Contractions? Brian sucked in a breath. They were supposed to wait until those were five minutes apart for an hour before thinking of coming to hospital. But in all the commotion and panic…
His gaze flitted to Elizabeth’s.
“I–I don’t know.” His wife’s forehead creased. “I have slight cramping now and then, but nothing painful.”
“So you haven’t timed your contractions?” She lifted Elizabeth’s shirt then squeezed some gel onto the wand of the Doppler fetal monitor. She moved it over Elizabeth’s abdomen and the baby’s heartbeat galloped through the monitor’s speaker, while the three digit heartbeat flashed on the screen.
“No. I— we haven’t.” Elizabeth shot Brian an “oops-we-forgot” look.
“Your baby’s heartbeat is good. Have you had any problems during the pregnancy?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Just morning sickness and cravings, but those disappeared after the first trimester.”
Brian cleared his throat. “You’ve obviously watched Life Begins at Sixty, sister, so you’re probably aware we’re a high risk for Down syndrome?”
The Charge Nurse nodded. “Babies have been diagnosed with Down syndrome in pregnancies, and when the baby is born, it’s perfectly healthy. Exactly how far along are you?”
“Thirty-six weeks,” Elizabeth answered.
Teresa smiled. “Babies have been born that early, too—even earlier—and survived. Your odds are good—on both counts.”
Brian stared at the woman’s serene face. Thank heavens they’d gotten a glass-always-half-full nurse. What would they have done if Charge Nurse doom and gloom had been on duty tonight?
Thank you, Lord, for your blessings even in something like this.
“Did you wear a maternity pad on the way to the hospital?” Teresa turned her full attention on Elizabeth.
“I did.”
“I’ll need to examine the collected fluid. Afterward I’ll conduct an internal examination to assess how far in labor you are before we contact your obstetrician.” She smiled. “Perhaps we can let Dr. Kerr get a full night’s beauty sleep?”
Elizabeth obliged with the maternity pad.
After she’d examined the pad, the Charge Nurse threw it into the medical waste disposal bin. She returned to the bed where Elizabeth lay, her mouth slightly skewed as she bit on her lip. “Um…the pad was dry.” Her hands pressed against Elizabeth’s stomach and thin lines rippled her forehead. “The baby’s head has not engaged, either.”
She stripped off her rubber gloves. “You can go home, Mrs. Dunham. You’re not in labor.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she sat upright. “B–but my waters—”
“A urinal accident,” the Charge Nurse explained. “It happens. With the baby pressing on your bladder, sometimes you just have to go…even when you’re asleep.”
“B–but the slight pains?”
“Braxton Hicks contractions.”
“So you’re telling me I wet the bed?”
She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“I–I’m so embarrassed. I haven’t done that since I was about four years old.”
Teresa placed a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and offered her a sympathetic smile. “It’s better than having the baby four weeks early, not so? And I promise, it’s a lot more common than you realize.”
Elizabeth nodded, her cheeks still red.
Brian sighed with relief. Good thing he hadn’t called Jordan. This would be one story they’d want to keep between themselves and Teresa Roux.
“Go home and get some rest, Mrs. Dunham. It was nice meeting you, and I hope I get to see you when you’re back in a month.” Teresa waved as she slipped out of the room.
Brian pushed to his feet. “She’s right, love. Let’s get back home to bed. But how about I treat you to an ice cream on the way home? McDonald’s is open all night, and a frozen treat could help a little with the heat.”
Elizabeth gazed into Brian’s eyes. “With a chocolate Flake?”
He slid his arm into hers as he led her out of the room. “Is there any other way?”
Chapter 12
Monday’s afternoon sun streamed into Elizabeth’s kitchen. She gazed out the window toward their neighbor’s house, lost in thought about the miracle of Errol, JoAnn, Jordan, and Shaun attending church with them yesterday morning. God was at work. She turned on the oven and proceeded to stack the cake ingredients neatly on the kitchen counter. Brian had wanted to bake her one. She’d insisted on doing it herself. She didn’t mind, and besides, if she didn’t channel this energy into something sweet and creative, she’d be dusting and polishing the furniture. And what came after that? Mopping the floors?
She could always write a few blogs…get ahead. But she’d already told Brian she would make the cake.
And he was on a mission to get the grass mown.
Hopefully, she’d manage. Her stomach had dropped low and, although more comfortable, seemed to be in the way of everything she did.
Three days overdue. Would this baby ever make its arrival?
“Are you waiting for mommy’s birthday, my precious Bean?” she crooned, soothing a hand over her slung belly. Dr. Kerr had said she could induce labor, but Elizabeth wanted things to proceed as naturally as possible.
The doorbell rang, and Elizabeth started. She wasn’t used to the shrill sound yet. With an imminent new baby in the house, perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea that Brian had installed it in the first place. They should’ve stuck to visitors knocking—less likely to waken a sleeping babe.
Elizabeth wiped her hands on the apron she’d slung over her neck, removing the residual flour that had made an appearance, compliments of the torn packaging. There was no way she could still tie the protective piece of clothing behind her back. The ties were not that long.
The doorbell sounded again.
“I’m coming.” She lumbered her way to the front of the house then swung the door open.
Jordan stood on the threshold, Shaun and his camera behind him, as they’d done so many times over the past few months. She would miss this sight once the baby was born and Life After Sixty trickled to an annual spot on Jordan’s show. But both young men had promised to stop by every time they were in town, and she looked forward to more personal encounters with each of them, away from the prying eye of the camera.
“Hello, Elizabeth. Still walking?” Jordan leaned in to hug her, as had become his custom over the months as they’d gotten to know him.
“Waddling is more like it. You can call me Daisy Duck.” She managed a smile. “Come inside. You guys want some coffee?”
“We’d love a cup. Any early birthday cake to go with that?” Jordan licked his lips.
“Not yet, but I was just about to start baking. I’ll tell you what, how about I make two cakes—one for tomorrow and one for much later this afternoon?”
Shaun peeked out the side of the viewfinder. “Are you sure you can, Mrs. D? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I already did, just after lunch. Besides, I feel inspired to bake. Hopefully my activity will spur the baby on to make his,” she smiled, “or her, grand entrance.” Her abdomen tightened for a moment before it relaxed. These Braxton Hicks contractions seemed far more frequent and intense today than they had in the past few weeks.
She switched on the kettle and pulled down three cups from the cupboard above her head.
“Where’s Brian?” Jordan plopped onto one of the chairs around the middle island.
“He strolled over to your parents’ house moments ago. Needed to ask your father about borrowing their lawn mower. Ours died a slow and painful death last week. Brian needs to buy a new one, but has been too afraid to put a foot further than next door or the beach for days now.”
“Can’t say I blame him. It’ll be a while before we see him then. My dad will bend his ear for at least the next hour.” Jordan smiled and lifted a handful of peanuts from the tub on the counter. He poured them into his mou
th.
“You didn’t see him before you came over?” Elizabeth removed the bowl from her Kenwood mixer where it stood in a corner on the countertop near the electric plug.
“We didn’t come from Mom and Dad’s place. Shaun and I spent the morning on the beach. After lunch we shot into Ballito Bay to do some shopping. We came straight from there.”
“I wondered why you weren’t at our door at the crack of dawn.” She opened the packet of flour, taking care not to rip the packaging further. From the pot drawer, she retrieved the sieve, placing the handy device on the bowl. She measured out two cups of all-purpose flour and placed the powdery substance into the sieve, banging it against her hand. The flour fell like snow into the mixing bowl.
Elizabeth moved on to measure the rest of the dry ingredients.
“I figured you’d call us when you’re in labor.” Jordan picked at the peanuts. Time had been speeding by so fast, it felt like just yesterday when their little Bean was that size, and now he was ready to be born. Except it seemed he was far too comfortable inside her stomach.
Another pain squeezed Elizabeth, catching her breath. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Four thirty-five.
Jordan shoved to his feet. “Should I make the coffee? You seem distracted. And busy.”
Brushing back her hair from her forehead, Elizabeth exhaled. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. My mind’s on too many things today.” Like whether these were Braxton Hicks contractions she’d been experiencing since this morning, or whether she was finally in labor. She’d make sure this time before heading off to the hospital. No way did they want a repeat of their last fiasco. “Would you mind, Jordan? Then I can get this batter mixed and into the oven to bake. We could still be eating cake after dinner. You will stay for the evening meal, won’t you?”
“Elizabeth, we’re going to literally be your shadows until that baby is born.” Jordan put a teaspoon of coffee into two of the cups, and a teabag into the other one for her. He lifted the kettle and filled them with hot water.
“Please would you make an extra cup of strong coffee? I need it for the cake.” Elizabeth added the vegetable oil, milk, eggs, and vanilla extract into the dry ingredients and whipped them together. Soon a smooth batter formed. Finally, she stirred in the coffee.
She spooned the batter into a greased ring pan and popped that into the oven to bake for half an hour.
“Right, now that’s done, why don’t we take our coffee and tea to the lounge?” She opened the pantry door and pointed to the biscuit tin. “Jordan, would you mind bringing that along?”
It felt good to sit for a while, especially in the comfort of the couch. The fan circulated the warm air. At least it wasn’t quite as hot and humid as last month.
Elizabeth struggled to maintain focus on her conversation with Jordan and Shaun. Her gaze kept drifting to the grandfather clock. Every eight minutes. Every time her stomach contracted.
“Uh!” The contraction took her breath away. Grimacing, she cradled her abdomen. That was a strong one.
Jordan’s eyes widened. He shot to his feet and rushed to Elizabeth’s side. “What is it?”
Shaun flew out of his chair, as well. In one smooth movement that camera was back on his shoulder.
Elizabeth drew in a long breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. “I–I think I might be in labor.”
Shouting drew Brian’s attention away from his conversation with Errol. An interruption. Thank heavens. Now perhaps he could get back home with this mower and cut his grass. Plus check on his wife, although she’d promised to call him on the phone if anything happened.
What? Wait. That was Jordan heading their way. Was he shouting his name? And Elizabeth’s?
“I–I have to go.”
Leaving the lawnmower, Brian pivoted and dashed across Errol’s newly-cut grass toward Jordan who was frantically waving his hands.
“Brian, come quickly. Elizabeth’s in labor.”
For real this time?
His heart slammed against his chest, and his pulse pounded as he broke into a sprint. This is it. Finally. His arms ached to hold that little baby.
Brian rushed in through the open patio door, hot on Jordan’s heels.
The living room was empty.
He moved to the kitchen and his gaze fell on Elizabeth’s back. The electric mixer whined at a high speed.
“I thought you were in labor,” he shouted, moving closer.
Elizabeth didn’t budge.
From the scullery entrance, Shaun tracked him with the camera.
Brian slid his arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “What are you doing?”
She turned off the mixer and for a split second silence reigned. “Hey honey.” She planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m making icing for that birthday cake. What does it look like?” She removed the bowl of sugary frosting from the mixer. Balancing it on her stomach, she began to beat vigorously by hand with a wooden spoon.
On a cooling rack on top of the stove rested Elizabeth’s freshly baked dark chocolate cake, yet to be taken out of the pan.
“I— Jordan said you were in labor.” He shot Jordan a pointed look.
Elizabeth smiled. “I am. I told him it wasn’t necessary to call you, that you’d be home soon, but he insisted. ‘Brian needs to come and help you breathe,’ he’d said before rushing out that patio door back home.”
The spoon clattered into the mixing bowl, the bowl sliding from her hands onto the countertop. As she buckled over, her fingers gripped the faux granite melamine top.
Brian leaned closer, hand to her back—rubbing. “Breathe, love. Deep in on ‘re’. Exhale slowly on ‘lax’. Remember? Like Annette taught us. In…and out.”
“Whew. That was another strong one.” Elizabeth picked up the bowl and continued mixing.
Brian gently removed the bowl from her hands. “I think all that still needs to happen with this icing is for it to go on the cake.”
“I know. But the cake needs to cool first. And I can’t stand around waiting with nothing to do until the next contraction hits.”
Errol and JoAnn blew in through the front door like an August wind. Except it was March.
“You’re in labor!” JoAnn squealed. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“Mostly eight minutes. The last one was ten,” Elizabeth said.
Errol frowned. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to the hospital already?”
JoAnn swatted him with a backhand against his stomach. “Don’t be silly, Errol. You don’t rush off to the hospital at the first contraction.”
Or the first signs of waters breaking. Or rather, bedwetting. They’d make sure it was time before rushing off to the hospital again. Five minutes apart for an hour.
“This will take several hours.” JoAnn eased past Elizabeth. “Why don’t you go for a nice stroll with Brian? Walking through the contractions helps. I’ll finish off frosting that cake for you. And I’ll whip up a yummy dinner for us all. It’s going to be a long night, and you’ll all need the sustenance to get through it. I do believe tomorrow we’ll be celebrating two birthdays.”
JoAnn shooed Elizabeth and Brian out of the kitchen before instructing Errol on what to fetch from her refrigerator.
Brian knelt in front of Elizabeth and rolled up her cotton pants to the knees. Straightening, he took her by the hand. “What do you say we get our toes wet for one last time with the bump?
She squeezed his hand and breathed in deep as another contraction swept over her. “I–I’d like that,” she managed as she attempted to walk off the pain.
Twilight had painted the skies in a soft, diffused light by the time Elizabeth and Brian returned from the beach. Outside on the patio the dinner table was set. What a great idea. The evening was too perfect to waste. Candles flickered in the semi-darkness, light reflecting across the white tablecloth. Against the glass of the open sliding door, a ‘Happy Birthday.’ banner hung. Beneath that, written in large letters on a sheet of white pap
er—‘Elizabeth & ?’
Elizabeth smiled. Oh, her friend certainly knew how to turn something ordinary into something extraordinary.
Brian and Elizabeth stepped inside, and the aroma of dinner assailed their senses as it wafted from the kitchen to the living room.
JoAnn glanced up from where she busied herself in the kitchen. “Ah, you’re back. Just in time. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
“That smells delicious. What’s for dinner?” Despite rising on her tiptoes, she still couldn’t see inside the pots.
“I’ve salmon fillets baking in the oven. They’re fresh. Bought them this morning. In the pots are French beans and honey-glazed carrots.” JoAnn touched the last small pot. “And in this one I’m making a lemon and tarragon sauce. It’s supposed to have garlic, as well, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
A laugh spilled from Elizabeth’s mouth. “No, it wouldn’t be. Where’s everyone?”
“Errol’s run next door to fetch some cold drinks, and Jordan and Shaun decided to take a quick shower. I explained to them that they might want to be sparkly clean if they were hoping to be in the delivery room with you.” JoAnn stirred the sauce then lifted a spoonful to her mouth. She smiled. “Hmm. Perfect.”
She aimed the now empty spoon at Elizabeth. “Speaking of…why don’t you both go and have a quick shower before we eat. You never know when you’ll need to up and leave the birthday party for the hospital. And believe me, you’ll want to feel fresh and clean, too.”
She was sooo right.
Hand in the small of her back, Brian gave Elizabeth a gentle nudge toward the passage. “You go first, love.”
“Before you take off, how far apart are your contractions?” JoAnn asked.
As if on cue, one grabbed, pulling her stomach tight. Elizabeth leaned against the wall, breathing her way through it. “Around six to seven minutes, but they’re getting more intense.” Relaxing around this dinner table was just the thing she needed to take her mind off the pain that lay ahead. These contractions would only get worse as they neared the birth.
Love at First Laugh: Eight Romantic Novellas Filled with Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever After Page 77
