Pucker Factor

by MariaLisa deMora

  “First change her top. Then we’ll stand her and get the bottoms off.”

  Eyes on Lindsay’s face, Oscar nodded at Debby’s words, then Lindsay saw only the top of his head for the moments it took him to remove her shoes and socks. Lindsay watched as he set them aside, socks tucked inside just like she would have done.

  He leaned into her and captured her with his gaze again. “Eyes on me, okay?” Lindsay stared at him and he held her gaze, waiting for her nod. Then her jacket was gone, followed by her sweater, and her bra was unhooked and drooping on her arms. Oscar deftly removed it, then leaned even closer as he slipped the gown up her arms. A quick movement behind her head and he shifted back, gripping her forearms as he urged her with a soft, “Up, honey.” Ignoring the returning tightness around her middle, she grabbed hold and stood, pushing through the growing pain to stand upright. “Get her pants, Deb.”

  The chair moved; then there were deft fingers at her waist, her pants and panties whisked down her legs, hands urging her to lift first one foot, then the other.

  “Got one comin’ on?” Oscar hadn’t looked away from her face, and he had a pair of lines between his brows, something that told her he worried just as much as he smiled. She nodded, back bowing as the contraction pulled all of her muscles painfully tight. “Hold on to me, Lindsay. I got you.” He released one of her arms and towed her closer to him so she could lean against his strong frame. “I got you.” She clutched at his shirt, head turned into him, so her face was hidden when the pain pulled a groan out of her.

  “You weren’t kidding. I’m glad you got her up here when you did.” Something cold and slippery touched the inside of Lindsay’s thighs and she jolted, head coming upright. “Lindsay, I’m just going to check where this little one’s at, see how eager they are to join the party.” Probing touches, then Debby hissed, “Goodness, you’re right there, aren’t you?” Her voice gentled as she reported, “Good news, Lindsay. You’re definitely in labor. Plus four station, which means your baby’s dropped into the birth canal, and I’m going to say eight centimeters dilated. Where do you feel the pain, Lindsay, can you show me, honey?”

  “My back,” Lindsay mangled the words, groaning again as the contraction peaked finally, leaving her shaking in the pain’s slowly ebbing wake. “When it’s strong like that, it’s my back mostly.”

  “Posterior presentation,” came the unfathomable response. “Oscar, I’ll go get a squat bar, if you can hold her like that for a minute? We’ll do what we can to make it better. She’s not too far for an epi, but that’ll mean she’s bed-bound for the duration.”

  “I don’t want an epidural,” Lindsay said, shaking her head, which had the effect of grinding her forehead against Oscar’s chest. “I can do this.”

  “We know you can, Lindsay.” Oscar’s beautiful, gruff voice came from just over her head, the rumbling words vibrating through his chest and into her. “Women have been doing this for centuries, but that don’t mean you can’t be as comfortable as we can make it for you. That baby inside you is facin’ the wrong way for an easy birth, so what Deb’s talking about is using some positioning to convince that little one to flip around.”

  “What? No, I’ve been feeling feet stretching high up.” The sudden panic flooding through her forced out the question she’d most feared asking, “The baby, my baby’s okay, right?” Terror drove the movement as she lifted her head and looked at him, the feeling easing as she watched that softness settled on his features again.

  “Yeah, right as rain,” Debby said over the snap and pop of a glove being removed. “And not breech, this little one is head down, no worries there. But they’ve got the rear part of their head pressing against your back, which is why it’s hurting more than it should. Do you know the sex of the baby?” Lindsay shook her head, not meeting Debby’s eyes as she anticipated the next question. “Who’s your OB? I’ll call them in when I pass by the desk.” Eyes closed, Lindsay dipped her chin to her throat and shook her head again. “Oscar said you haven’t been in Mayhan long? What about your hometown OB, did you get your records from them?” Lindsay didn’t answer, keeping her face angled away. “Tell you what, honey”—Deb’s voice softened—“we’ll get you settled and I’ll call my favorite doc, give him an update and get him in here. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds.” Lindsay broke off to clear her throat. “Sounds good.” She twisted and shoved out a lungful of air. “Oh." Oscar’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “Mmm.” He moved, and she went with him, shuffling around to the end of the bed, breathing shallowly as another powerful contraction began its process of sweeping over her. When he tried to take her hand from his chest, she tightened her fingers in his shirt, holding on, irrationally afraid he was about to leave her here alone.

  “Gonna get you some relief, Lindsay. Trust me.” His voice was already so familiar that she panted softly and turned loose. He wrapped her fingers around the footboard, then stepped to her side and placed her other hand there, too. His arm slipped under her arm and around her chest, his other going to her lower back. “Come down here with me. Come on.” Feet spread as wide as she could, she tried to do what he asked, but it felt as if she was going to topple over, even with him holding her from the side like he was. “I got you, Lindsay. Feet flat on the floor, squat down between my legs.”

  She slowly lowered herself, and the moment she was in position, his hand left her back, coming to the side of her head, where he gently pushed sideways until her cheek rested on his chest. Once she’d relaxed into him as much as she could, the heat from his touch returned to her back, where his fingers started rubbing hard, digging deep into the tight muscles at the top of her butt. That pressure felt so incredibly good she sagged against him with a sigh and a groan. Immediately the contraction felt more manageable, less overwhelming, and when she said, “Oh,” this time, it was in relief. It felt good to have her arms stretched up, and the tightening around her belly seemed more purposeful than just pain. With Oscar’s thumb and fingers stroking the muscles rhythmically and firmly, the crushing pain in her back was muted enough she could breathe through the contraction.

  “Yeah, that’s the ticket.” He shifted, the knee in front of her legs going down to the floor. “We got this, Lindsay. We got this.”

  She didn’t know when it had gone from being her chore to their shared goal, but she’d take it. The trek to the hospital had her strangled with dread when her water broke, leaving her holding on to a street sign as a puddle of liquid grew around her feet. After feeling alone and afraid for so long—when the veil of fear pulled back, just as the pain had, it gave her a moment to breathe and she accepted it like the blessing it was.

  “Mmm.” Eyes closed tightly, she waited it out, the final tension from the contraction falling away. “That’s so much better.”

  “You steady like that? Got a good hold?” Lindsay lifted her head and angled her eyes up, seeing Oscar smiling down at her. She nodded. “Okay, stay just like that.” He slowly released his grip on her far side, fingers relaxing and retreating. Lindsay shivered as she lost the heat from his arm. He stayed close for another moment, then reassured her, “You’re good.” A moment later, he was behind her, and she saw his knees on the floor between her legs. Belatedly she realized the gown gaped at the back, because how else would he have been rubbing her bare skin. Then she lost that thought when his hands gripped low on each hip, thumbs firmly drilling directly into where it had hurt so badly. “Get this loosened up, and the next one won’t be as bad.” From his mutter, she suspected he was looking down, and Lindsay tried to ignore the knowledge that her bare butt would be on full display. “How’s that, Lindsay?”

  “Really good.” She rolled her head, trying to wipe the side of her face. “Are you a nurse or something?”

  “Or something. I’m a little bit of everything these days.”

  His answer didn’t make any sense, but she set that aside, breathing slowly

  He asked, “What kind of work do you d
o?”

  “I was a marketer.” Neck bending forwards and back, she stretched out her shoulders, hoping he’d leave it at that.

  He let her breathe through a few more contractions, his voice soothing and encouraging, just his presence making it so she wasn’t as afraid. It helped to know that for now, in this moment, she was no longer alone. Finally, he asked the question she’d hoped he wouldn’t.

  “Was a marketer? Where’d you work?”

  She named the Dallas firm she’d worked at for five years, moving between the different offices as clients and projects demanded. It had been her dream job until seven months ago, when she’d told her lover she was pregnant. Lindsay left out that detail, as well as the information that her boss was the baby’s sperm donor. He’d made it clear he didn’t want to be a dad, writing her a check to “take care of the little problem,” and when she hadn’t, he’d conspired with the head HR director—his wife, something Lindsay hadn’t known given the woman had a different last name, worked at the home office, and neither of them wore rings—to get her out of the firm quickly and quietly.

  “How’d you get to Mayhan? It’s a fair distance to D-Town.”

  She pulled in a breath to answer him, then blew it out steadily as another contraction hit. “Mmm.” It was strong, maybe the strongest yet, but in this position, they were no longer threatening to tear her apart like the previous ones had. “Mmm.” The heat from his hands grounded her, his voice soothing her through that contraction and into the next. They were coming in waves now, relentlessly moving things forwards, each growing in frequency and urgency.

  Through it all, he told her with words and deeds, “I got you, Lindsay. You can do this.” Oscar repeated it until she believed him, and even though her legs were shaking from the strain, she felt strong and capable.

  The band around her belly tightened, and tightened again until something shifted inside her. With the change, that band of tightness clamped down hard until she couldn’t push out any more air, her body bearing down. Now her arms were shaking, palms slick with sweat threatening to slip on the metal of the footboard as she tried to renew her grip.

  “Hold on.” Oscar’s heat disappeared for a moment, and she heard something dragging across the floor, then he was behind her again, lifting under her arms until she was positioned between his knees. “Get your elbows on my legs. See if you can hold yourself up like this.”

  Feet still flat on the floor, this was more a suspended sitting position, and she looked down to see the shape of her stomach had changed, no longer a hard beachball riding high. “Oscar.” She let her head drop back and looked up at him. “Something’s going on.”

  His hands swept up and down her arms, massaging her shoulders and neck before his fingers hit her temples, rubbing slow circles. “Yeah, things are progressing.” She stared at his corded neck, visible behind that beard she liked a lot, and she wanted to put her mouth on him. Heat swept over her at the bizarrely timed thought, and she averted her face, looking back at her belly. He asked, “How’s your back now?”

  With shock, she realized it didn’t hurt, not like it had. “It’s good.” She shoved her elbows against his thighs, testing how it felt to push up. “It’s really good.”

  “Bet when Deb checks you again, that stubborn little fella’s gonna be in a better place to make his entrance.” Through her movements, he’d kept his grip on the side of her face, fingertips drawing tiny circles on each temple. “Just needed to let Mother Nature do her work.”

  “He?” She smiled, surprised at how bubbly she felt. “Are you taking bets?”

  “Oh, yeah. Do you know any girl as tenacious as that?” He chuckled, the sound a dark musical tone that filled the room. “I don’t. Nope, this is a boy. No doubt.”

  “How do you know all this?” She adjusted herself slightly, resting her back against him. “Do you have kids?”

  He was quiet, too quiet, and she was afraid she’d asked something she shouldn’t. The muscles under her arms tightened, bunched, and shifted while the silence piled up, building a mountain of deadened air she felt was suffocating her. “No, Lindsay. No kids.” The pain in his voice was real and jagged, baggage that would wear him down. She knew, having carried that same kind of weight for so long. “I just know a little about a lot, and this is one of those. My sister’s first child was the same, and her husband talked a dozen times about the miracle worker nurse who fixed it by getting Patty out of bed. Figured it was worth a try.”

  Another contraction hit, and she closed her mouth, breathing in and out through her nose, slowly. “Mmm.” Without the horrendous back pain, she could stay ahead of it even as it swelled, going with the pain as it went past cramping that would have doubled her over, rising until every muscle was strung tight before it ebbed. She groaned again, unable to keep the sounds quiet. “Mmm.” The contraction backed off much slower this time, her uterus staying rigid under her skin as she trailed her fingertips back and forth across it, distracting herself from the pain.

  There was noise in the hallway beyond the door, and then Debby was there, hands full of all kinds of things. “Doc’s on his way. I’ve got ice chips and an ice bag. The squat bar isn’t anywhere to be found, which probably means maintenance tucked it behind something in some closet. I’ve got a call in to Dale to ask about it, but who knows when he’ll come out of the woods today.” Her steps paused a beat as she took them in, but then she was back to business. “Good move, Oscar. You’re a champ. Lindsay, I need to ask a few questions but nothing too tough. You don’t have to move. I’ll come to you for what I need.”

  Once everything was arranged on a rolling table, Debby dragged it across the room and squatted down next to Lindsay. The nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm, left it dangling as she held a device to Lindsay’s forehead, humming when it beeped. Then she pressed firmly on her feet and watched for a moment, mouth moving silently, did something at her ankles, made the same silent counting thing before she whipped her stethoscope from around her neck, and pumped the bulb on the blood pressure cuff to take a reading.

  Through all of it, Oscar’s fingers never stopped moving. He’d gone from her temples down to the back and sides of her neck, then across her shoulders and over the upper curves of her arms. Everywhere he touched, he left behind a relaxed lethargy that Lindsay knew wouldn’t last.

  “Lindsay, do you know when you’re due?”

  “A week. My dad’s birthday.” No matter the circumstances surrounding this pregnancy, he would have loved a grandchild.

  “You want me to call him?” Debby’s question was gently probing, and Lindsay shook her head slowly.

  “He’s been gone not quite two years now.” She closed her eyes. “There’s nobody, sorry.”

  “Nothing you have to be sorry about.” Oscar’s gruff voice soothed her. “And you’re not alone. Not today. I got you, Lindsay.”

  Debby’s voice had resumed her down-to-business tone, something Lindsay realized helped make the questions less personal. “How long have you been in labor?”

  Lindsay considered, then tallied up the hours before sharing. “Yesterday morning. When I woke up, it felt like a mule kicked me in the back.”

  “Yesterday morning?” Oscar’s voice was disbelieving, and she glanced up to see his jaw had grown tight.

  “Yeah. The morning news was on the radio. I’d read it takes a long time for first-time moms, so I stayed there until the pain got so bad.” After a while even reclining on the hotel bed hadn't been restful, so Lindsay had found herself pacing circles around the tiny suite of rooms. She turned her gaze back to Debby, searching for answers in her expression. “Did I do wrong? Did I hurt my baby?”

  “No, honey. You did right. Labor’s always easier in familiar surroundings, so it’s good you were at home.” Home, Lindsay silently echoed the incorrect word with an agonizing sadness before forcing herself to listen to Debby’s next question. “Did you have any care, honey?”

  “I went to a cli
nic for a few months. I take my vitamins, and they did all the tests and stuff. But I had to leave Dallas, and I’ve…kind of skipped around.” That was an understatement, because she’d been following cash-paying freelance and temporary jobs, living in extended stay hotels until she had to find another position and move again. “Mayhan, the city here hired me to do a campaign for them. I’m supposed to have my first meeting tomorrow.”

  “That’ll have to wait.” Debby wasn’t looking at her, so she didn’t see how her words hit hard. Without that job, Lindsay couldn’t afford to stay anywhere, and her meager savings wouldn’t keep a child in diapers for long. “I’m going to check you again.” She turned back with a glove on one hand, fingers shining with whatever she’d doused them with. “Hold still, Lindsay.”

  Just as she said that, the biggest contraction so far hit Lindsay hard, and she bowed forwards with the force, her elbows nearly skidding off Oscar’s legs. He caught her, hands under her arms as he hauled her back against his chest.

  “Oscar,” Debby said, holding her hand up, gaze fixed between Lindsay’s legs. “We need her in that bed.” A pause, and Lindsay quit listening because her body was demanding she do something. Something specific. She tightened her hands around Oscar’s knees and hunched over more, chin to her chest. “Now, Oscar. She’s gonna have that baby.”

  The room shifted and swung around, and she lost her grip as Oscar moved. Arms under her knees and behind her back, he lifted her against his chest and a moment later was gently depositing her on the bed. Her hands immediately went to the rails he and Debby raised at the sides of the bed, and Lindsay planted her feet before pulling hard, straining. “Ohh.”

  “Doc gonna make it?” Oscar’s question should have frightened Lindsay, but she was focused on what was changing inside her. The intentional demands of her body were shaping into something. The straining lasted another few seconds before she fell backwards, panting. Debby must have answered him, because his clipped, “Okay. Tell me what to do,” caught her off guard. Staring up at him, she felt another swell of whatever was happening move through her. “Deb, help me out here.”