by Karen Booth
She smiled softly. “Funny. I could say the same thing about you.”
“Believe me, I know.” He looked down at his feet, then out at the water, searching for the right words to say. Thoughts of Julia, of the baby, and of his dad had been cycling through his head all day. “I’ve spent an awful lot of my life hoping to live up to what my dad had wanted for me, the accolades and awards. Trying like hell to win a World Series. But after talking to your father last night, I really realized how much my dad loved his kids. He didn’t catch a million pitches for me because he loved baseball. He did it because he loved me. This child deserves the same, and I know I’m capable of giving it. I’m not going to pass up the chance to do that. I don’t need a test to prove to myself that I can.”
“It’s okay to have your reservations. I can live with them. I was being unreasonable and expecting you to conform to everything I wanted. I can trust that it will all work out.” She smiled up at him, her face so eager and hopeful. “I can trust that we will work out.”
“You don’t have to worry about my reservations. There aren’t any anymore. The last few hours, thinking about losing you again, all I could think was that I didn’t doubt for a second that I wanted this. I wanted us, with the baby. The only hitch is that I need to know that you’re on board. I need to know that you’re in it for the long haul.”
She blew out a breath and her eyes lit up, even out there in the bright sun. “I’m more than in it. I’m so sorry about this morning. I freaked out because it took me right back to that place where I was terrified of seeing you walk away.”
He nodded, taking in every word, everything he’d wanted to hear from her. There was no way he was waiting another minute to start their future together. It had to start now. “Before I ask you what I need to ask you, I need to say one thing. No more talk of a paternity test. It’s a dead issue.”
“Okay...” A quizzical look crossed her face. “I know that’s been difficult for you.”
Here goes nothing. And everything. He dropped down to his knee, holding her hand.
Her other hand flew to her lips. “No.”
“You’re saying no already?”
Her head nearly rattled back and forth. “Not what I mean. I’m sorry. Go ahead.”
He snickered. “Julia Keys, will you marry me? Will you be my wife? Will you parent with me and live happily ever after with me?”
She nodded, but a word didn’t come out of her mouth.
“Marry me and have our baby. Nobody needs to think anything else. I don’t care if the baby looks like me. Hell, if we’re lucky, the baby will just look like you.” He reached into his pocket for his grandmother’s ring, something he’d thought about hundreds of times since his mother had given it to him. He slid it out of the pouch and held it up for her.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was my grandmother’s. My dad’s mom. My mother gave it to me the other day when we were over at the house.”
“You’ve had it all this time?”
“You know, when you first told me that you were pregnant, and I insisted that we get married, that was my way of being a man and taking care of things. That was my way of trying to be a dad. And given that I was only a few minutes into it, I realize now that I wasn’t doing that great of a job.”
“What does that have to do with the ring?”
“I’m trying to say that I don’t give this ring lightly. I’ve never even thought of putting it on another woman’s finger. I think it’s because I knew all along that I was waiting for you. I’m dying to put it on your finger. I’m dying to hear you say that you’ll be my wife and we can have the happily-ever-after that we’ve spent more than a dozen years waiting on.”
“I love you so much, Logan. Of course I’ll marry you.”
He stood and slipped the ring onto her finger. It didn’t quite fit. “I’m sorry. It’s a little tight.”
“Bloating.” She crammed the ring the rest of the way on to her hand. “Normal pregnancy stuff.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “You make it sound so sexy.”
She rested her forehead against his and they fell into a snug embrace. “I’m worried about one thing, though.”
“No. No worrying. We’re done worrying. I don’t care if the forecast is for hail and the sky is going to fall. No more worrying.”
She bugged her eyes at him. “I was just wondering whether it’s rude to get engaged at someone else’s wedding.”
“Considering all of the very rude things that have happened at our hand over the last few days, an engagement is the least of our worries. We’ll just have to keep it our little secret.”
“Oh, because we all know how good we are at doing that.”
“This one is different. We’re both fully invested in it.”
“What about the actual wedding? We should probably talk about that at some point.”
Good thing he’d thought about this yesterday during the rehearsal. “Yeah, about that. I guess we should do it here in town. For our parents?”
“Yes. Perfect. How about Monday morning?”
“Monday? But that’s the day after tomorrow. There’s no time to plan. We have to get the license and you’ll have to find a dress. And then we’ll have to find someone to officiate.”
She shook her head and planted her hands on her hips. “If only we knew a judge...”
“My mom.”
“Yes. I don’t want to go through what Tracy just went through. I just want to get to the good part. Being with you.”
He pulled her against him and gave her another kiss, soft and steamy. “You are so brilliant. I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel.”
She grabbed his wrist and consulted his watch. “Cake gets cut in fifteen minutes. Everyone should be hammered by a half hour after that. I say we make our escape then.” Still holding his arm, she turned to head for the stairs, attempting to pull him along.
“Hey, Jules?” He tugged her back.
“Yes?”
“I think you were right. I should write a memoir.”
She smiled the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen, which was saying a lot. “What changed your mind?”
“Now I know it’s going to have a happy ending.”
Epilogue
Julia stopped in her tracks in the hall outside the master bedroom of Logan’s Connecticut estate—their estate, now that they had been husband and wife for five and a half crazy, but ridiculously happy, months. She slapped her hands against the wall, pushing her hands into the plaster. The pain was unlike anything she’d experienced, a relentless tightening starting in her back and coiling around her midsection. It left her restless, with a desire to do conflicting things—sit and stand, move and freeze, stay silent and scream.
As she’d learned to do in childbirth class, she tried to visualize anything that felt good. Right now, mental images of their dreamy honeymoon in French Polynesia were the only thing getting her through the contractions. She and Logan had spent two weeks in a thatched-roof villa several hundred yards offshore, on stilts above the clear, emerald-green sea. Their days were filled with exquisite food, skinny-dips in their private pool, lovemaking and a nap every afternoon. At night after dinner, they climbed into the hammock and spent hours talking, snug in each other’s arms, warmed by soft ocean breezes, body heat and the deep satisfaction that came with knowing they belonged together. They’d made it. And it was perfect.
“You’ve got this. A few more seconds.” Logan continued to apply counterpressure on her lower back with his hand.
As if his words were magic, the tightening released her and she could move again. “Oh, thank God.”
He consulted the stopwatch on his phone. “Still eight minutes apart. About forty-five seconds per contraction. Do you want me to call
the hospital again? I feel like this isn’t moving very quickly.”
“They told us it can take a really long time the first time. I don’t want to end up in a hospital bed for hours on end. I’d rather be here with you.”
He sweetly brushed her hair away from her face. “I know, hon. I just want to make sure you and the baby are safe and healthy.” Approaching from the side to avoid her impressive belly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her temple.
She smiled and took his hand. “And I love you for it. Let’s just keep walking and we’ll call after a few more contractions.”
“Sounds like a deal. Which way are we headed?”
“Kitchen. I need food.”
The trip downstairs was slow and deliberate, Logan’s arm around her as she gripped the ornate wrought iron banister. She loved this house—it was grand, but homey, and they had all sorts of privacy. She loved being permanently on the same coast as her parents, Logan’s mom, and Tracy and Carter. It would be a quick trip for the grandparents to fly up to dote on their grandchild. If Tracy and Carter decided to have a baby, it would give them more chances to get the cousins together.
Julia toddled from the bottom of the stairs into the kitchen, her belly leading the way. “I just want something simple. Orange juice and an English muffin.”
“Good, since that’s the extent of my culinary skills.” Logan went to work while Julia perched on the edge of a bar stool at the kitchen island, surveying the view through the stretch of multiple French doors overlooking the grounds behind the house. Early March and snow was still on the ground, something she was getting used to. She usually spent this time of year at her beach house in Malibu, just to stay away from the cold. “We need to call about having the pool fence put in as soon as the snow has melted. Otherwise, time will get away from us and the next thing we know, the baby will be walking and we’ll both be worried sick about him or her getting outside and falling in.”
“I already called this morning. After your first few contractions. I figure we’ll have our hands full in the next few weeks. I didn’t want to risk forgetting.”
“Good thinking.”
“That’s why you love me.” He handed her a glass of juice and smiled that electric Logan smile.
“That’s part of it.” She grinned back at him. There were days with Logan when she was tempted to wonder if this was all a dream. It was about far more than ending up with the charming, ridiculously handsome athlete. He was her best friend. They made each other whole. She’d spent a dozen years convinced they’d never get on the same page at the same time. But this certainly wasn’t a dream—it was better. They hadn’t been handed this on a silver platter. She and Logan had worked hard for their life together.
The toaster popped, and Logan buttered the English muffin, bringing it to her on a small plate. Ravenous, Julia took a huge bite, but that was all she got before her body decided to take over. She leaned against the kitchen counter, bracing herself, dropping her head and breathing through the pain.
Logan was quickly at her side again. “Do you want me to rub your back?”
She shook her head vigorously, the pain nearly impossible to take. “Honestly? Don’t. Touch. Me.”
He took a step back as if she were a bomb about to go off. “Are they getting more intense?”
She couldn’t speak. She nodded.
“I think we should go to the hospital.”
Finally, her muscles began to uncoil. Her shoulders dropped in relief, and she caught her breath as warmth rippled down her upper thighs. She wondered for a moment if it was just being around Logan. He did have that effect on her, but as much as she loved him, she was feeling anything but romantic right now. The heat trailed down her leg. Liquid trickled onto the polished wood floor. She stared down as the pool of fluid grew. “Oh my God. My water broke.”
“Your hospital bag is already in the car. I’ll get your coat. And a towel.”
He’s so calm and collected in a crisis. “No coat. I’m a human furnace right now. And I’d get two towels if I were you.”
“One minute.”
He flew up the stairs and she soon heard the slamming of cabinet doors. He was back and ready to go before she could finish her English muffin. Frenetic energy radiated from him as he nervously nodded his head and helped her up from her seat. He was ready to go. He was ready for this to happen. She was ready, too. She was tired of feeling like a human beluga.
* * *
Rushing to the hospital ushered in a chaotic mix of excitement, anticipation and worry. Logan felt too much as if everything was happening to them and not because of them. They certainly had no control over the things Julia’s body was doing, the immense pain she was having to endure. She suffered through the car ride, but remained quiet and focused. He admired her strength, but was not surprised by her determination to make it seem as if she had everything under control.
Now that he was putting their new minivan through its paces, navigating S-turns and tight corners, Logan was happy to learn just how well it handled. He’d never expected he’d own a car like this, nor did he expect that being behind the wheel of this car would make him feel more like a man than any of the expensive sports cars he owned. It made him feel like a dad.
He got them there in record time and zipped into a parking spot near the emergency entrance. An orderly dashed outside to help Julia into a wheelchair and get her inside. Logan juggled a clipboard a nurse had handed him, along with his phone and Julia’s bag. He fielded questions about contractions and Julia’s due date as she was wheeled into an exam room.
It didn’t take hospital staff long to get her into a gown and up on the exam table. A doctor checked her, then rolled back on a stool and scribbled on Julia’s chart. “She’s nearly five centimeters. You’re lucky you didn’t stay at home much longer. You might’ve been having your baby in the car. Let’s get you admitted and up into Labor and Delivery.”
Julia’s sweet eyes flashed up at Logan. They were filled with both optimism and fear. She seemed to be feeling much as he did—like they were riding a corkscrew roller coaster on Christmas morning.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re doing such a good job. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. I’m nervous.”
Yes, darling. Me, too.
They were quickly registered and taken to a Labor and Delivery room. The nurses were a godsend—calm and capable through countless unfamiliar experiences: monitors that beeped, cords that lit up, and a constant parade of people in and out of the room. Julia got something to take the edge off the pain, but it was still very much there, and Logan would’ve done anything to take it all away from her.
She endured the contractions for hours. Logan did his part, talking her through it, reminding her to breathe, holding a cool washcloth to her forehead and giving her ice chips. Still, he felt so helpless that it had turned into a test of his mental endurance. How long can you watch the person you love most in the world suffer? He was desperate to make this easier for her and there was absolutely nothing he could do.
After nearly six hours, they were both exhausted, but Julia was showing the greatest effects of it. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes tired. They’d been left alone for at least the last forty-five minutes, and he was really starting to worry. Why wasn’t anyone helping them? Why wasn’t the baby here yet? He was just about to call someone when a nurse they hadn’t yet met barged through the door.
“I think you’re ready to push, Mom.” The nurse bunched up the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing under scrubs and washed her hands. “Baby should be here very soon.”
“Um, okay,” Julia said, seeming as confused as Logan felt.
“I’m sorry. Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Maria. I just came on shift about twenty minutes ago.” She snapped on a pa
ir of latex gloves. “I’ve been watching your contractions on the monitor. I think you’re ready.”
How someone could know it was time for the baby to arrive merely by looking on a television monitor was beyond Logan, but he was in no position to argue. “Okay. What can I do?”
“Help me get her feet in the stirrups.”
Logan did as he was asked while Julia moaned with the pain of another contraction.
Maria did the quick examination. “Ten centimeters. Fully dilated. I can see the top of the baby’s head, if you want to look, Dad.”
Logan was struggling to keep up—holding Julia’s hand, wanting to see the baby while also being scared to see the baby. The only logical question sprang from his lips. “The doctor?”
“Should be here any minute. But don’t worry. I’ve caught lots of babies.” She blew her curly black hair from her forehead and winked at Logan. “Another contraction, Mom?”
Julia nodded and scrunched up her face.
“Dad, help her sit up to push.”
Logan took Julia’s arm and again did as he was told.
“Bear down. Push as hard as you can. That’s great. You can do it.” Maria was a font of encouragement.
“Childbearing hips, my ass,” Julia grunted, followed by a low and agonizing groan. When the final sound passed her lips, she collapsed back on the bed and turned to Logan. “Even though I love you, I hate you.”
He smiled wide. “So nothing has changed.”
“Very funny.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, which was damp with perspiration. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“The baby is crowning. I think only one or two more pushes like that last one. Looks like he or she has a pretty impressive head of dark hair.”’
“That’s a good sign,” Julia muttered.
Indeed, it was, although Logan would’ve taken a bald baby or a baby with clown hair at this point. He just wanted the little bugger to get here.
