A Must for Christmas: A Darling Cove Novella

by Deborah Garland

  “You think?”

  “Do you want me to call Edward to drive you in his chief car, so we don’t have to wait for an ambulance?” He laid his head against her back.

  “You can’t drive me?” she whined and spit into the toilet.

  “I’m shaking too much, Babe.” Greg stood to drench a washcloth with cold water.

  “It’s their wedding night, though.”

  No one had interrupted his wedding night. “I know.” He placed the cloth against her forehead.

  Faith sighed from the cool compress. “But they went back to the house with Julian. So, I’m sure…”

  Greg shook his head; they were debating whether or not his sister was busy consummating her marriage at the moment. Fuck that. He made the call and was glad his sister answered right away. “Skye, I’m really sorry.”

  “No problem. What is it?” She didn’t sound all crazy and out of breath, easing his guilt.

  “Faith is bleeding.”

  “What?”

  “I think she’s in labor.”

  “Okay. I’ll send Edward over with the chief car. Don’t try to drive her yourself.”

  “Call Gwen and Dad, please?”

  “On it.”

  With shaking hands, he ended the call. “Okay. Edward’s on his way.”

  Faith nodded and vomited again.

  Greg sank down beside her and held her shoulders. “Hey… I guess we’re gonna have these babies now.”

  The reaction was not what he expected. She had a moment of calm in the storm around them, and she looked away.

  Greg suspected it had all come too quickly for Faith. Leaving her job had been a sensitive subject, a raw nerve that made her jump when he touched it. “Have some water, Babe.” He lifted Faith, brought her to the sink, and scooped cool water from the faucet into her mouth.

  She swallowed but slacked against him and screeched as her body tensed. Bowing her head, she moaned in obvious pain.

  “Hang on, Faith.” He steered her back into the living room. There he settled her on the sofa and dropped the sleep pants to put on his jeans and sweater. Then he rushed to the basket next to the stairs where he and Faith kept their shoes.

  A bang on the front door and the muffled sounds of Edward’s voice took hold of Greg. He yanked open the door, and his damn, screaming security system’s alarm tore through him.

  “Hey.” Edward rushed inside. “What happened?”

  “I started bleeding and then threw up a little.” Faith squirmed on the sofa.

  Edward went to her quickly and cradled her head in his elbow. “When did this start?”

  “A few minutes ago,” Greg answered.

  “I’m scared. Why does it hurt so much all the time? Aren’t contractions supposed to come and go?” Faith asked in a small voice that trailed off in the end.

  “I’m guessing the babies are shifting and jockeying for position. Looks like it’s a footrace now to get out.” Edward’s lighthearted response eased Greg for a moment.

  Faith bellowed in pain, clutching her lower abdomen, killing Greg’s calm. “Ouch. That hurt.”

  “I have to call the ambulance, Greg.” Even Edward looked worried. “I can’t take her in this condition.” He didn’t wait for a response and pulled out a radio from his dark blue pea coat. “Darling Cove 6-1 on air, I need an ambulance to 17 Seacoast Lane. Alpha. Woman, thirty-five, complications from labor. I need the bus, immediately.”

  Every word crushed Greg. Alpha was the highest alert level. Edward was either being very cautious out of protectiveness for his new sister-in-law or he was nervous.

  If the chief of the fire department was rocked, things didn’t look good.

  The Alpha designation would not only set off the fire station tower alarm, but the police would be notified. His father, who’d gone straight from the wedding to a night shift, was probably not expecting to see an ambulance called out to his son’s house.

  Greg’s chest grew tight. “Damn it,” he spit through clenched teeth and rushed back to his phone, which had been ringing by the time he had it in his hands. “Hi, Dad. Yeah. Faith’s in labor. She has some complications. Edward is here, and he just called an ambulance.”

  “I’m on my way.” Martin’s voice had the calm ring Greg wished he possessed at the moment.

  “Okay.” He held his stomach.

  “She’s gonna be fine. Women have babies every day.” Martin sounded strong, but still a little concerned.

  “Thanks,” Greg managed and ended the call. While Edward checked Faith’s vitals, the ambulance sirens blared in the distance. His eyes trailed over Faith’s body and the thin nightgown, remembering the air outside was frigid. “Should I get her something else to wear?”

  “Just a coat. I don’t want to jostle her around. They’ll put her in a hospital gown when you get there. Do you have a bag packed?” Edward asked Faith.

  “Not really.” Just talking seemed to exhaust her. Her head rested against Edward’s shoulder.

  “Greg, why don’t you get a bag of clothes together for her?”

  “Right.” Climbing those stairs still felt unusual, challenging muscles he’d not used in years.

  In their newly renovated bedroom, the smell of fresh paint tickled his nose whenever he entered and reminded him when he and Faith had seen the finished room for the first time. She pulled him to the carpet and well…

  Damn it. He shouldn’t have got her worked up earlier and just told her no. His inability to control himself jammed at his nerves.

  From the walk-in closet, he pulled down a small overnight bag and rushed to Faith’s lingerie chest. He grabbed a few items from each drawer and mindlessly shoved them into the pink leopard print satchel.

  Walking back toward the steps, he heard voices in his living room. He recognized a few. Cops. They were loud and disruptive. Their heavy footsteps stomped against his new hardwood floors and irritated him. Irrationally.

  Radios crackled and lights outside flashed through his windows. He used to be one of those officers down below intruding on a life. It rocked him to be on the other end this time.

  With the pink bag in his hand, he got to the bottom of the stairs and sucked in a harsh breath. Faith was hoisted up while her terrified eyes searched for him. Damn it. Why hadn’t he stayed with her?

  Pushing away self-incriminating thoughts that were quite useless now, he rushed to her side and placed the colorful bag on the stretcher in between her feet. “I’m here.”

  “Greg, I’m scared.” She held his hand and pulled him closer.

  “It’ll be fine, Babe.” He leaned his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he made out the outline of his father. “Dad!”

  Martin rushed toward him wearing an anxious smile. If he was really worried, he didn’t show it. “The hospital’s been notified. They’re ready for you. I spoke to someone there myself. I told them, you were early.”

  “She’s in a lot of pain,” Greg ground out. “Constant.”

  “I’ll give them that update.” Martin blinked and grabbed his radio. After he spoke to someone on the other end, he looked at all the people setting Faith up. “Let’s get her out of here. Now!”

  It’d been years since Greg heard his father…yell.

  Chapter 3

  December 23, 12:08 AM

  With so many unfamiliar voices and faces around her in the ambulance, Faith was disoriented. She hadn’t considered all the people who would be around her when she gave birth. Since she was having twins, her doctor had shoved an overload of information at her. While she progressed through her pregnancy as expected, this hiccup had her worried.

  “My mom,” she blurted.

  “Skye will call her.” Greg sat next to her, his hand curled around hers. The worried look on his face should have made her more anxious, but he was a mush when it came to her well-being.

  “Greg?” she whispered.

  He leaned against the iron rails of her stretcher. “Yeah?�
��

  “I love you.” She lifted her hand. The taped IV tugged it back, but she found his face. “I’ve always loved you. Just you.”

  His smile always made her melt. “Me too, Babe.”

  “Do you even remember the first time we saw each other?”

  His shoulders tensed up. “At the same time?”

  She nodded. “One day, these little boys are probably going to ask us how we met. We should get our stories straight.”

  He folded his arms. Perhaps he had too much on his mind at the moment. His silence was a slow form of torture, and she needed to speak to forget about the pain.

  Faith’s family had moved to Darling Cove when she was ten. Gwen was her first friend, and when she was invited to the Mallory house to do homework, Faith’s father, who’d been overly protective, approved because Martin was also a police officer.

  “I’ll give you a hint. It was in your house.” Growing up, Faith’s house had been whisper-quiet most of the time—her mother was very reserved and kept to her books. The Mallory house was a carnival in comparison. Voices, televisions, music all swirled around Faith and regularly challenged her equilibrium.

  Greg rolled his eyes. “Narrower, please.”

  “Another hint, it was in your kitchen. Your mother was cooking one of her stews.” Faith’s mouth had watered, smelling savory meat bubbling in the largest pot she ever saw. There were five people to feed, and Mrs. Mallory masterfully orchestrated everything on the stove.

  “Oh, come on. Don’t make me think of my mother’s cooking now. I’m already hungry again, and we’re gonna be here for hours.” Greg squeezed her hand.

  “Your mom asked me to stay for dinner all the time, did you know that?” Faith fondly remembered Elizabeth Mallory’s constant cheery disposition.

  She was such a lovely woman. Her blonde hair was always swept up in a neat bun and her dark brown eyes made Faith crave chocolate kisses. She was also the stay-at-home-mom, Faith knew Greg wanted her to be. Throughout the ‘discussions’, however, Greg had been reluctant to drag his mother into the conversation. Even he knew better than to say, My mother didn’t work.

  Greg tilted his head. “I think I would remember if you were sitting across from me at the dinner table all the time.”

  “I always wanted to. But my dad worked nights then. I didn’t want my mom to eat alone. Most nights, we ate frozen dinners, or my mom just made us some eggs.” Her mother hadn’t bothered with large meals while her father was on duty.

  That hadn’t stopped Mrs. Mallory. Then again, she had three kids to feed.

  “You never told me that, Faith.”

  “I haven’t thought about all this in a while.” Only then did Faith let her thoughts coalesce. Which mom would she want to be like? Madeline Copeland and Elizabeth Mallory, while both cops’ wives and devoted to their families, were very different women. Would Faith’s mother notice if she followed the path of Greg’s mother instead of her?

  “So, one day you were at the house…and what? I came in the kitchen?”

  She grinned, pushing away the pain. “I should have been better prepared the first time I saw your smile.”

  Faith’s insides had gone all gooey when Greg strolled into the kitchen. A rapid fire of sensations hit her all at once as she took him in. He was so tall; sparkling green eyes blinked under golden brown hair. Thick bangs on his forehead curled up at the ends. The rest was brushed back and wet. His white tee-shirt was tucked into jeans, tight, hanging low in the hip area. The burst of citrus scent that hit her senses as he strolled past, stayed with her for years. That afternoon, however, it was so intriguing and powerful, the smell overtook what was cooking on the stove.

  “You came in, walked to the refrigerator, and opened it.” She had gawked at him when he stopped and stared. His back was so wide, and he looked strong. Even for fifteen.

  “Still clueless, Babe.” His mother’s voice, Gregory, we’re eating in less than an hour, had taken on a different octave when speaking to her son.

  Faith took an easy breath. Being off her feet eased the pain. She laid a hand on her stomach. She had two Gregory’s inside her. Would they team up on her? It would be two against one. She’d have to be stronger. And how would she do that if she spent twelve hours a day away from them?

  “Oh!” Faith gasped as the blast of cold air sliced through her when the ambulance doors opened. The lack of windows meant she couldn’t see that they’d reached the emergency room.

  A team swarmed in and prepared to take her into the hospital. The bright lights stung her watery eyes. She was still in a lot of pain, but there was no reason to speak now. Greg was her voice. He relayed to the administrator all that had happened. As quickly as she’d been brought in, she was whisked away. Lights passed overhead, and her husband’s warm hand rested on her shoulder.

  “Here we go, Babe.” Greg’s voice was pleasant and easy going, but the way he pulled at his jacket collar told a different story.

  She dipped her chin to nod, steadying herself to be prepped for a C-Section. It’d already been agreed to since two large babies would be too much for her tiny frame to deal with.

  A strange tickle in the back of her throat quickly crawled forward. “Greg,” she panted. “Something’s happening.” Her wheezing alerted the transport team and an alarm sounded.

  “What’s going on?” Greg shouted, holding on to Faith as her body twitched.

  A nurse took her wrist from the opposite side. “Keep moving,” she ordered the transport team. “Fast.”

  “I can’t breathe,” Faith squeaked out, focusing on the indiscernible words and sentences coming from the nurse as the woman spoke into a radio.

  Nothing made sense. She couldn’t understand one syllable. Either that, or nerves and the pain were playing keep away with her otherwise razor-sharp command of the English language. One word she did finally get.

  Intubate.

  They planned to put her under. Faith wanted to be awake when the babies were born. That decision had just been taken from her. From her and Greg.

  “What’s the problem?” he bit out through a clenched jaw.

  “We need to get these babies out,” the nurse answered him. “That alarm means one of them is in distress.”

  The babies. One of her babies was in distress. It had not even occurred to her that her sons could be in danger. “Greg,” Faith coughed out. “No!”

  He reached out to her but was pushed away once they arrived in the operating room. He stood helplessly watching; his cop eyes had left her as his brain took in what was going on around them.

  There were too many pieces of information to process. Words she didn’t understand were shouted around her, and she surrendered the struggle to keep up. She was lifted onto an operating table under a massive round light while people dressed in blue gowns and masks moved all around her. One, two, three, four, five… She stopped counting people. Shiny silver instruments glinted from a table on the side. She swallowed. Operating tools.

  Next, she was peppered with all kinds of questions, her name, date of birth, directives. Babies’ names. She and Greg hadn’t decided yet. Just another thing they couldn’t agree on. Now her sons would be called, Baby A Mallory and Baby B Mallory when they were born, depending on who popped out first.

  Everyone there had forgotten about Greg. He looked so lost and helpless; she hated seeing him that way. She was sure he wouldn’t want someone to stop helping her and his unborn sons to see if he needed a glass of water. But shouldn’t they be speaking to him? Aren’t fathers supposed to cut the cord-thingy? Shouldn’t he be prepped with a gown and mask too?

  They’d been briefed about what the delivery would be like since it was a planned C-Section. The plan had gone to shit, though. No one in that room looked familiar. Not the doctor she and Greg went through meticulous lengths to find. Now this man she didn’t know was asking Greg to leave.

  That’s not good.

  “I want to stay,” Greg blurted before the doctor
got any further with his explanation. “Faith!”

  A pretty nurse stepped up to him. “Sir, we need a few more doctors in the room, and I’m afraid you’ll be in the way. We want your wife and babies safe. I’ll keep you informed at every step.” She put a hand on his arm. “Plus, I’m sure your family out there is worried. Go be with them, and let us take care of Faith.” The nurse said her name like she wasn’t just another mother giving birth. Perhaps it was personal to them.

  “Okay,” Greg replied gruffly but moved briskly past the medical crew. “Babe, I’m in the way here. They’re gonna put you out. I want this to go smoothly.”

  Two men stood at Faith’s head, while others moved her legs. Her soft, pale limbs, in other men’s hands probably made Greg furious. Even though he was likely to make a scene, Faith needed her husband. “I can’t do this without you.” When her voice cracked, it looked like it smashed him to pieces. “Please can’t he stay?”

  “I’ll be right outside. Let’s just get these babies born so we know everything’s okay.” He brushed her forehead; his tense fingers felt cold and clammy. He took his hand away but she could feel him shaking.

  “I love you, Greg.”

  “I love you more. The whole time, Babe. You thought you loved me? I had you beat by miles.”

  Her lids lowered, she was growing tired and weary. “There will be two more people to love soon.”

  “All of you.” He rested his lips against her mouth and breathed. “You’re all mine now.”

  “Mr. Mallory, we need to get started.” The nurse tugged his arm.

  He nodded but kept his lips on Faith’s. Finally, he gave into the slack of being pulled away but kept his eyes on her as she stared back at him.

  This was happening.

  They weren’t ready. For any of it.

  “Faith, honey, just breathe.” A male voice reminded her she was in an operating room.

  She turned her head, and the pretty nurse with dark eyes looked down at her. “Are you ready to be a mom?”

  “No,” she whined, holding back tears.

  “Hang on.” The nurse stopped the man from lowering a black nozzle over her mouth. “What’s wrong dear? I know you’re early. But do you have your cribs all picked out?”