by M. E. Carter
“Don’t call me Oliver,” he says quickly, startling Pedro.
“What?”
“I don’t like Oliver. I like Oli.”
I bite my lip to stifle a giggle. Obviously, no one told Oli he needed to play along with whatever charade the guys have going. Pedro, though, takes it like a champ.
“I’m sorry. I knew that and called you by the wrong name anyway. I’ll make sure to call you Oli from now on.”
Putting my hand over my mouth, I’m still trying not to laugh. I have no idea why that was funny to me, but it was. Probably because the two men are trying so hard not to break character and leave it to Oli to throw the whole thing off.
“Anyway, we’re here to talk about your work.”
“We’ve been very impressed with you, Oli,” Ace jumps in. “You’re good with the animals and you’ve been a huge help in the milking parlor.”
Oli’s face lights up. “Cause I like the bessies. And they like me. They always lick me when I hook them up.”
I love seeing my son animated like this. Who knew after so many years of worrying about finding him a place in the world, it would end up being on a farm milking cows.
“Well, you do a fine job with them,” Pedro adds. “And since you’re graduating from high school next month, we’d like to offer you a paying job.”
My jaw drops. They want to hire Oli? To be a real employee?
My eyes snap over to Ace’s and he’s got a huge smile on his face. He nods at me, and I know that’s his way of saying this is real. It’s really happening. My boy has shown he has value to the business and his bosses want to continue building on those skills. Knowing they don’t offer jobs to everyone makes me so proud I honestly think I could burst.
Tears well up in my eyes. This is like a dream come true. I open my mouth to respond, but Oli beats me to it.
“Like I’ll get money?”
Pedro sniggers while Ace answers. “Yes. But there’s more to it than that. One of the requirements is you have to stay in the school program to keep this job.”
Oli crinkles his nose and drops his head on the back of the couch. “But I’m almost done with school,” he whines.
“I know,” Ace continues. “But it’s not the same kind of classes, Oli. Instead of going to school every day and coming out to the farm two days a week, you’ll be at the farm every day and go to school two days a week.”
“Do I have to read books at school? I hate reading books. They’re boring,” he grumbles.
“Not as far as I know. The classes you’ll be taking are for adults, which is what you’ll be. Mrs. Johnson will teach you things like grocery shopping and how to pay all your bills. It’s not at all like the classes you take now.”
I bat away a stray tear that rolls down my cheek. Ace glances over briefly, but when he realizes I’m happy, he smiles and returns his focus on Oli.
“There’s more, Oli.”
How could there possibly be more? This time, Pedro answers my silent question.
“One of the perks of being one of our farm hands is you get to live in the bunk house.”
I gasp, while Oli says, “Really? I get to live with the other ranch hands?”
Pedro nods. “Yep. Not right away. You need to get a good six months of work under your belt before we’ll move you in, so you can prove what a good worker you are. But if you do a good job, right after Christmas, we’ll have a bunk just for you.”
“And since your mom and Julie and I will be living in the new house, we’ll be really close if you need us.”
So much for that lone tear. Now a bunch of them are cascading down my face. Not only is my son going to have a real job, he’s going to have a place to live that’s close enough for me to still guide him, but far enough away I won’t be doing it alone anymore.
A sob breaks free and Ace is immediately next to me, arms wrapped around me, charade forgotten.
“These are happy tears, right?” he whispers in my ear, one arm wrapped around my shoulders while the other hand rubs my stomach.
I nod vigorously while getting my breathing under control. “Am I dreaming?”
I feel the deep rumble of his chuckle. “Nope. You are wide awake, my love.”
“Thank you,” I say, because I can’t think of anything else. “Thank you for loving me. For loving us. For giving us everything we never dreamed of.”
“Don’t do that,” he responds. “Don’t thank me. Oli did this all on his own. The rest, that’s just me taking care of my family.”
I nod again and sink into his chest. I didn’t realize until this exact moment how much tension I was still holding on to. But finally, finally I feel like I can relax. We’re going to be okay. All of us are going to be okay.
My alarm has got to be the most annoying sound ever. Worse than the gears grinding in my favorite truck. Worse than that damn heavy metal stuff my office manager listens to. Worse than when Pedro whines about chaffing in the summer.
It probably wouldn’t be bad if it didn’t go off at four fifteen every morning.
Rolling over, I smack the clock, shutting off the noise, then reach for my wife. Unfortunately, she’s already sitting up.
“What are you doing?” I whisper and rub the sleep out of my eyes.
She sighs and rubs her back. “I haven’t been asleep in hours. I might as well do some work.”
“Legs again?”
She nods.
This pregnancy has been rough on Greer. She’s been suffering from horrible restless leg syndrome from the beginning. At first, she could get up and do a few jumping jacks to calm it down. But as her belly and boobs grew, it became more painful to jump than it did to suffer through. I feel terrible for her. She hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in several weeks.
Add onto it, she’s in a lot of pain in general. Somehow the baby is sitting low, which you would never know by how huge she is. She’s so big, we keep asking the doctor if there’s a hidden twin. Because of it, Greer complains of pain in her entire abdominal and genital areas constantly. Well, she doesn’t complain constantly, but I know her pain is non-stop. It’s to the point where sex isn’t enjoyable to her anymore.
Too bad. I would love nothing more than to help get this baby born sooner rather than later. I hate seeing Greer miserable, even if she’s a good sport about it all.
I brush my teeth, swipe on some deodorant, and throw on my work clothes before waking Oli up for his shift. He typically works mornings with me, which helps get him back in bed at an earlier time. That helps all of us. It’s all about balance these days.
Once I know he’s rolling, I make my way into the living area, passing by Greer’s new office space.
We moved in to the new house about a month ago, and it’s proving to be everything we needed. That includes the dedicated office area I made a priority when drawing up the floor plans. While the layout is very different in this house than in hers, I knew she loved her office with the custom book shelves and big window. I made sure it was almost identical here. The biggest difference is her window overlooks the lake.
I’m glad I put so much though into it. When the house was finally done, and I brought Greer out to see it for the first time, she squealed at this room. She loves being able to look out her window to the water and yet still be able to keep an eye on everything happening in the living room. Oli won’t always live here, but the new baby won’t always be sitting still either.
I couldn’t care less what direction the windows face. I’m thrilled to be back on the farm, so I can get an extra forty-five minutes of sleep at night. Living in town was a hardship I was willing to deal with so I could be with my family, but I’m grateful to be back.
“Here ya go, cowboy.” Greer holds up a travel mug of hot coffee, knowing I was headed for the coffee pot.
“You already made coffee?”
She shrugs and takes a sip of some juice she has in a mug. I think it’s weird she doesn’t use a glass, but she claims sometimes she can trick her
self into believing it’s a cup of her highly-coveted joe. “I was wide awake.”
Leaning against her desk, I reach down and rub her belly. She groans at my touch and leans back, closing her eyes. I know that’s my cue to keep rubbing. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I just hurt like always. I’m ready for this baby to get here.”
“Just two more weeks, babe. Two more weeks.”
“Yeah. And then my breasts will hurt from feedings. I’ll get even less sleep than I get now. And I’ll lose my arms from holding a baby all the time.”
I laugh softly through my nose. She’s trying hard to be excited about the baby, and I know once he or she gets here, Greer will be okay. She’ll love our child no matter what. The anticipation of what life will be like is making her terribly anxious. And hormones have made her seriously grumpy. But at least she’s relaxed a bit about our chances of genetic abnormalities. No, we don’t have all information yet. Hell, we don’t even know the gender. But nothing on the ultrasounds or in the blood tests have indicated any problems so far. For that, we’re grateful.
Oli ambles through the room, also headed for the coffee maker, if I had to guess. He’s been doing a great job of going to work every day. He’s still supervised closely, and he likely always will be. But with the exception of troubleshooting, he does a pretty good job as a dairy farm hand. When he’s not working, he gets his fill playing with the animals and feeding them all their favorite treats. Plus, he gets along with the other farm hands who are really good to him.
It’s been nice seeing him blossom, and I can only imagine he’ll do even better once he gets used to living in the bunk house.
“Don’t forget your medicine,” I call out to him. He holds up the medication bottle and flashes it at me in response.
Looking at Greer, who might be dozing off while I make circles on her stomach, I can’t help but think how beautiful she is like this. I can’t believe a year ago we were getting ready to meet for the first time. Talk about a whirlwind romance.
I wouldn’t do anything differently, though. Not one single thing.
Leaning over, I whisper, “Gotta go, baby. Why don’t you get back in bed?”
She shakes her head and opens her eyes. “You know I won’t sleep. Afternoon naps seem to work best these days.”
“Okay. But promise me you’ll rest today.” She nods, and I kiss her gently on the lips before leaving for the day.
~ ~ ~
Several hours go by, and it’s turning out to be a normal day. Milk cows, muck stalls, fix fences. It’s all fairly redundant.
The most interesting part is the phone call I got from Mrs. Johnson regarding the new school year which starts next week and how many students we can expect. We only have three so far. I’m surprised by how few will be coming out, but it seems to come in waves. We had a few kids roll out of the program last year, so I’m not shocked.
The other fun has been watching the temperature gauge hit one hundred seven for the fourth day. We’ve been taking bets on how many days in a row it’ll be this hot before a “cool front” knocks it back to ninety.
I’m glad to be going home for lunch just to get out of this heat. I’m also glad to be checking on my wife. The closer we get to “go time” the more worried I get. And for some reason, this morning didn’t sit well with me.
Closing the door behind me when I walk in, I take a split second to stop and enjoy the air conditioning. It’s this moment that I hear her on the phone.
“I can’t really tell if they’re consistent or not,” Greer says. “I’ll have a mild pain for about a minute, then another one three minutes later, then I’ll have a big one three minutes after that. That cycle has been going on for several hours.”
She’s been timing contractions for hours?
Racing into her office, I find her sitting straight up in her chair, rubbing her back while she talks. She looks up briefly when she sees me walk in but doesn’t address me.
“Uh huh. How soon do you want to see me?” Her eyes widen, I assume at the answer she’s given. “Oh. Okay. Well it’s going to be a little bit. I need my sister-in-law to come out to stay with the kids.”
That’s my cue to start texting people, starting with Pedro.
Me: Baby time. Take over.
Pedro: What? Right now? She’s not due for two weeks!
Me: You think babies care about that? Take over! And watch Oli for me!
“Julie!” I yell and race to the staircase leading to her room. “Julie! I have to take your mom to the hospital!”
The only response I hear is her racing down the stairs. “Is it time?” Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she’s trying to balance excitement with fear.
“I think so. Pedro is going to watch after Oli, but can you hang out until your aunt and uncle get here? I could drop you at the main house and you can stay with Brittany for a while.”
“Yeah sure,” she says quietly, then adds, “She’s gonna be okay, right?”
I tamper down my desire to race back to Greer and throw her in the car, instead focusing on my step-daughter who is battling her own emotions. “She’s going to be fine. She’s probably calmer than I am right now. In fact, maybe we should be worried about me passing out. I’ve never done this before. At least she knows what to expect.”
That rewards me with a smile, and I know I said exactly what she needed to hear.
“Well before you go, you may want to shower,” Julie advises. “You stink like cows, and I doubt the first thing my new sibling wants to smell when he or she is born is farm crud.”
Taking a whiff of myself, I realize she’s right. If we’re going to be at the hospital for the rest of the day and all night, I need to clean up.
Racing to the shower, I refuse to stop and enjoy the three shower heads I had installed as an over-the-top luxury for myself. It does wonders to help relieve my muscles after a fourteen-hour day, but this time, I take the world’s fastest shower instead. We have somewhere to be.
Faster than I clean up, I throw clean clothes on and race out the bedroom door, still pulling my T-shirt over my head. Somehow, in the thirty seconds it took to shower, my house has become a hub of activity.
Julie is eyeing Greer curiously, while Oli is asking all kinds of questions about what’s going to happen at the hospital. And Pedro is tracking dirt on my floor, pacing the room.
I try to ignore all of them, instead going straight to my wife. “You ready to go or do you need to do anything first?”
Surprise is written all over her face. “Oh. I didn’t realize you knew they said to come in.”
“I overheard you on the phone. Three minutes apart, right?”
She smiles at me and grabs my hand. “Yeah, but it’s weird. It’s definitely a pattern, but it’s not the kind of pattern they tell you to watch for. I’d honestly think it was Braxton-Hicks except for the fact that it’s been going on for so long. Maybe we should wait.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No. No way. Babe, you are pale and something feels different. I can’t put my finger on it, but I really think they’re right.”
She sighs heavily. “Okay. Let’s get checked out. But Ace”—she looks me dead in the eye as I pull her to a stand—“if Pedro even thinks he’s coming with us, I will drive a stake through his heart. I’m not doing another delivery with him there.”
A hearty laugh breaks free from my chest. “I’ll get rid of him. Why don’t you start waddling to the car?”
“Har, har, very funny.” But she complies and once again, I’m glad this is almost over. One hand is under her belly, holding it up to alleviate some of the pressure from her back. The other is running against the wall, like she can hardly stand up. I gesture for Julie to walk with her while I approach the men standing around doing nothing.
“Pedro.”
He rushes to me. “What do you need. Water? Towels? A car seat?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, we’re not doing this again. What I need is for you to head back
to the barn with Oli and run things.”
“Are you sure? I’m here to support you, brother, just like you did me.”
I clap my hand on his shoulder. “I know. And I appreciate it. But after last time, I’m pretty sure my wife wants nothing to do with you. Oli, however, really needs you to stay calm and help him finish up all his work. Besides, the hospital might send us home.”
I know deep down in my gut there’s no way we’re coming home without a baby, but I’m not about to share that information with the two guys that are likely to freak out. Shuffling them out the front door with a wave goodbye, I watch until they safely drive away, then clamor into my own vehicle.
Greer’s eyes are closed and she’s breathing deeply, obviously in the middle of a contraction. Grabbing her hand, I encourage her to squeeze as tight as she can.
“I got you, babe. I got you.”
Within seconds, her eyes are open and she’s smiling at me. “It’s painful, but not as painful as labor should be. I’m telling you, it would not surprise me at all if they send us home.”
I disagree, but I’m not going to tell her that. I may not have a ton of experience with this kind of thing, but I’d also be a fool to have any form of opinion at all right now. She’s already threatened Pedro’s life. I’m sure mine is next.
We drop Julie off at the main house where Brittany is doing all her daily cooking for the staff, then head straight to the hospital. Fortunately, the drive is only about twenty minutes, but I swear Greer’s pain level increases ten-fold in that time. By the time we park and get to triage, she’s stopping every few minutes to grip my hand. All I can do is rub her back and not scream out in my own pain when it feels like my fingers are breaking.
And this is only the beginning.
“Name?” a bubbly nurse asks. She’s too bubbly in my opinion. Can’t she see my wife is in pain?
“Greer Whitman.” Greer leans against the counter, not actually looking at the nurse. “I think my doctor’s office called and gave you a heads-up.”
