Bo & Ember

by Andrea Randall

  It was nearing dawn, and we’d arrived at the birthing center an hour earlier, after spending the night in our home trying to relax and get as far along in the process as we could. I say “we,” but it was all her. She was magnificent. The baby had been hanging out, growing beautifully inside Ember for forty weeks and one day, and it was finally time to meet him.

  The contractions had started late afternoon the day before. Ember had called it “cramping,” but her mother and Willow kept a close eye. She was past due, after all. Sure enough, we tried to go to bed that night and Ember couldn’t get comfortable. We encouraged her to rest, knowing it was about to happen.

  I couldn’t rest, either, but none of that mattered as I watched her take her masterfully trained yoga breaths as she labored with our baby.

  “You’re doing amazing, love,” I coached in a whisper as she rocked side to side on a huge medicine ball, resting her head on my chest as I sat in front of her.

  When the contraction was over, Ember looked up and grinned, her cheeks rosy with exertion. “That one was a bitch.”

  “Ember,” Raven playfully disciplined as she quickly worked Ember’s long hair into a braid.

  Ember rolled her eyes. “Now is not the time, Mother. Not the time.”

  Monica’s eyes widened as she sat in the chair by the window. “Shit’s gettin’ real now. She’s losing her sense of humor. When I stopped laughing at Josh’s jokes, April was born an hour later.”

  “I remember,” Ember nodded, allowing a brief smile to cross her lips before chewing on some ice.

  Two years ago, somewhere in the insane time between Bo & Ember being released and our tour starting, April Rose Dixon had come into this world, with Josh and Ember by her mother’s side.

  Ember and I had been in New York for a slew of pre-tour interviews when she got the call that Monica was close to delivery. Like the best friend she’d always prided herself on being, Ember dropped everything and left New York within twenty minutes, arriving at the hospital in time to see April be born.

  I’d stayed back to field more interview questions, knowing that this was something Ember and Monica needed to go through together, even though it was also a Josh and Monica thing. Monica had been hesitant with Ember through her entire pregnancy, and finally, when her daughter was born, Monica burst into tears and said while she couldn’t, in good conscience—no offense, she’d said—name her daughter November, she wanted to honor her best friend in some way. So, April it was.

  While Ember couldn’t stay at Monica’s bedside for long, given our professional responsibilities, Monica, Josh, and their infant daughter were in attendance for our Fourth of July show that year in Central Park. Baby April was swaddled against Monica’s chest as Monica danced and swayed along to the music she’d been such a part of. Our history.

  The entire tour was an epic success. Our album flew to places on the chart I’d never thought we’d be, and Celtic Summer was always near us numbers-wise. That we’d made the chart at all was head-spinning enough. Ember got pregnant while we were writing and recording our second album the previous summer. We weren’t exactly shocked, since we’d decided to start trying once the tour was over, but that hadn’t stopped the nerves.

  The day Ember found out she was pregnant I’d found her in our “prayer room” crying. She was scared, she’d said. So, we knelt. We prayed and smiled and cried until we both felt better.

  During the pregnancy, Ember had decided that she’d save the placenta and plant it with a tree—or something. I was still fuzzy on the details, but the point was, Ember had asked if we could sprinkle the ashes of our angel baby into the ground when we planted the tree.

  There was nothing to decide on. It was a “yes” immediately from me. Ember’s careful thought and planning on the matter was so sincere, I knew it meant a lot to her, and it seemed like the most beautiful way to honor both of our children at once. The one we never got to meet, and the one we’d soon bring home.

  “Shit,” Ember hissed under her breath as her hand gripped around mine. “Another one already.”

  “Just breathe. You’ve got this.” I took a deep breath of my own, anxiety and anticipation bursting at the seams.

  Willow, who’d flown out with Raven two weeks earlier rose to her feet and took Raven’s place behind Ember, pressing her hands low on Ember’s back.

  Ember groaned in apparent relief. “How could that possibly feel so good?”

  Willow grinned. “Because I know what I’m doing.”

  After assisting in the production of Celtic Summer’s debut album, Willow had decided the music industry wasn’t for her. During her time spent with us after the miscarriage, Willow had developed a deep passion for maternal care. She’d spent the previous year becoming certified as a doula. I barely understood the definition, but I didn’t care, because whatever Willow was doing was helping Ember through this intense experience.

  “I’m going to get some tea,” Raven said as she stretched her arms overhead.

  “I’ll go with you,” Monica answered, standing from her chair and revealing a barely swollen stomach.

  Halfway through Ember’s pregnancy, Josh and Monica announced they were pregnant with their second child. Ember and Monica got to go through pregnancy together after all, even if it wasn’t the way either of them had thought it would be. Once they exited the room, the midwife came in.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked hopefully.

  “Like I have a human barreling through my body trying to escape,” Ember replied dryly. “There is so much damn pressure.”

  Willow suppressed a laughed as she continued massaging Ember’s back.

  “She’s doing great,” Willow encouraged. “The contractions have been really close for the last half hour.”

  And, she really was doing great. It seemed like forever ago that we’d sung on stage together for the first time, seconds after we’d met. That girl was still there, inside the forest green eyes of my wife, but she had morphed into a stronger, more confident, soulful woman. Pride didn’t begin to describe how I felt about her.

  The midwife nodded and asked Ember to shift onto the bed for a moment so she could do a “check.” That in itself made me queasy, and Ember didn’t seem to take too kindly to it, as evidenced by her death grip on my hand.

  “Perfect.” The midwife smiled as she took off her glove and Raven and Monica walked back in. “Whenever you feel the urge, you can push.”

  Ember’s eyes shot immediately to Monica as she said, “Now shit just got real.”

  A half-hour later, Ember had moved positions several times. From squatting, to being on her hands and knees, she pushed with everything she had.

  She’d told me throughout her pregnancy that she didn’t expect much in the way of coaching from me, and that’s why she’d asked Willow to come as her doula. That was a blessing, because I was speechless from being in awe, and a little terrified about what was going on. All she’d asked was that I be there for emotional support, and I was doing the best I could.

  “Okay,” Willow said calmly. “The head is right there, Ember. Just a couple more pushes and he’ll be out. You’re doing amazing.” There were tears in Willow's eyes and a slight tremble in her voice, but she kept her composure.

  Ember took a deep breath and turned her head to look at me as I stood next to her bed, my hand on her shoulder. “Okay, I want to turn over and sit up. Bo, can you sit behind me? To, like, support my back?”

  It was the first direct request she’d had of me through the whole process, and I was overjoyed that it seemed to be something I’d be able to handle. As Willow and the midwife helped guide Ember to her desired position, I slid off my shoes and got in the bed, helping to ease Ember into a comfortable position.

  “Ugh,” she groaned as she threw her head back. “I have to push.”

  Willow eyed me intensely. “Sit forward to help keep her upright. He’s really close, okay?”

  Ember looked over her shoulder. “Bo, I’
m scared.” There was a vulnerability in her eyes I couldn’t ignore.

  I kissed her temple and swallowed my own fear. “This is the end, Em, okay? You’ve got this. I’m right here.”

  Ember nodded, fresh determination settling across her face. My heart raced as I watched sweat trickle from Ember’s neck down the center of her back. Her ribcage expanded as she drew in a huge breath, and her hands tightened around my knees as she leaned forward and pushed.

  “Oh, God…” she moaned quietly, never reaching the volume of a yell.

  “Excellent, Ember,” the midwife said as she watched carefully. “Okay, blow, blow…”

  Raven and Monica moved to the end of the bed and started tearing up. Initially I felt at a disadvantage, out of the loop as to what was going on. That was until I heard Ember’s final cry and I looked down to see her reaching forward and pulling our son the rest of the way out of her body.

  “Oh my God,” I blurted out as Ember collapsed back into my body, our screaming newborn son on her chest.

  “Bo…” Ember craned her neck to look me in the eyes. Her smile was now exactly like her mother’s as her eyes filled with tears. I’d never been more in love with her than that exact moment. Except the second after. And the one after that. Somewhere in my soul, I knew that feeling would continue forever. Each second, as they all had, would be better than the last.

  I felt like my chest was going to explode. Never in the history of my life had I seen anything more beautiful than the sight of my perfect wife holding our newborn baby. Our son. All I could do was cry. I knew there were all kinds of things in the birth plan I probably should have been paying attention to. Something about delayed cord cutting and how to save the placenta, but nothing else mattered at all as I listened to the blissful cries of Jackson Spencer Cavanaugh.

  “Hey, buddy,” I finally managed through intense tears, reaching my hand over Ember's and rubbing my thumb across his cheek. “I love you so much. Your mom’s amazing, you know that?”

  His strong cries drowned out every other sound in the room. I wanted to wrap him up, take him home, and never let him out of my sight. I had this primal urge race through me that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. As I watched the way Ember smiled at him, I saw every dream I’d ever dreamt fulfilled.

  Ember chuckled through a soft cry. “You’re amazing.” She lifted her chin, kissing me on the lips before kissing our son’s head. “Hey, Jax, don’t let him fool you. Your dad is pretty incredible, too.”

  Surrounded by family, old and new, I held Ember as she held our son, and we prepared to embark on our most incredible journey yet.

  In The Stillness

  Nocturne (with Charles Sheehan-Miles)

  Something's Come Up (with Michelle Pace)

  November Blue

  Ten Days of Perfect

  Reckless Abandon

  Sweet Forty-Two

  Marrying Ember

  Bo & Ember

  I’d like to thank:

  Randall’s Readers, first and foremost. Your DAILY enthusiasm for my writing and these characters kept me going on some pretty angsty self-pitying days. Your humor, encouragement, and love is something I wish every author could experience.

  Randall’s Bitchin’ Betas. You guys have always been there to call me out, tear me apart, and encourage me. The readers should thank you as much as I do. There are pieces of you throughout this story.

  Erica Ritchie, from Erica Ritchie Photography. Your work on the photos for this series has consistently exceeded my expectations. To have a unique cover is one thing. To have a unique and beautiful cover is quite another. Thank you for your vision and talent.

  Lori Sabin. Thank you for walking through this series with me. Working with you as my editor has made me a better writer. I learn something new with each project. Moreover, you’re a dear friend and I will forever cherish you.

  Charles Miles. Sure, you formatted the book, and it’s lovely. Truly. Yes, you designed the cover, and it’s breathtaking. But, you did the most important job of all in loving me. All of me. The crazy, the irrational, the excited, the reckless. But you loved me most by giving me the support to see this through, in spite of (and maybe because of) your knowledge of how emotionally challenging this career can be. You never let me pull back when I’m scared. You only lead me forward. A partner in every sense of the world.

  I want to thank all of my “author friends.” What a crap term, huh? You all know that you’re more than that. I know you’re more than that. Texts, chats, messages, and the rare hug are what bind us together and keep us pressing forward. This industry is hard, kids. Chin up, dig in, and never compromise who you are for what you think you want. “I vow.” * wink *

  Finally, I want to thank you, the reader. Those of you who fell in love with my very first published novel, “Ten Days of Perfect”, have helped me become the writer I am today. Your enthusiasm for these characters is the reason the series became what it did. I will miss these characters as much as you do. But, trust me, there are exciting things on the horizon, and I’m honored to have you all by my side.

  If you enjoyed this book, please share it with a friend, write a

  review online, or send feedback to the authors!

  www.andrearandall.com

  Copyright © 2014 Andrea Randall.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ISBN 9781632020765

  Edited by Lori Sabin

  Cover and interior design by Charles Sheehan-Miles

  Cover Photo by Erica Ritchie

  Permission for use of song lyrics to “Heaven When We’re Home” given by Ruth Moody

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Books by Andrea Randall

  Acknowledgements