Chapter 70
CHAPTER 70
ELIJAH
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
P en sits down with a grimace.
“Shit,” she mutters. “If I get any bigger, I’m going to need you to purchase haulage equipment.”
I bend down and drop a kiss on her lips.
“You’re beautiful. Even if you do require help to get up.”
She flips my arm with the back of her hand and grins.
“Good thing you’ve spent all those years working out. Hauling me out of the bathtub last week… I wasn’t even sure you were going to manage it.”
“Hey, that’s not fair. You were covered in soapsuds, and I didn’t want to drop you.”
Pen grins, and I drop down onto the sofa beside her, pulling her into my arms. My hand goes to her stomach, where I’m immediately greeted by a sharp movement under my hand.
“Little Frazer wants to say hi to Daddy,” Pen says as the kicking continues.
I move my hand, only to have it followed. My heart melts, and my throat clogs.
“Not long now, little one,” I say, untangling myself and placing a kiss where the last kick or punch came in.
Pen runs a hand through my hair as I rest my cheek against our child.
“The cake has arrived!” Lottie runs into the room, her excitement palpable. “Oh, Dad, leave my little sister or brother to rest,” she says.
“I notice you changed it around this time,” Pen says, grinning up at Lottie.
I look at my daughter, who winks.
“Can’t be giving it away by accident,” she says.
Lottie is the only one who knows the baby’s sex. Pen thought it would be fun for her to be involved in the gender reveal. Although she’s had help from Mum, Louise, and April in organising today’s party. Lottie is the only person who knows what the cake will reveal.
I chuckle and hold out an arm, inviting her to join us. She drops down next to us, her arm stretching around me, resting on Pen’s stomach.
“Hey, baby. I’m counting down the weeks,” she says, her eyes sparkling.
To say Lottie is excited about the imminent birth of her sibling is an understatement. Even with the birth of Leah and Gabriel’s identical twin girls, three and a half months ago, and little Callum growing up fast, she’s declared this is her own sibling, one she doesn’t have to give back or share. Pen laughed and told her she may not feel that way, once her baby brother or sister makes an appearance and is crying or taking her things. But she’s adamant, and knowing Lottie, she’s going to be an amazing big sister. Even dirty nappies don’t seem to be a deterrent. She’s been helping Leah with the twins to get in some practice.
“Why are you so excited? You’re the only person who knows, apart from our doctor, what the cake reveals,” I say, pulling her close.
“Exactly,” she says, grinning up at me. “And I’m guarding it with my life. No peeking, Dad.”
“As if I would.”
Both she and Pen look at me as if they don’t believe me.
“Hey, I’m hurt, you two.”
“Ha, the man who has spent his life running checks on people,” Pen says.
“That’s my job.”
“Is that so? How many times have you tried to get me to drop hints about whether you and Pen are having a boy or a girl?”
I shrug and grin. She has a point. She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow.
“It’s okay. I’ve locked the cake in Grandpa’s old office,” Lottie says. “No one is getting a preview. Not that you have much longer to wait. You really have waited until the last minute,” Lottie says as Pen shifts on the sofa. I know she’s struggled over the past couple of nights, trying to get comfortable.
“Need a hand?” I ask.
Pen shakes her head, her brows furrowing.
“No, it’s just this ache is getting worse. My lower back.”
She groans and I help to move her forward, massaging the area she’s rubbing.
“How long has it been going on for?” Lottie asks.
“A couple of days, but it’s definitely getting more acute. Your brother or sister is getting antsy.”
“Are you sure it’s not contractions? I was reading on the internet that sometimes contractions can be an ache, especially at the beginning.”
I look between Pen and Lottie.
Shit.
Lottie’s not kidding. I thought I was the one who had read up on everything.
“It’s early,” Pen says, her eyes locking on my daughter’s.
“But not that early. Eight and a half months. When they’ve already told you you’re having a big baby,” Lottie kindly reminds Pen.
Pen’s hand goes to her back, and she begins to rub circles again.
“Help me get up,” she says. “I’m sure if I move around a bit.”
Lottie and I stand in front of Pen, and each hold out a hand. She grins at us as we haul her to her feet.
“Oh crap,” Pen says, looking down.
My eyes follow hers, widening at the wet patch now soaking its way through her trousers.
“Looks like I was right,” Lottie says, heading for the door. “Granny,” Lottie yells as she disappears before reappearing quickly.
“Don’t just stand there, Dad. I’ll grab Pen’s bag and the baby stuff. You need to get to the hospital.”
As if given an electric shock, I cradle Pen’s face in my hands, my lips landing on hers.
“Hey, beautiful. You ready?”
“No.” she grins. “But it’s a bit late for that now.”
Her hand goes to her stomach, running it lovingly over her enormous bumb. When I told her, I couldn’t wait to see her swollen with my child. I meant it and still mean every word.
I take her arm and lead her to the door. Lottie reappears with one of Pen’s pregnancy skirts and a clean set of underwear.
“Thought you might like to change before we go,” she says breathlessly.
“Lottie, I love you,” Pen says, grabbing Lottie and pulling her in for a hug. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d have to deal with Dad all by yourself.” She grins and shrugs. “Dad, stop standing there and help the mother of your child, my baby… oops, nearly. Get out of her wet trousers and into something more comfortable. Uncle Caleb has brought the car around and is waiting for you. He’s put the bags in the boot.”
I jump into action, my head spinning. This is so different from Lottie’s birth. Darra had been induced. It had been calm until the contractions had really hit, but we had already been at the hospital.
Lottie and I help Pen into her skirt.
“I love you, Penelope Dawson,” I say, leading her into the hallway and down the stairs, my arm wrapped around her ever-expanding waistline.
Pen breathes deeply.
“Back at you, big man. Let’s do this,” she says, her eyes shining. “I think you were right about the contractions, Lottie,” Pen says, her white knuckles gripping the banister.
Lottie grabs her phone.
“Tell me when the next one hits.”
We make it halfway down the stairs when Pen bends double.
I curse under my breath.
“Okay, let’s go with the next one,” Lottie says, her eyes meeting mine.
We continue making our way slowly down the stairs and across the hall when Pen is hit with another contraction.
“Er, Dad, that was barely three minutes. I think we need to speed this whole process up, or I’m not sure you’re going to make it to the hospital.”
Mum appears next to me.
“I’ll call an ambulance.”
I scoop Pen up into my arms.
“No need, Caleb is waiting. We’ve got this.”
Mum rushes forward and opens the front door. Taking Pen’s hand in hers, she smiles.
“Hey, Franny, sorry to ruin the party, but I think your grandchild wants to be a part of it.”
“Same as its father. Elijah made an impromptu appearance, so it definitely runs in the family. Now get yourself to hospital, labour is enough drama for one day. A home birth… I think we can live without.”
Her arm snakes around Lottie’s shoulder.
“We’ll follow later.”
I make my way through the front door, Pen still in my arms. Caleb hops out and opens the back door.
“Your chariot awaits,” he says, making Pen chuckle.
“Thank you, kind sir, but can we get a shift on?”
“At your service.”
The rest of the family has followed us out of the house.
“No one touches that cake,” Lottie says, “Now we wait and see.”
I run back and pull her in for a hug.
“We’ll see you later,” I tell her.
“Dad, go! Get Aunty Pen and my baby… whatever… to the hospital.”
“Still no hints?”
She grins.
“Go!”
I sprint back to the car and buckle up. It’s going to be a nerve-wracking drive with the hospital fifty minutes away.