Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Michelle
Twenty-nine weeks pregnant
H ope can suck it.
I throw my phone on the twin bed in Hunter’s room.
Hunter
Sorry, a meeting came up I can’t miss. Can we do the nursery this weekend?
I ignored my mother’s voice in my head calling me a nag when nothing changed after the bathtub moment and started asking if we could work on the nursery. Which involves getting rid of the bed Hunter’s been insisting on sleeping in. If that’s why he’s dragging his feet, or something else, I don’t know, because he won’t tell me. I’m afraid I’m close to a breaking point where I’ll need to decide whether it’s healthy to have him living here anymore.
My heart hurts at the thought of him leaving and spurs me into action. No, Hunter, we can’t do the nursery this weekend. We’re doing it to-fucking-day .
I stand with my hand on my hips, looking at his bed. My gaze lands next on my belly.
Okay, we’re doing what I can do on my own right fucking now. If that means it smells like paint fumes while he tries to sleep, so be it. I tuck my phone into my sports bra and survey the room.
Hunter did clear one wall of furniture, so I decide that’s the wall I will paint. I manage to lay out a drop cloth and pray I don’t drip on the carpet, because there’s no fucking way I’m getting down there to tape it to the baseboards.
Part of my mind recognizes I’m making irrational choices right now. I’m going to do a shitty painting job not fully prepping and may create more work in the end. But ask me if I fucking care. I need to do something.
I’m bending to pour paint into the tin when the pain hits. A cramp in the lower part of my bump. I straighten, twisting a little bit this way and that, hoping to work it out. The pain flares again.
Okay, no painting. Too much bending. I abandon the open paint can and the tin to be dealt with later and decide to move to the dresser. We’ve gotten a few things for Cumulus so far. I’ve washed them, but they’ve been sitting on top of the dresser since Hunter’s clothes are in the drawers. Time to put them away.
The top drawer slides open and I scoop up an armful of boxer briefs, intending to throw them on the bed. They fall to the floor at my feet as the pain appears again, the sharpest yet.
Maybe it’s gas. I should try to go to the bathroom. Plus, then, I’m sitting. Win-win.
I walk slowly to the bathroom like any sudden movements may trigger the pain again. I pull down my pants, sit down, and then I see it. A spot of red on my underwear. A smear appears on the toilet paper too.
“Okay, okay. Don’t panic.” It’s time to talk out loud to myself. I pull my phone out and call Hunter. As it rings, I reflect on though things are weird and tense, he’s still the one I call first. Voicemail.
I try one more time, hoping to break through Do Not Disturb if it’s on. Voicemail after the second ring.
My jaw clenches. I send a text, asking him to call me as soon as he can. I dial a different number.
“Hello?”
“Jax, you answered. Thank fuck.”
“Michelle? What’s up? Where are you? It sounds all echoey.”
“Well, I’m . . . I’m in my bathroom. And ...” My voice shakes.
“I’m on my way. Keep talking.”
“I had a couple pains in my stomach, and now there is some blood. Not a lot, but a little, and everyone knows that’s not good ...”
“Just stole a cab from the Speaker of the House. Senator Marsden’s going to hear about that one tomorrow. Why don’t you get changed, grab your insurance card, and wait for me on the couch, okay? I’m going to tip the driver fifty if he gets me there in fifteen minutes.” A horn blares on Jax’s side of the call. “In fifteen minutes alive ,” she emphasizes.
A near traffic accident shouldn’t be funny, but I find myself laughing.
“There’s my girl,” she says. “I’ll be there soon, okay?”
Twelve minutes later, Jax is opening my door, using the access code I sent her for the front door. “You don’t always leave this unlocked, do you? Of course not. You unlocked it before you sat down. Okay, ready to go? The cab is waiting. I told him we’re not playing the speed game on this trip. Don’t worry.” She wraps her arm around me and locks the door behind me as quickly as she entered.
“Thank you, Jax.” It’s hard when your social circle has suddenly become people who are connected with your going-through-it boyfriend and you don’t know what you should or shouldn’t say. Still, the second she knew something was wrong, she dropped who knows what and got here.
“No more thank yous, okay? This is what you do for your people. Let’s get you to the hospital. Have you called your OB yet?” A twinge unrelated to whatever’s happening with Cumulus goes through my heart. We start down the stairs slowly.
“Michelle, where’s Hunter?” The heart twinge intensifies. I think she waited until the stairs to ask so I didn’t have to meet her in the eye.
“I don’t know. He texted he had some meeting. He might be with Hayden or Duncan or both.” I catch her nod once out of the corner of my eye.
“Can I call Charlotte from the cab and do some digging?” We reach the car, which gives me the time until she climbs in the other side to answer.
“Yes, please. Find him. I want . . . I need him here.”
That’s all she needs before the phone’s at her ear. “Charlotte, I need you to find Hayden. Is he with Hunter?” Her answer is muffled. “I’m on the way to the hospital with Michelle. He’s not answering our calls.” I flash her a grateful smile for leaving out I’m not sure where exactly he is.
I hear Charlotte’s voice loud and clear now. “Shit, I’ll find them right now. I think I know where the meeting is. I’ll head that way now. If Hay doesn’t answer, which he fucking better when I call repeatedly, I’ll deliver the message in person.” The line goes dead.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say fuck before,” Jax says, the fondness clear in her voice. This makes me laugh, and she joins me. Her hand reaches across the seat for mine. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” I whisper, my hand resting on my stomach. It’ll stay there until someone pulls it away.
“You’re right,” she says, squeezing my hand, right as we pull up to the emergency room. “I really, really hope it will be okay. But if it’s not, you’re not alone.”