Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

58. Ian

The icy rainand sleet had picked up over the past hour. Joey had texted and said there was no way he could get to us. Not only were the roads snow- and ice-covered, multiple trees had come down under the weight of all that ice and were now blocking many of the roads.

According to the local news, a fire truck responding to a crash outside of Kingwood had lost control and flipped over, pining the driver and another of the firefighters in the cab. Emergency crews were having a difficult time getting to the scene. That was concerning as fuck, but at least we were safe and warm and Madison was resting. The storm was expected to stop overnight and temperatures should begin to rise tomorrow. We’d miss her doctor’s appointment, but we should still be able to fly back to Philadelphia by late afternoon or early on Wednesday.

My mother had sent us home with a ton of leftovers from the baby shower as well as a vat of turkey soup. We had food, beer, coffee, and the ingredients for Madison’s favorite hot cocoa, so my girl would be well taken care of tonight.

Other than the steady rhythm playing on the roof, and the occasional crack of a branch giving way to a thick coat of ice, there was no sound. It was eerie, like existing in a vacuum of some kind. I’d picked up my guitar and ran through a few riffs, trying to tighten up the song I’d been writing, but my mind was operating in a vacuum as well. The uneasy silence was the opposite of the noise in my head. My brain couldn’t settle and neither could my nerves. There was a strange energy in the air and it made me jumpy and irritable. I was also kicking myself. We should’ve flown out last night. Madison had given Robert and the flight crew the holiday off, but he was always on standby and would’ve returned to fly us back to the city last night if she’d called him.

I put my guitar in its case and considered pouring myself a couple fingers of scotch. I reached for the bottle but then changed my mind. If things were to suddenly go sideways, I needed my wits about me. I stood near the window and stared into the yard. It was beautiful, but dangerous, and I wanted to kick my own ass for fucking up. Didn’t do any good fretting. It’s not like I could change anything. We’d be fine. I’d almost convinced myself of that until the power went out.

“Son of a bitch.”

I stoked the fire in the fireplace and noticed that the pile of firewood next to the hearth had dwindled—damn it. I went down to the basement and checked the breakers. Nothing had blown, which meant the outage was more than likely due to downed trees and with the roads as bad as they were, it could be hours, if not days, before we’d have power again.

Like it or not, I was going to have to risk the ice to gather more firewood. There was a small pile near the fire pit and almost a cord out near the garage, but I worried that it might not be enough to keep us warm for more than a day or two, especially if we couldn’t get out of here.

There’d be plenty of cuddling in our future; that was for sure. In the meantime, I needed to gather up whatever wood I could get my hands on, which would be fun since the only shoes I had here were sneakers and cowboy boots. The rubber sole on the sneakers would be useless, and fifteen-thousand-dollar custom-made alligator cowboy boots weren’t going to keep me from slipping and breaking my neck.

I bundled up as best I could and wearing the cowboy boots—believing it might be easier to dig the heel of the boot into the ice-covered snow better than a rubber-soled sneaker—I grabbed the fireplace poker and went out the back door, which was closest to the fire pit. The back steps were ice-coated, so I dropped onto my ass and took the stairs that way. Digging in with the poker and one boot, I pulled myself up to half-standing, since in order to hold the poker, I had to be nearly bent in half as it was only about forty inches long. Looking like a crippled old man, I made my way to the wood near the fire pit, not thinking that it too, would be encased in ice, requiring me to hit the logs with the poker while trying to remain upright.

It took a while, but I was able to break them free and lug an armful at a time onto the back porch, only falling once before I inched my way to the woodpile near the garage to start the process all over again. By the time I was done, my fingers were red and frozen, and I could hardly feel them.

I pulled off my boots, hung up my coat, and while blowing on my hands, I shuffled over to the stove. Fortunately, it was gas, so I was able to light the burner and put the kettle on to boil.

I added more wood to the dying embers in the fireplace to ensure the room would be warm enough when Madison awoke. Sitting on my haunches, I held my hands as close to the flames as I dared, trying to get some feeling back in them.

Madison called for me from the bedroom.

“Just a sec.” The kettle whistled. I turned toward the kitchen to shut it off, when Madison called again. It would’ve taken me two seconds to pop into the kitchen to turn off the stove, but the edge in her voice had me heading for the bedroom instead.

“Maddie?” I called, not seeing her in bed. Instead, I found her standing in the doorway to the bathroom, one hand holding onto the door jamb. “What’s wrong?”

She stood there, wide-eyed, her voice so low I could barely hear her.

“My water broke.”

“What? That’s not possible,” I stammered. “You have almost three more weeks.” I pointed an accusatory finger at her belly. “First babies are supposed to come late. You said so yourself.”

“Ian, either my water broke or I peed myself.”

The tea kettle screamed and inside my head, I screamed along with it.

I ripped my hand through my hair, which was wet on the ends from the sleet falling outside. “You’re just going to have to start wearing Depends,” I insisted, “because your water didn’t break.”

Her frightened glare said I was wrong. “Ian.”

“Don’t Ian me,” I shouted, unable to help myself. “Your water didn’t break, Madison. We’re in the middle of an ice storm. The roads are impassable and no one could make it up the driveway to get to us. And in case you didn’t notice, we have no power.” I was struggling to appear calm but failing.

“No power?” she whimpered.

“No, so just get your head on straight and go sit by the fire. I’ll make you some cocoa.”

I stomped out of the bedroom and turned off the fucking kettle.

Was I being unreasonable? Yes, but I needed a minute to breathe. To figure out what the hell I was going to do, because if there ever was a time I needed to man up, this was it.

I’d been working toward that goal, but I never could’ve imagine the perfect storm of Madison going into labor more than two weeks early, five hours away from her doctor, in the middle of an actual goddamn storm.

I pressed my fingers over my eyes and sucked in air until my lungs felt as if they were going to burst. “I can do this,” I muttered. “I can do this. I can do this. I can?—”

“Ian,” her small voice came from behind me.

“What?” I snapped, angry at myself for letting my anxiety get the better of me.

“I really think I’m in labor.”

I turned. “You don’t know that; you’re not a doctor.” No, but I’m behaving like a jackass.

“Ian,” she huffed.

“I’m sorry. Give me a minute to freak out. Go sit.”

Her eyebrows lifted, but she said nothing as she toddled toward the sofa. She dropped a towel down before she sat. At least one of us was on the ball here. Too bad it needed to be me. Damn, I wish I smoked. I could’ve used a cigarette right about then. Better yet, a big, fat blunt.

I paced the living room floor. Cursing and mumbling and sounding like I was off my rocker. Madison’s eyes followed me, back and forth. Back and forth.

I needed a plan. That’s what I needed. Step one: a plan.

First, were there any contractions. If so, we call the doctor. But what doctor? Her doctor would want my head on a platter since we were still in West Virginia. Shit.

Maybe call an ambulance. Or Joey. See if I could bribe his ass to get over here and clear my driveway. Maybe first should be timing the contractions. They could still be those fake contractions. Although, if her water broke, there was nothing fake going on here.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Damn.

Why me? I looped my hands together behind my head and pulled. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“Ian.”

Guess my minute was up. Breathe in. Breathe out.

It’s go time, dude. You got this. Your family is counting on you.

I schooled my features and turned. “Yes?”

“I think we should count my contractions.”

“Right. And I’m gonna call Joey and throw a fuck-ton of money at him.”

Madison nodded. She put on a brave face, but I knew she was scared. Me? I was petrified, but I wasn’t going to let her see that.

“I’m gonna make us some tea.”

I poured hot water into two mugs, topped mine off with a splash of whiskey to steel my nerves, and carried hers into the living room, along with a pen and paper to keep track of her contractions. I went back into the kitchen and filled a pot with water, then set it on the stove to boil.

“Are you making spaghetti?” Madison asked.

A maniacal laugh escaped. Calm down, you asshole. “No, I’m boiling water just in case.” I didn’t want to freak her out and let her think I’d be delivering our baby, but this was part of the plan that was taking shape. I’d read a lot during her pregnancy. And I’d watched a bunch of videos. If I had to, I could deliver this baby.

My mug of tea nearly slipped from my fingers at the thought. I don’t want to deliver my baby. I wasn’t a fucking doctor; I was a fucking bass player. What if something went wrong?

The hospital was only twenty minutes away, yet this fucking ice storm had us by the balls.

You can do this, fucker. The fuckboy you once were is long gone. You are Ian Fucking Donohue. You’re a star—not that that matters—but you can do anything you set your mind to. You prepared for this. So suck it up and be a man, because in a little while, you’re gonna be a daddy.

I thought I was going to faint, but I braced myself against the counter and continued formulating that list in my head.

First step: Call Joey.

I pulled up his contact and pressed the button. “Hey, man. I know you said you couldn’t get up here, but I gotta let you know, my girlfriend is in labor and we need to get her to the hospital. I’m calling the ambulance next, but unless you can plow and salt, they won’t be able to get up the driveway.”

“You have a girlfriend?” He called out to someone with him. “Did you know Donohue had a girlfriend?” Whoever he was with responded with, “No shit.”

I looked at the phone. The fucking world had slipped off its axis.

“Listen to me, fucker? I need my driveway plowed. I’ll give you a thousand bucks, cash, if you can get up here soon and clear the way for an ambulance.”

“Listen, man. I’ll do my best, but they’re warning all non-emergency vehicles off the roads.”

Heavy breathing came from the sofa, and I turned to watch Madison breathe her way through a contraction, performing effleurage like we’d learned in the childbirth classes we’d started, but never finished. Fuck. “This is a fucking emergency, dickwad.”

“Calling me names isn’t going to get me there any quicker, ya know.”

“I’m sorry. Just…just do your best. It’s an emergency. Okay?”

“I’ll see what I can do, but it’s gonna cost you.”

“A grand ain’t enough?”

“A grand and VIP seats to any show I want to go to.”

Is this guy serious?“Fine. You got it. Now plow my fucking driveway.” I disconnected the call, took several deep breaths, and dialed 911.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“My girlfriend is in the early stages of labor. I need an ambulance so that we can get her to a hospital.” I followed up giving my name and address and explained that the driveway was long and winding and the house sat atop a steep hill.”

“How far apart are her contractions?”

“I don’t know, but her water broke about a half-hour ago. The baby isn’t due for another two-three weeks.”

“The roads are bad, and it’s taking longer than normal for the ambulance to get to emergencies. Are you in an emergency situation right now?”

“At this very moment? No, but that doesn’t mean the same will be true in fifteen minutes or an hour.”

“I understand that sir, and I’ll dispatch an ambulance, but it could take a while to get to you, especially if your driveway is impassable.”

She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. “I get it, and I have someone trying to get here and take care of it. If they can’t drive up to the house, could they at least hike up? I’ll pay anything. Name your price.”

“Sir, it doesn’t work that way. If you’re a member of the ambulance association then you’re covered for services. If not, your insurance company will be billed.”

“Listen, you get someone up here and I’ll pay for a new building for the ambulance company, the fire company…whoever the hell gets here first.”

“Ian,” Maddie tugged on my arm. “Stop it. Give me the phone.”

I was anything but calm, and now my baby mama was trying to take over. “Go sit down,” I demanded.

Instead of doing as I said, she yanked the phone out of my hand.

“Hello? This is Madison Enright. I’m in labor. And like the crazy man on the phone just said, my water broke about a half-hour ago. My contractions are five minutes apart. They’re uncomfortable, but not terribly painful. Yet. The baby is coming though, and we need to know what to do in the event no one can get to us in time.”

Her eyes locked on mine, she listened to the 911 operator.

“Could you at least put it on speaker so I can hear what she’s saying?”

Ignoring me, Madison continued listening to the operator, said “okay,” and then hung up.

“Why’d you hang up?” I screeched.

“Because there was no reason to keep her on the phone.” She gripped my arm and her jaw clenched. Shit, shit, shit.

“Breathe.” I made sure she was looking at me as I took a deep, slow breath, then exhaled slowly through my mouth while she mimicked me. “You okay?” I asked when her grip loosened.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“C’mon, let’s sit, and you tell me what she said.”

I settled Madison closest to the fire and drew a blanket around her shoulders and put another one over her legs to keep her warm.

“She said they’re going to do the best they can?—”

“That’s not good enough?—”

“Ian, we’re in an emergency situation here.”

“No shit,” I insisted.

“Not just us. The entire area is at a standstill. Most of the roads are closed or impassable. We most likely have hours ahead of us. The call went out, and they’ll get to us as soon as they can. In the meantime, we can time my contractions and do something to get our minds off what’s happening.”

She had to be kidding. “Get our minds off what’s happening?” I didn’t know my voice could go that high. If The Gravel Hill Boys ever needed a falsetto harmony, I got it covered. “How is that even possible?”

“We can play cards. I found a deck in one of the coffee table drawers.”

“I’m boiling water.”

She laughed. “I noticed. What’s that all about?”

“I need to sterilize things. Just in case.”

The look of confusion on her face gave way to worry. “Just in case?”

“Maddie, darlin’. I’d move heaven and earth to get you to a hospital. But what if I can’t? The car is encased in ice. I nearly broke my neck out there trying to get firewood to keep the house warm. There’s a layer of ice over everything. If we can’t get out of here before you’re ready to deliver, I’m going to deliver that baby.”

Her eyes widened and her breaths turned to short gasps.

“Relax. We got this. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m just preparing for the worst-case scenario, but they’re gonna get to us in plenty of time.”

Once she was settled, I took the laces out of my sneakers. Fortunately, they were relatively new and hadn’t frayed. I dropped them into the boiling water along with a pair of scissors. I wasn’t sure how long to sterilize them, so I let them cook for five minutes. That should be enough to kill whatever germs might be on them. There was a pair of rubber gloves under the sink, still in the box. I washed them in soap and water, and then dipped them into the boiling water with a pair of tongs. I didn’t leave them to boil all that long, but at least they’d be clean.

I set a clean towel on the counter, pulled the scissors and shoelaces from the water, and then covered them and the rubber gloves with another clean towel. While there was still enough light in the house, I gathered clean sheets, blankets, and towels from the linen closet and the spare bedrooms. I took the plastic shower curtain liner from the upstairs bathroom and piled everything onto a chair in the living room. Maddie watched quietly. Every now and then I caught her grimacing, and I’d remind her to breathe through the contraction.

There were a few websites and YouTube videos I’d bookmarked on my phone weeks ago that I pulled up and reviewed. I’d wanted to be proactive and prepared for anything. Who would’ve thought that we’d actually be in this situation? For now, I was functioning on autopilot. My brain had absorbed all the data I’d ingested over the past few months and was putting it into practice. Autopilot was good. It kept me from thinking too hard about what we were facing.

Daylight faded into dusk. Firelight flickered on Maddie’s face. I saw fear and more than a little discomfort.

I gathered every candle I could find, thankful that Bailey had purchased so many. I set them around the living room and lit them. There was a camping lantern on the shelf heading into the basement, which I’d save to use for the delivery if needed.

Now that I’d done everything necessary to prepare in case help didn’t reach us in time, my only concern was being a supportive partner for Maddie.

After tossing a few more logs on the fire, I sat beside her on the sofa and lifted her legs onto my lap, making sure to keep the blanket tucked around her. “How’re you doing?”

She rested her head on the back of the sofa, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Absolutely. Is this the best situation? No, but I’ve got this, sweetheart. I’ve done so much reading over the past few months, I’m just shy of starting my residency in obstetrics.” I winked. It was cheesy, but worth it when it made her smile. Holding up my hands, I wiggled my fingers. “These mitts were meant for catching babies and playing bass.”

Laughing, she poked me with her toe. A few seconds later she took a deep breath and let out a big sigh as she visibly relaxed her muscles and released the tension in her body. She then inhaled again, slowly through her nose, and just as slowly, exhaled through her mouth. I rubbed the top of her legs through the blanket.

When the contraction ended, I checked my watch and jotted the time down on the paper. Four minutes since the last contraction.

“How was that?”

“Tolerable.”

I looked at the wall directly across from her and noticed the painting of clouds from overhead, as if from an airplane. It was fine, as far as art was concerned, but Madison had said she loved the large colorful painting that hung on the wall in the primary bedroom. It was an Impressionist vision of a beach at sunset. Far more interesting, in my opinion, than the clouds, so I swapped the one from the bedroom with the one from the living room.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you liked this one, so I figured it would make a better focal point for you during contractions. What do you think?”

Her smile said it all. “It’s perfect, Ian. Thank you.”

Before returning to my spot on the sofa, I heated up some of the turkey soup for the two of us, poured it into handled bowls, and carried them back to the sofa, where I sat back down and put her feet in my lap.

“Eat what you can,” I suggested. “Even if you only sip the broth. You’ll need your strength later.” She opened her mouth to argue, I was certain, but changed her mind. She was giving up control, which meant she trusted me to get her and our baby through this.

It was heady, scary stuff. Especially for a former screwup.

Darkness had fully descended, and I couldn’t help but notice that despite the low light, and her obvious discomfort, Madison Enright was still the most beautiful and brave woman I’d ever seen. In that moment, as she suffered through the pain to deliver our baby, I would’ve traded places with her in a heartbeat.

“I own seven hundred pairs of shoes,” she said breathlessly.

I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. It was random. And excessive, but considering I’d rearranged her pantry-slash-shoe closet, believable.

“O-kay.”

“Tell me something random.” Her face glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and she bit down on her lip. “Quick.”

“Um…I have synesthesia.”

Her eyes widened. “What the hell is that? Is it genetic? Will it affect the baby?”

I moved to the floor beside her and rubbed her hand. “I don’t know if it’s genetic; no one else in my family has it, but it’s nothing to worry about. It’s kinda cool in fact. It’s my superpower.”

“Explain.”

“I can hear colors.”

Her head popped up off the pillow where it rested. “Excuse me?”

“I can hear color. Synesthesia is when two senses are combined. For me, it’s sound and color; particularly music. I hear certain notes and see the color attached to those notes. It has all the benefits of hallucinogens, but without using drugs.”

The way she eyed me said my explanation left a lot to be desired.

“My type of synesthesia is called chromesthesia. I hear notes in color, like a C is red, and a D is always blue, G is a bright green, and so on. When I hear a song, I see the colors flash in my head. It’s something that will help me remember that song by remembering the colors.”

Madison gripped my hand tighter. “Hang on,” she grunted. “We’re not done.”

As the contraction eased, I jotted down the time. We were less than three minutes apart. The storm had begun to rage. The quiet from earlier had given way to gusts, but it sounded more like rain than ice.

Madison relaxed back into the pillows. “Tell me what you see?”

“As a synesthete?”

“Yeah.”

“When I hear music, whether I’m playing or listening, the colors of the notes combine and swirl. It’s almost like watching the aurora borealis.”

“I want to see that.”

“You want to see inside my head?” I teased.

“God, no.” She gave as good as she got. “I want to see the northern lights.”

“Me too. It’s on my bucket list.”

“Same.”

“How about I take you? We’ll go to Iceland.”

I dabbed a damp cloth on her forehead and followed that with a light kiss. She smiled at me, weary. “I’d like that.”

“Next year for sure. We’re going,” I promised. “Now, can you try to rest in between contractions? I know it’s hard, but you’re gonna need all your strength later.”

She closed her eyes but asked me to tell her something else about myself.

“I used to be the class clown.’

Her eyes opened and she frowned. “Tell me something I don’t know, Ian.”

“I’m afraid of flying. Terrified, actually.”

“Seriously? You fly all the time.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“You had a choice these past few weeks, flying back and forth with me for my doctor’s appointments.”

“Not if I wanted to be with you, I didn’t.”

“So you did something that scares you? For me?”

“Terrifies me, and yes.”

Her bottom lip jutted out and she held out her arms, wiggling her fingers for me to come in for a hug. I did, happily. “Ian.” Her arms tightened around me. “That’s so incredibly sweet.” She moved her hands to cup my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “You better be careful,” she said, her nose rubbing against mine.

“Why is that?”

“You may find yourself stuck with me.”

“Then let me promise you this. I have no plans of ever being careful again.”

Her eyes filled. When she squeezed them closed a few seconds later in what was another contraction, tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. I ran my hand over her belly, noticing it was rock hard. Sympathy pains infiltrated my gut and groin.

“If I could do this for you,” I murmured, “I would.”

When she could speak again, she said, “I know.”

Those two words meant everything.

“I’m gonna grab more firewood off the back porch. You gonna be okay by yourself for a minute?”

Her eyes closed again, and she nodded. “I’ve got Finn. We’re good,” she murmured. I kissed her forehead. The moment I got outside, I called Joey. “Where we at, man?”

“Nowhere. It’s too hard to get out. I’m sorry, but the minute I can get on the road, I’ll be there. The rain is making it worse. It’s freezing on contact. I wish I had better news, but my hands are tied.”

“Fuck. Just get here the second you can.”

“I will. I’m sittin’ by the window watchin’ the road. The minute it’s safe, I’m on my way.”

I hung up and dialed 911. “Please tell me you’ve got some kind of unit on the way.”

“Not yet, I’m sorry,” the operator answered. “But we’re trying. I can assure you.”

“Assurances aren’t going to deliver this baby,” I growled. “Her contractions are under two minutes apart.”

“Are you prepared to deliver the baby if we can’t get a rescue team to you?”

What a dumb question. “Of course I am,” I shouted. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

After encouraging me to take a breath, and then insisting we go over everything I needed to have on hand to deliver the baby on my own, the dispatcher instructed me to call when Madison was about to deliver and someone would get on the line to guide me.

I tucked my phone into my back pocket, filled my arms with firewood, and stepped inside to the most pitiful sound I’d ever heard.