Infinity.

by Layne Harper

  Then, I hear Jenny’s voice above the rest, “Colin will love it.”

  That stops me. For some reason, hearing Jenny’s opinion means more to me than the rest of the gangs’. Sometimes her constant honesty is refreshing.

  I turn back around and step out on the balcony. I’m doing this for Colin. I’m doing this for Colin. Janis pulls me into a sideways hug. “I have to say, Caroline, that this is one bet that I’m sure you don’t mind losing.”

  She’s right. Colin told me once that he’d walk through fire for me. Apparently, I love him enough to wear Dallas Cowboy boots and his jersey made into a dress on one of the most important days of his life.

  The streets of Downtown are packed with people. I mean, packed like sardines in a can. It’s been about thirty-six hours since Colin and the boys brought the Vince Lombardi Trophy home to Dallas, and the metroplex is buzzing with excitement. I’m sure that some of these people are still drunk from Sunday.

  Chelsea chimes in, “Can you believe the mayor declared today a holiday?”

  Jenny adds, “I’ve heard they’re expecting over a million people to either watch the parade on TV or line the streets. It’s not like any work has gotten done in the last couple of days anyway.”

  The parade will pass under our balcony and end at a ginormous stage that’s been set up near our hotel. Some famous local bands will play music. Then the team owner, head coach, Colin, and a few of the other players will address the crowd.

  Because Big Bertha has become the unofficial mascot for the team, Colin will be riding in the bed of the truck, showing off his MVP trophy. Some poor police officer has been tasked to drive her. Colin worried last night that she might break down, which is a very legitimate concern. He seems to be the only one that the old girl will start for these days. We laughed about her stalling in the middle of the parade, and him having to jump out of the bed of the truck to lay his magic hands on her. He reassured me that the two of them would have a nice chat on the way into town this morning. As a precaution, his mechanic will be riding shotgun.

  Colin winning the Super Bowl was the culmination of his Hall of Fame career. I was thrilled that I could be there and share the moment with him. Realizing my own goals has been such a sense of personal accomplishment. Having the opportunity to watch the man that I’m madly in love with make his dream come true had been one of the greatest moments of my life.

  Liza leans over and pretend-whispers, “The dress wouldn’t look nearly as bad if you didn’t have that gigantic belly in the way.”

  I look down at my stomach. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my feet without leaning over. I tease her back. “I don’t think that it has anything to do with my stomach, and everything to do with the dress designer.”

  She gently pushes me and laughs. “You look good. I stand by my statement. You’re simply a snake that swallowed a basketball.”

  Janis chimes in and agrees. “I gained almost seventy-five pounds with Marley. Beached whales were cuter than me. And trust me, I let Clay know every single day just how miserable I was.” She laughs at the memory. “You look awesome, Caroline.”

  “Auntie Charlie, I think you should name the baby Marley. It’s the perfect name for a boy or a girl.” She’s beaming.

  “Well, sweet pea, we’re going to have to discuss that with Uncle Colin. He still wants Bertha for a girl and Bert for a boy,” I tease. Colin and I are not finding out the sex of our baby, which has led to many spirited arguments over names. As of right now, we aren’t even in the same baby-naming book, let alone agreed on anything.

  “She’s naming the baby Brad if it’s a boy, and Brandy if it’s a girl. Everyone knows this.” Brad offers his two cents with his know-it-all wink and a raised champagne glass.

  Then out of nowhere, Jenny says, “Fuck off, Brad. If it’s a boy, it can be Brad. If it’s a girl, it’s Jennifer.” Jenny cares about the baby’s name? That’s a new one. Colin’s assistant is full of surprises.

  “Geez, Jenny,” I reprimand. “Not in front of Marley.” Fortunately, Clay has a mouth that makes sailors blush, so it’s nothing that she hasn’t heard before. But still, I don’t want Jenny teaching my child dirty words. That’s, at the very least, her daddy’s job.

  “Argue later, kids. We’ve still got at least two weeks before he or she is here.” I laugh at my crew. If you’d have told me a couple of years ago that Liza, who was angry I wasn’t Sasha the first time I met her, Janis, who only knew that I broke Colin’s heart, Chelsea, the most selfish self-centered person in the universe, Brad my overly gay assistant, and Jenny, who’s a hornet’s nest would be my support system and the ones that I chose to share in this moment with Colin and I, I would’ve said you were mental. Yet, here we are. One big dysfunctional family.

  Brad goes inside to find a chair for me so I can sit down. I’m still performing surgeries which requires I stand for sometimes up to five hours straight, but it’s become very obvious in the last couple of days that I’m going to have to take leave. I can feel my feet swelling in these boots. I say a silent prayer in hope that I can get them off after Colin has seen me.

  I glance down the row of balconies on the front of the hotel and see a lot of people that I know. Colin invited the players’ wives, girlfriends, and families to watch the parade from our hotel rooms. Colin’s parents are on the balcony next to us with a group of their friends from Colin’s hometown. I catch his mom’s eye and wave. I’m still not her favorite person.

  She hated Colin and I living together, but there was much more to it, I’ve since found out. Susan blames me for Colin’s first marriage, and the disaster that it was. If she only knew about the prescription pills and overdose. Not even her first grandchild would get me back in her good graces.

  Colin’s dad is much friendlier, and smiles. I walk over to the edge of the balcony and lean across the railing to give him a hug.

  “How’s my grandkid?”

  “Growing and moving like his daddy,” I reply with a smile as I stroke my hand over my taut stomach.

  “It’s got to be boy. Colin was so active. Susan would have to push him back to remind him to be gentle,” John says, getting a little glassy-eyed as he reminisces about his only child.

  As if on cue, Baby McKinney gives me a firm kick to the ribs. I wince, and rub my side. Then, I feel a tightness spreading across my abdomen—one of the many Braxton Hicks contractions that have plagued me for the last month. I almost didn’t make it to Miami for the Super Bowl. I thought these were labor contractions, and spent a night in the hospital before I was assured that everything was fine and sent home.

  Poor Colin was beside himself. He was already in Miami doing all the pregame press. I wouldn’t let him fly home until we knew if this was indeed show time. Brad was my rock, holding my hand and keeping Colin updated. Fortunately, Doctor Starr got on the phone with Colin and explained that Braxton Hicks contractions are nature’s way of preparing the body for labor, and I was perfectly fine. Just to be on the safe side, she chose me an obstetrician in Miami and forwarded him a copy of my medical file.

  Colin rented me a private plane to travel to Miami so I could stay lying down, and so our family could travel together. Between my overzealous assistant, who’s also an RN, and Colin’s mother, I thought that I might toss them or myself out of it. She kept telling me about her pregnancy with Colin, and Brad tried to time contractions that weren’t really contractions. I love them both—dearly, but I wanted to scream Have you all forgotten that I’m a doctor?

  On the other balcony to my left is Colin’s management team. After Colin fired Mark, he hired Aiden to be his business attorney and manager. So far, it’s worked out well, with Colin just using Mark on a case-by-case basis, like the whole walking out of the ESPY-Awards fiasco. We haven’t needed a full-time public relations person because Jenny can reply, “Mr. McKinney and Doctor Collins do not comment on their private life” just fine. Colin has gone so far as to refuse to confirm the pregnancy, or that we’re e
ven married. After many discussions and bamboozlement—according to Colin—he finally agreed that me keeping my maiden name in the professional world was a great idea. Okay. Maybe not a great idea, but it was an idea that we could both live with.

  One reporter asked him after a game how I was feeling. His reply was, “I don’t comment on my private life.” The reporter pushed on and said, “I saw your wife. She looks ready to pop.” What was Colin’s answer? “I’m sure Doctor Collins will be amused to know that the media thinks that she looks fat in her pants.” I felt sorry for the reporter. Even though I was about seven months and clearly looked pregnant, the guy had a horrified expression on his face.

  Aiden’s balcony is filled with other clients that his firm represents, and some junior attorneys. Mark notices me and gives me a slight wave.

  Rachael is off doing what Rachael does best; becoming the ruler of the known world. My best friend is a piece of work who’s only gotten more awesome as the years have gone by.

  Aiden motions for me to come over so I walk to the other end of our balcony. “How ya doin’?”

  I smile. “I’m hanging in there. I just wish the kid would quit kicking me, and these damn contractions would stop.”

  Aiden’s eyes grow wide with worry. “I’m okay. They’re just pretend contractions, but damn they hurt.” I smile reassuringly at him trying to communicate that I am okay.

  It must work, because he changes the subject. “How was the douchebag this morning?”

  Their terms of endearment for each other no longer faze me. “Quiet. Reflective. He’s ready for the parade to be over, and everyone to leave town. He begged me to stay in bed all day with him tomorrow.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. But, I told him I had to go to the hospital to check on patients,” I say with a wink. “I can’t let him have his way that easily.”

  Aiden laughs and shakes his head.

  God. Another Braxton Hicks contraction hits me, and it takes all of my strength to not double over. I wince, grab on to the balcony railing, and clench my jaw, waiting for it to pass.

  “You okay, Caroline?” Aiden asks.

  “Yeah. I just need to sit down,” I reply as I gingerly walk to the chair that Brad brought out for me.

  The crowd erupts in loud cheers as the first of the police cars, with sirens blaring, come into sight, announcing that the parade will be here shortly.

  Marley claps her hands and excitedly rushes to the balcony railing for a better view. Janis put her hair in two ponytails that look like pompoms. She’s wearing Colin’s jersey. Cute is an understatement. She’s precious!

  Colin and Big Bertha are at the rear of the parade so I settle in knowing that it’s going to be awhile. Brad brings me a glass of water that I slowly begin sipping.

  As the first fire truck passes us, an odd feeling washes over me. Not bad. Just odd. There’s no better way to explain it. I take another sip of water, hoping that it’ll help settle me. I reach up and touch my infinity necklace that Colin gave me the day after we reconciled in Los Angeles. The infinity symbol is an eight, which is Colin’s football number, turned on its side. The necklace has remained on my neck without being removed since that day. It’s my talisman, and brings me unbelievable reassurance. I need that right now.

  Then, another Braxton Hicks contraction hits me. It literally takes my breath away. I grasp my stomach, saying a silent prayer that my muscles will relax quickly. I try to mask how intense it is, but Janis catches the grimace on my face. “You okay?”

  “These practice contractions,” I say putting air parenthesis around practice, “are killing me today.”

  “You sure they’re practice?”

  “Yeah. I was examined yesterday when we arrived home from Miami. I’m not even dilated,” I reply through my grimace.

  Our conversation is cut short when a high school marching-band drowns out our voices. Next, the first float of players pass under us, and confetti rains from the sky. Our balconies go crazy, yelling and waving at the boys. When they spot so many friendly faces in one place they begin acting extra silly. There are huge smiles, and lots of whoops and cheers and waves. A couple of the players spot me in my promised garb, and point and smile. It makes this ridiculous get-up worth it.

  This is so amazing. The roar of the crowd is deafening. Colin and the boys have made this crowd—hell, this city—go this crazy. I love it. My heart floods with pride for my man.

  Almost simultaneously, another contraction hits me, and makes it impossible for my lungs to expand. I put my head between my knees and beg the pain to let up.

  Then it dawns on me. I know what this is. My previous Braxton Hicks contractions never felt like this. This is the early stage of labor. Oh, God! I can’t have this baby yet. Its daddy is in the bed of his truck in the middle of a parade. I have a mental talk with my body and this baby. I’m not leaving the parade early. My husband will see me in this ugly-ass number-eight Dallas Cowboy’s jersey dress that I promised to wear as part of our marriage vows. He will see me clapping and cheering for him. He’ll know I’m here, and I’m fine, because he’s not leaving his victory parade early for me or for this baby.

  I also reason that I’m a first-time mom, and our labor will take a notoriously long time. I’m fine.

  I stand up when I see Big Bertha in the distance, and mentally say a thank-you prayer to God for not letting her break down. She’s still chugging along, polluting the environment with everything that she’s got.

  The crowd noise reaches a deafening pitch, making my ears ring as Colin and the old girl pass by them. I can barely see my husband through all the confetti, turning and waving to his adoring public. I know exactly when he spots the hotel though, because he begins to ignore the crowd and search for me. He holds a hand up to his forehead, blocking out the sun as he scans the balconies. I watch his gorgeous wavy dark-blonde hair catch the light. He takes my breath away. See, baby? That’s your daddy. The one that everyone is yelling for. I make it easy on him, and stand up waving both of my arms like a raving lunatic.

  When his sparkling green eyes spot me, he points in my direction, or should I say at my dress, and gives me a thumbs up. His gorgeous half-smile, which is all mine, cocks his right cheek up. Wearing the dress and boots were worth it. Seeing the happiness on his face floods me with love. I touch my infinity necklace hoping that he gets my hidden message that I love him.

  He places his left hand over his heart showing me the engagement/wedding ring with our secret meaning.

  I want to scream to the world, “See that man right there? He loves me. Colin fucking McKinney is in love with me.” What an amazing feeling.

  Just then, another contraction hits me. It takes everything in my power to not double over, but I don’t. By God, I’ll give him no reason to question if I’m okay.

  I force a smile on my face and cup my belly, which makes his smile even larger, if that’s possible. Next he points and waves at his parents, and then he finds Aiden and very discreetly flips him off while he pretends to scratch his nose.

  Once Big Bertha has passed us, I sit back down, so grateful for the chair. I decide to time my contractions and see how far apart they are. The bands are going to play while the players get unloaded from the floats and make their way to the stage. Colin is going to be one of the last to speak. He hasn’t let me read his speech, and I’m dying to hear it.

  Another contraction hits me as I suck in a huge gulp of air and squint my eyes. My muscles begin to relax as the tightness in my abdomen loosens up.

  Chelsea stares at me with wide eyes. “What’s up? You look green.”

  “Thanks,” I reply tartly. “You need to pluck your eyebrows.” Fortunately, my sister’s vain enough to worry about her unibrow and forget about me for a few minutes.

  I settle back in my chair and note the time. Just when I’ve convinced myself that I was wrong and these are just Braxton Hicks contractions, it hits me—a contraction mixed with the worse stomach cramp that I
’ve ever felt. I stand up and make my way towards the hotel room’s bathroom. I need a moment of privacy, because there is definitely something going on that’s making me feel funny.

  I’m waddling as fast as I can when I feel a pop. Seconds later, a huge gush of water begins flowing out of me, soaking the carpet, my boots, and well, everything. There’s no sticking my head in the sand any longer. My bag of amniotic fluid just broke. I’m having our baby in the next twenty-four hours, celebration party or not.

  I stand there like a moron.

  In residency, I had to do a rotation in labor and delivery. I’ve watched women’s water break, and I’ve had to break the bag of fluid myself. I know scientifically what’s going on. However, that doesn’t diminish my panic one bit.

  “Brad,” I scream, but he can’t hear me over the crowd noise. I’m paralyzed, and scared to death. I keep staring down at my soaked dress, boots, and the green-fern carpet. I want Colin. He’d have picked me up and carried me to the car by now. We’d be on the way to the hospital while I was yelling at him to slow down. Then, I’d be repeating my mantra: first-time mother’s babies are notoriously slow. It’ll probably be tomorrow before the child comes.

  Instead, another contraction hits me, and I reach out for the chest of drawers next to me to steady myself. Once I can breathe again, I yell louder for Brad. When his auburn hair turns, and I see his face, I want to cry. I instantly know that he’ll take care of me. He’ll know what to do.

  Brad comes rushing to me with his eyes bugging out of his head. When he’s close enough to hear me, I burst into tears. “My water broke.”

  Brad immediately goes into nurse mode. He grabs his phone and calls my doctor who Colin made him put in his favorite’s list. While the phone is ringing he yells for Jenny, which causes everyone to turn around.

  Jenny and the rest of the gang immediately recognize what has just happened. Janis ushers Marley past me and out of the room while she keeps asking what’s wrong with Auntie Charlie. Liza takes my hand, unparalyzing me, and leads me to the bathroom. “It’s okay, Caroline,” she says over and over as she helps me walk. “You’re going to be just fine.”