by Bella Knight
"Whoa," said Callie. "Awesome."
"Not stopping with the rubbing," said Ivy.
"Sorry," said Callie.
They took turns --feet, calves, knees. They worked up, and they did it together, with fingers running up and down each other's thighs. Callie stopped to kiss Ivy deeply. They held onto each other. Callie leaned back first, and pressed on Ivy's button. Ivy arched her back, groaned, and then screamed. She came in a liquid rush. Callie took her time, kissing her way down Ivy's neck, sucking each breast. She kissed her way down Ivy's stomach.
Ivy groaned, but not with pleasure. "I'm fat. One kid, not even two like Katya, or three like Ghost. One, and I'm a sagging, stretch-marked mess."
Callie leaned forward, and kissed Ivy's lips. "We have gorgeous babies. You are the most beautiful and best woman in the world. You sing like an angel, curse like a sailor, and ride a Harley like the best biker babe there is."
"Well, fuck," said Ivy, and kissed her back.
Callie kissed her way back down, and Ivy grabbed Callie's dark brown hair and ran her fingers through it as Callie found the sweetest spots. Callie used flicks of her tongue, then kissed and sucked until Ivy screamed again and again. Ivy avidly slid down the bed, and Callie held Ivy in her arms, playing with the twists in her wife's hair.
"Wanna do the same to you," said Ivy. "Can't move."
"S'okay," said Callie. They slid into sleep.
Ivy woke up in the middle of the night. She stroked Callie's hair, her back, kissed her face, and her neck. She slid her hands to the mounds of Callie's buttocks, and pulled her in close. Callie kissed Ivy, muzzy with sleep, but arched her back and came in big gasps as Ivy's clever fingers slid in between her thighs. Ivy made her come, again and again.
Callie stood, tripped, then stood again. She made it to the bathroom, and flicked on the light. "Omigod," she said.
"What?" said Ivy. She came in, looked where Callie was pointing. "Oh. My. God. It's silver. And sparkly. And has the little rainbow things on the ceiling."
"Fill it up," said Callie. So, Ivy went over, found the stopper, then turned on the hot water. "Warm or lobster?" asked Ivy.
"Lobster," said Callie. She went back out, grabbed her toiletry kit, and took out a scrubby. "Clean sex," she said, as the huge Jacuzzi tub filled with water.
They used the scrubbies on each other after washing each other's hair and putting in conditioner. They laid, with legs over one another, floating in the hot water. Ivy turned it off, and they scrubbed each other's feet, then legs. They turned, and scrubbed each other's backs. Then, they turned to face each other again, and did arms and fronts. They used special facial scrubs donated by the hotel. They rinsed, head to toe, then found the spots that made each other moan with fingers and tongues. They washed each other again, and Ivy turned on the jets. They relaxed, twisting this way and that, and dozed in the water. Finally, the water got chilly, and they got out. Ivy pulled the plug to drain the tub, and they took turns rubbing lotion on each other and drying each other's hair. Ivy only dried her hair partway, then put in her twists. They put on soft robes and went back to sleep, cradling in each other's arms.
In the morning, they ordered croissants, fruit and coffee for Ivy, and hot chocolate for Callie. It was cute how the beverages came in little pots. They read magazines, watched absurdly funny movies, and spent the day in bed. Lunch was paninis, chips, and sodas; and dinner was excellent Italian food. They ate cheese tortellini with a tomato-Italian sausage sauce, covered with freshly shredded Parmesan, along with rosemary bread and olive oil for dipping.
"My god," said Ivy. "They must have an Italian mama in the kitchen."
They napped, then watched silly movies, ordered chocolate chip and parmesan popcorns, and hot chocolate from the kitchen. They laughed until they cried. They made love, again and again, then had more clean sex in the Jacuzzi. They checked out in the morning, glowing and ready to face having five children once again.
Finishing Touches
Katya and Gregory went through three days of hell. First Luka got sick, then Ivan. Vomiting, fever. Gregory sent Elena to stay at the ranch and help with the ponies to keep her well. The pediatrician gave the infants medications to stop the symptoms.
"It's the flu. Monitor carefully," he said, and sent them home.
Everything came out from both ends. Gregory did as much as he could from home, squashing meetings together so he ran through them. He rushed home, comforted the babies, changed clothes, then rushed back. Then, Katya got sick, and Gregory hired a baby nurse to keep everyone drugged and Katya off her feet. His normally, frighteningly-active wife was pale, drawn, with circles under her eyes. He ordered her to stay in bed. He was terrified when she listened to him and stayed put. He also ate so much vitamin C he thought he would turn into an orange. He drank red ginseng water, something that tasted like tree bark, but his assistant (David Hu) swore by it. The babies recovered, but Katya was exhausted, hugely pregnant, and slept for days. Ace and Lily took turns stealing the babies and feeding her soup, letting her sleep the days through.
Finally, she felt good enough to get up and move around, but Willow was there to clean the house and the baby nurse had her little ones. She had the goodness of Nantan's farm food, but she wanted to cook Russian food; borscht and meat and potatoes. She put on her dress and left on a spring day to go to Wal-Mart, leaving the babies and house behind.
It was good to get out. The air felt good on her face. The vomiting had given her horrible back pains, even a solid Russian peasant woman had trouble dealing with. They had faded with the dawn, so, off she went. She took one of the smaller carts, looking for fresh ingredients. She was getting the sour cream when a wave of back pain, the kind that had been attacking her for days, came back. She gasped, and then her water broke. She leaned on the cart, gripping the handles.
A woman walked by. "I'll get... someone," she said.
She rushed over to a courtesy phone and paged the store manager. The assistant manager showed up, sized up the situation, and got a dress nearly identical to the one Katya was wearing off a nearby rack. She rushed to a cashier, paid for it herself, and found Katya walking toward the bathroom.
"Baby come now. Texted my husband," she said to the astonished woman.
Gregory was listening to Bob Kine, a longtime client, wring his figurative hands, balking at paying for the extra security for the gala for the foundation. And about going to bring water to everyone through desalinization plants to turn seawater into drinkable water. One of his two phones chimed. He saw the message, and his assistant, standing in the doorway, quailed at what came over his boss' eyes. Gregory typed up a list of instructions for his assistant, and called her over.
He pointed to the list, sent it to her, logged off of the network, and said to his client, "Bob, we've known each other how long, now?" Gregory closed down his system.
"Two years," said Bob.
"Have I steered you wrong in that time, Bob?" Gregory pulled off his suit coat, and left it on the chair. He left his cufflinks in his drawer, and locked everything.
"No, you haven't."
Gregory texted for his admin to call 911 and have them go to his wife's location. "Now, this gala will literally save lives, but the whole project could die if you have any bad publicity. Am I right?" Gregory hurried down the hallway, and bounded down the stairs rather than wait for the elevator.
"You are," said Bob.
Gregory got into the company car. "Now, either you sign off on this, Bob, or you lose the chance of excelling. Your entire reputation is built on excellence. My job, Bob, is to provide that excellence for you." Gregory backed out, then got himself past the checkpoint and out of the garage. He drove defensively, weaving in and out of traffic with practiced ease, using the dashboard GPS to weave around traffic.
"Of course," said Bob.
"Maintain excellence, Bob," said Gregory. "Do it by letting me do my job. Approve this, now, and I will get everything ready for you."
Bob dre
w in a deep breath. "Alright, then, I will."
"Good," said Gregory, dodging a suicidal tourist and a UPS truck. "I will talk to you later in the week, Bob. Have a truly excellent day."
"You too," said Bob. "Talk to you then." Gregory hung up, then called the midwife, only to find her at another birth. He sighed, and slid down a side road.
The first ambulance dispatched to help Katya was T-boned at an intersection. The two EMTs survived, and ran out to help the driver who hit them; a drunken tourist who slammed his chest into the steering wheel. This caused a pileup, and two more ambulances were routed there. Gregory dodged this mess due to his state-of-the-art GPS.
Gregory ran to the women's bathroom. He threw three, twenty-dollar bills at a female stock clerk who was blocking off the bathroom.
"Get me puppy pads, the kind the dogs piddle on, a round plastic tub, distilled water, scissors, plastic gloves, rubbing alcohol, and baby bath soap or wipes," he said, then ran past her as his wife gave a scream and groan at the same time. "Kayta!" he called out, running into the bathroom.
She was in the handicapped stall, panting; the assistant manager with her. Gregory rounded on her. He looked happy to have made it to her in time. He was grateful she was brought into the bathroom, for some much-needed privacy.
"Thanks. When the woman comes in with the puppy pads, lay them all over the floor here," he said. "Then see if you can get a baby bath going." He texted Ace, rolled up his sleeves, and washed his hands, all the time reassuring his wife in Russian.
She screamed back in curse words so vile he suspected the paint would peel. Katya was holding onto the bars in the handicapped stall, and Gregory could see she was crowning.
"Just in time to play catch," he said, holding up his wife's legs. "Now, it is time to push, love," he said. She cursed him in Russian, and pushed.
Ace finished the shelf, and looked at the lines. He received a text, then took off his tool belt, and ran like a bat of hell out the door and down the stairs, leaping down the last four of them. He ran toward his bike, grabbed his helmet, and rode like the wind toward the Wal-Mart, only a few blocks away.
"What the hell?" asked Marco, one of Nico's team, a painter.
Nico grinned. "Ace's baby is coming," he said. They all cheered.
It took two long pushes and two shorter ones, but the baby came out. Gregory cleared her nose and mouth, and she cried.
"Apgar 5," he said. "Good job, love."
He slid her into the water in the little baby bath, the water splashing onto the pee pads, and cut the cord after wiping the scissors with rubbing alcohol. The assistant manager knelt, and carefully wiped her off. The infant gurgled happily.
"It's a girl!" she yelled. The employees holding back the few who knew what was going on, cheered.
"What's your name?" asked Gregory, as he wiped up his wife the best he could, and massaged her belly to help her expel the afterbirth.
"Donna Shars," she said.
"Good job, Donna," he said. "First time delivering a baby?"
She laughed. "Delivered one myself, but first time helping out."
Ace burst passed the onlookers. "Ace," said Gregory. He reached into his pocket, and threw a set of keys at Ace. "Girl, healthy, just cut the cord. Wife always parks to the right, as close to the door as she can. Don't know what's holding up the EMTs. Get your little one to Children's. Donna, give the man his baby."
Donna was confused, but distracted by the afterbirth, so she handed over the little girl, now wrapped in a towel. "You're a gay couple?"
Ace laughed, looking into his daughter's eyes. "She looks like Lily," he said.
"Go away," said Gregory. "Hands full with the wife."
"Got it," said Ace, and scooted out the door, baby in one hand, car clicker in the other. He found the right car, put the baby in the infant seat, and drove to the hospital. He texted Lily while he waited at a light.
The fourth set of dispatched EMTs rushed in, and surrounded Katya. They loaded her onto the stretcher, and the ambulance. Gregory washed his hands again, and texted his assistant to get his wife a private room at a small private hospital nearby, “NOT on the maternity wing,” he texted.
“Baby OK?” texted his assistant.
“Baby fine; en route to Children's,” he texted back. Call and tell them Ace will be there shortly.”
“Will do,” texted back his assistant.
Katya was rushed in, checked out, and sent to her private room when they saw the documentation that Katya was a surrogate and that the baby had gone to a Children's Hospital by private car.
Unfortunately, the other hospital had a nurse that could not get it through her head that Ace was the biological father, that the birth mother was being sent to another hospital, and that Ace wasn't a baby-snatcher. Ace texted both Gregory and Saber before they cuffed him. He tried to show them his phone with the surrogate agreement on it, or have them call Gregory, Katya, or the other hospital to verify. The nurse became incensed and nearly hysterical, drowning out anything Ace had to say. The police officer dispatched to help out, was far too busy calming her down to get her statement to listen to Ace, who demanded to see his biological child, and to know what was happening to her.
Sergeant Joe Pocero showed up and uncuffed Ace. He rounded on the still-screaming nurse. "Nurse... Tolin, is it? You're under arrest," he said. He gave the security guard's cuffs back to him, took out his own, and advanced on her. "For kidnapping and false arrest." He reached out to take her hand.
She squawked, stepping back. "What?"
"This man said, several times, that he was the biological father. Did you do anything to verify this? Take a blood or saliva test, maybe?" She shook her head. "Call the other hospital where Katya, the surrogate, gave birth?" She shook her head. "Looked at the surrogate agreement on his cell phone?" She shook her head again. "Did you take his baby away from him without his permission?" She nodded her head. "So, you're under arrest."
A hospital administrator rounded the corner, buttoning his black suit. "That' the job of Social Services." He looked fifteen years old, with a baby face and a rolling gait.
"Did you call Social Services?" asked the sergeant. Nurse Tolin shook her head again. "Then, you're under arrest." He took another step forward. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back. You have the right to remain silent..."
She finally grasped that she was actually in trouble when the administrator did nothing to stop the arrest. "He's lying!" she said.
"Did you do anything, anything at all, to verify what he said to you?" asked the sergeant. She shook her head.
"No," she said.
"Give this man's child back to him. She should have been examined and immunized by now," he said. "And then, he's leaving. You just lost yourself a customer, and probably a lot of money in a lawsuit."
Denise, the Nighthawk's lawyer, rounded the corner. "Hello Sergeant, hello Ace." She turned to face the nurse and the administrator. "If you're done kidnapping this man's child, he would like her back. We'll take her to people competent enough to recognize his status as a father."
"We apologize for the mix-up," said the administrator. "Can't be too careful."
"Careful is having him sit quietly in the waiting room while you verify your story," snapped the lawyer. "Not putting cuffs on the man and running off with his child without his permission." She rounded on the police officer. "Why the hell did you put cuffs on my client, Officer... Trillbe? Was he threatening anyone? Harming anyone? Threatening to harm anyone?" He, too, looked fifteen, with curly dark hair, brown eyes, and a thin, reedy stature.
"She told me to," he said, pointing at Nurse Tolin. "She said he'd stolen a baby."
The hospital administrator actually put his hands over his eyes. "Denise, the baby will be out here momentarily. Will you settle?"
"Maybe," she said.
The doctor came out, baby in hand. She had a shock of brown hair and huge eyes. Lily rushed in, hugged Ace, and nearly grabbed the infant out of the
doctor's hands.
"Who's she?" asked the administrator.
"The baby's biological mother," said Denise. "I have both their DNA scans in my cell phone, along with their surrogacy agreement. Now, if we can finish with any paperwork in the time it takes for a gnat to bat an eyelash, then we'll be gone."
"Birth certificate," said the doctor. "You'll need one of those. And, she's been examined, and is five pounds, eleven ounces. She's had all the relevant tests and immunizations." She stared down the administrator. "I happen to know the family, and if Miss Hysteria here, had bothered to speak to anyone at all about her suspicions without behaving unprofessionally, this entire unpleasantness could have been avoided." She turned toward Lily and Ace, whose eyes were on their daughter. "She's fine. I talked to Katya, and she's fine too. I had the doctor there hydrate her and give her pain medication, oh, and something to help her sleep more."
"Thank you, Doctor Yu," said Ace. "When do you want to see her again?"
"Two weeks," she said. "Might as well see this mama as well. Soon, you'll have two!"
"Got it," said Ace.
Nurse Tolin quailed at the look the doctor gave her. The sergeant finished putting on her cuffs. "While charging her would be the correct thing to do under the law," said Doctor Yu, "perhaps merely firing her and making sure she never works in a hospital again would be sufficient?" The administrator bobbed his head.
Nurse Tolin threw back her head; the sergeant moved his head aside so she didn't break his nose. "I did what was right!"
"No," said the doctor. "You acted without thinking, and opened up this hospital to liability. Sergeant, she's apparently still not understanding what she did wrong. Go ahead and arrest her." She turned to Ace and Lily. "What's her name?"
"Rose Ivy," said Lily.
"Lovely," said Doctor Yu. "Take good care of her."
"We will," said Ace, kissing his little girl's head.
Lily started getting back pain at three in the morning. Ace helped her walk, and called the midwife, Tatiana.
