Drusilla 45.
The sweep of the brush across my closed eyelid is oddly tranquil. I need tranquility. I need pretty. I need to weigh 30 pounds less and be able to see my cooch. “Ugh.”
“Don’t move.” Steve snaps when I shift on my seat again. It’s Saturday, early afternoon, nothing going on that needs anyone’s attention, and the entire club is just kinda chilling. Ceres and Thimble are upstairs, probably trying to make a brother or sister for Roman, who is happily toddling after Cassie as she makes her rounds to the club members and ol’ partners in the clubroom today. Mars and a few others are in the gym, including my dear husband. Can’t skip leg day, need them boys strong to fuck us against walls all willy nilly.
Sibyl and Vesta are sitting next to me in our makeshift dressing room. It’s just the empty corner by the pool tables, but it’s perfect for Lex, Steve, and Chase to do us preggos up drag style. I am a little bitter that I’m not a queen or czarina, though I’m beyond happy for Marlena. I’m 17 months pregnant and my back hurts, my boobs ache, and I just want to meet the perfect mixture of Jupiter and I that I’ve been baking. The nursery is ready, my parents are on stand-by, and the car seat is locked and loaded in the car.
Just need baby Castillo.
Of course, my child would be obstinate from the beginning and decide when it’s good and ready to leave my, no doubt, luxurious placental accommodations.
“Ok. We’re done.” The snickering from the rest of the room doesn’t faze me in the least. Steve spins me around. I glance over at Sib and Vesta and nearly swallow my own tongue. Oh, fuck, that’s good shit. Ridiculous and utterly over the top and exactly what we needed to get out of this end-of-the-road-baby-blues. They stare at one another and then me, jaws dropped, eyes twinkling.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to meet my own reflection in the mirror that Steve giddily holds for me. “Oh, sweet Moses!” I burst out, cackling, my eyes ping-ponging from my Texas-sized hairdo to my exaggerated lips in bright pink, big eyebrows and so much contouring. “Ahhh! It’s perfect!”
“Aunty Maneater…you look…pretty?” Cassie stands in front of us aghast, looking to Etta for guidance.
“They look ridiculous. The word you want is ridiculous.” Etta echoes my own thoughts, her voice reedy from laughing too hard at our appearance.
“Ok.” Cassie places her hand on my lap, then touches Sibyl and Vesta. “You look ridickimus.”
“Yes, dear, we do,” Sibyl spits out.
“Vesta!” Hair always short, it’s weird to see her with so much of it. “You should grow your hair out.”
She primps and preens, “I think I might.” With an exaggerated wink and a deeper voice than I’ve ever heard from her, she looks at Sibyl, “This do anything for you? Cuz, I gotta say, I’d let you do all manner of things to me if you keep that bright green wig on.”
I snort and dissolve further into laughter. A second later, I freeze, my entire body locking up tight, my eyes dropping to the growing puddle between my feet. Did I piss myself?
“Good God, woman, how big is your bladder?” Steve shrieks, jumping back from the splash radius.
“Mind your business,” I tell him, no heat to my words.
“Can’t,” he says, lips curling in disgust as he lifts one of his feet and then the other to inspect. “Your business is soaking my shoes.”
“Oh, my gosh!” Sibyl screams, clapping her hands with a big grin. “Your water broke!” Oh, shit. I knew that. I know what’s happening and yet I feel completely disconnected from it, like I’m observing someone else. Sibyl stops, freezing in place just like I did. Her own puddle forms, dripping to the floor. “Oh, my gosh! My water broke!”
On instinct the entire clubroom looks at Vesta. She waves us away, “Mine broke hours ago.”
Sibyl reaches out to grasp Vesta’s arm. “What? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I’ve been in labor since this morning. It’s mild and the contractions are not close together.”
“How are you so calm?” Lex whispers to Vesta. “If I was in active labor, I’d be freaking the fuck out.”
“Yeah, you’re a dude. I think everyone would be freaking out if you were in labor.” Vesta is so nonchalant about it, I giggle. “Also, I was in the military, you learn to stay calm in high-stress situations or you die.”
“We need to go to the hospital!” Sibyl is slightly hysterical; her reaction is actually calming me. I’m Maneater, I’m the fucking First Lady of the Golem Guerillas Motorcycle Club, I can handle a little person slithering out of my poon.
“Prospect!” Addy leans against the pool table, smiling at the three of us.
“Yes?” Johnny stops next to Addy, eyes drawn to the mess we’ve made.
“We’re gonna get these three to the hospital. Be a dear and clean this up.” She pats Johnny on the shoulder, then turns to walk in the other direction. “I’m gonna go get the men responsible. Fin!”
“I’m already recording!” And sure enough, there’s Finley, phone out, maniacal grin on her normally sweet face. “Can’t miss capturing the nurses’ and doctors’ reactions when they get a load of you three.”
“Hey, um,” Johnny begins haltingly, stepping carefully to assess the damage. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but I better get patched in soon for mopping up placental discharge. I think that goes above and beyond the call of duty.”