, this is awful.”
Audrey came into the kitchen then. “Everything okay in here?”
I locked eyes with her. “Yes. Absolutely. Everything okay in there?”
She looked at Thomas, then back to me, a smile tugging at her lips. “You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?” I asked.
“Oh, Meg. You’re a terrible liar. You know Julian is gay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but we were having so much fun watching your match-making attempts.”
Thomas lifted a beer from the fridge. “I’ll take this to Julian and let you girls talk.”
“You’ve known all this time?” I asked Audrey.
“Of course. He told me.”
“But you’re dating him.”
She reached for a cold can of Diet Coke and popped the tab. “No, I’m not. We’re friends. I’ve been telling you that all along, but you refuse to accept it.”
“Did he tell you he was with Francisco, before Thomas?”
Her smile faded. “Oh. He didn’t mention that. Well, that explains the tension in the room.”
“You think? What’s going on in there now?”
“Everyone’s acting like everything is normal. Which is kind of funny, considering…” She laughed.
“Considering what?”
Tears rolled from her eyes as she snorted, “Your gay husband and his boyfriend’s ex-lover are decorating your tree. And I showed up with a man you think you’ve set me up with who used to be involved with your husband’s lover. Dad’s trying to convince Mom they should buy a Subaru since mine got us through the snowstorm. But they live in Florida. The only normal people in there are Shay, Maurice, and the baby. Come on, you’ve got to see the humor in this.”
I stared at her for a moment before it hit me. Soon the two of us were doubled over with laughter.
Wiping my eyes with a paper napkin, I said to Audrey, “Ryan may be this family’s salvation.”
Audrey swiped the moisture from her cheeks.
I straightened and sobered. “Okay, we have to go back in there.”
“Do we really? I haven’t laughed like this in months. It feels so good.”
I put an arm around her. “It certainly does.” I smiled and re-entered the fray where Julian was in a discussion with Maurice, and Thomas opened boxes of tree ornaments while my dad untangled strips of lights.
My house was alive with the love, the laughter, and the tensions that come with the gathering of family. I walked to the fireplace and picked up a photo from the mantle—a picture of me when I was ten, standing with my grandfather. His smile stretched across his broad, weathered face. His eyes sparkled with amusement. He loved his family and his friends. He enjoyed the chaos of Christmas day when Audrey and I would excitedl
y rip open gift after gift, many of them from our grandparents. He would enjoy this gathering of such an odd and unlikely group of people.
My mother snaked an arm around my waist. “That photograph has always been one of my favorites. Your Granddad Ritter would love a day like this.”
“I was thinking that very thing. He enjoyed the company of every person he met. I don’t think I ever heard a harsh word of judgment come out of his mouth.”
She leaned close. “You’re a lot like him.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
“You’ve accepted Thomas’s lifestyle. You’ve been very kind to him, and I know it’s costing you to do so. Your granddad would be proud of you.”
I watched Thomas move carefully around the tree. I noticed how he tried to be sensitive to Julian’s presence. I understood a bit about how Julian might be feeling, like the rejected third wheel. So I joined him on the sofa and whispered an apology for bringing him into an awkward situation.
“I should probably apologize to you for not telling you about myself, but the issue of sexual preference didn’t seem relevant to my therapy,” he said. “Then Audrey was having so much fun with your match-making, I couldn’t tell you.”
“You’re right. It was irrelevant. And I confess I didn’t have a clue. If I ever start dating again, I’m going to have to be much more intuitive about men. But that’s a big if.”
He nodded and whispered back, “We all have to move on, don’t we?”
Julian sounded like me, the way I sounded with my clients. I had convinced myself that I’d moved on because I’d found a way to stay connected with Thomas despite all that had happened. But moving on would mean stepping away from Thomas the way he’d stepped away from me. When would I be ready to do that?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Christmas brought one celebration after another. My parents, Audrey, and I spent Christmas Eve together at my house. At two weeks of age, Ryan slept through most of it. On Christmas day, we joined Thomas and his family at Elena’s where Ryan was taken from my arms and not returned until he gave out a hungry wail. If he was being bottle-fed, I wouldn’t have had him back then. His abuela, aunts, and cousins monopolized him throughout the day.
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