Chapter 32
GABI
Why in the actual hell can’t I get comfortable?
I’ve felt a few what I’d call mini contractions. I’ve read enough books, talked to enough moms, and watched enough videos to know this can’t possibly be “real” labor.
Though if this isn’t real, I was right to be nervous about actual labor.
Because this fucking sucks.
“Gahhh….” I try to moan as quietly as possible into my pillow, doing my best not to wake Shelby. She should get some sleep. It’s not like she can do anything for me.
I swallow down my groan as I see my phone light up on the nightstand.
Maddox
Everything okay?
Did the man already install the baby monitor in here? I wouldn’t put it past him.
Gabi
I’m fine.
Please don’t call me out on it… please don’t call me out on it…
But you’re answering a text at three in the morning?
And you’re texting me at one a.m. your time.
I couldn’t sleep. Worried about you.
You’re sweet, but I assure you, I’m fine.
I’m not giving the order to gas up the plane?
Stand down. I’ll send you the signal.
Gabi, we’re really bad at coming up with code words and signals.
It’ll be easy. I’ll send “GET ON THE FUCKING PLANE.”
Clear and to the point. I like it.
Get some sleep. You have to play football tomorrow.
Technically it’s later today.
Semantics. Go to bed Maddox.
Only if you’re sure you’re okay.
I’m fine. I love you.
Love you too.
I set my phone down and promptly turn my head back into the pillow. It’s not a contraction but fuck… something is going on with my body.
But I’m not in labor. And that’s what matters.
5:58 a.m. CT / 3:58 a.m. PT
“Gabi?”
I’ve been trying for hours not to wake up Shelby. Around 4:30, I moved into a spare bedroom so I could moan without alerting her that anything was wrong.
Apparently, that didn’t work so well.
“Go back to sleep,” I say, though my voice is gritty as I fight off a contraction. But it’s fine. My last one was maybe six minutes ago? Sixteen? Fifty-six? Who knows at this point, because really, what is time?
“Are you in labor?”
“I’m not in labor,” I insist. “My contractions are way too far apart, and in no way consistent.”
“You’ve been tracking?”
“Yes.” It’s not a complete lie.
“Gabi…”
“I swear I’m fine, Shelby. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”
I feel the bed move as Shelby lays down next to me. “I’m not going to sleep.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Please, one of us should get some rest.”
“Do I need to text Maddox?”
“Absolutely not,” I insist. “I promise you if my contractions get closer, we can text him. But right now, the closest one was twenty minutes apart. That’s not labor. I’m sure this is going to pass.”
Shelby gives me a heavy side eye. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. Now get some sleep.”
9:14 a.m. CT / 6:14 a.m. PT
“Fuck me!”
And not in the good way. Then again, “fuck me” is how I’m in this situation.
“Gabi.”
Shelby’s stern voice has me looking up from my spot that I’ve created on the medicine ball, my arms gripping onto the bathroom counter.
“Yes?”
“Can I text him now?”
“No. It’s four a.m. in California. Plus, I’m not in labor.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” I say, tossing my phone to her. “I looked it up.”
She takes my phone and reads it, but I don’t think she’s believing my highly vetted baby blog source. “At what point are you in labor? Because this sure as shit looks like labor.”
“When my contractions are consistently less than ten minutes apart, and even closer to six minutes. Or my water breaks. Neither of which are happening.”
Shelby gives me a side eye. “And you’re going to tell me when you’re there?”
“Yes. I’m going to tell you.”
“And you’re going to let me text Maddox.”
I let out another groan. Hopefully she thinks it’s because she’s annoying me. “And then I’ll let you text Maddox.”
12:02 p.m. CT / 10:02 a.m. PT
“Why are you not at the hospital?”
I look up from my odd positioning half on the bed, half on the medicine ball, to see Beau storming into my bedroom. “Hey big brother. What brings you by?”
“Shelby called me,” he says.
Shit. I must be worse than I thought if she did that. “You did?”
“Believe me, not the call I wanted to make,” she says. “But you’re being hardheaded and not listening to me, so I had to bring in backup. As much as it pained me to do so.”
“And I’m glad she did,” he says, looking back to Shelby with… wait… is that a little bit of care in his eyes? Wait! Is this it? Is my child already performing miracles by getting these two to not hate each other? “How could you not drag her ass to the hospital? Clearly, she’s in pain.”
I thought the thought too soon…
Shelby immediately gets defensive. “I don’t know Beau. Maybe because I’m not about forcing people to do things against their will.”
“She’s in labor!”
“She’s not in labor. Believe me, that was the discussion about six hours and three coffees ago.”
“This has been going on all night?”
“Yes. It has. And I didn’t sleep at all making sure she was okay and the contractions didn’t speed up.”
“And you didn’t think to call me?”
“I’m sorry, what were you going to do? Nothing. It was the middle of the night. There was literally no sense in calling you.”
“You don’t think I’d want to know? Classic Shelby. Her way or no way and God forbid you lean on someone for help.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call Beau to save the day. In a situation he couldn’t do anything for.”
“Stop!” I scream, and good timing too because a minor contraction hit at the same time. “Y’all, I love you both, but I really need you two to cool down the ‘Beau and Shelby Hate Each Other Show’ today. I just… I can’t.”
The two share a look and then give each other slight nods. It’s not saying I’m sorry, but it’s silence, and I’ll take it.
“What can I do?” Beau asks, kneeling on the floor next to me. “And can the answer be to take you to the hospital?”
“No, I’m…” I swallow a hiss, and whatever I was about to say next, as another very minor, nothing to worry about, contraction hits me.
“Those were two pretty close together,” Shelby says.
“I thought I hid the last one.”
“You didn’t. Now can we go to the hospital?”
“I’m going to say something I never thought I would, but I agree with Shelby.”
She starts to reply—likely of the smartass variety—but Beau puts up his hand. “Just let me agree with you and maybe she’ll go.”
She swallows her words and gives him a glare, before sitting down on the bed next to me. “Please Gabi. Let’s go. Sure, they could send you home. I know that’s a possibility. But let’s have that peace of mind?”
“Fine,” I grumble as I let both Shelby and Beau help me to a sitting position. “But please, don’t tell Maddox yet.”
“Maddox doesn’t know!” Beau yells. “How could you not tell him?”
“Because I didn’t want him to worry, and he’s two hours behind us,” I defend. “I wanted him to get sleep for the game and to not worry about me when there’s nothing to worry about.”
“But he’s awake now and probably hasn’t gone to the stadium yet. This is the time to pull him away before his game begins.”
I think about it for a second, remembering his face and how upset he was during our fight about him traveling around the time of the birth.
“I know that, but when it’s a false alarm—because it’s going to be—then he’s distracted. He’s going to have a horrible game and it’s going to be my fault.”
“You need to call him,” the two of them say simultaneously. I know they’re serious because neither makes a remark to the other about stealing their thoughts.
“And I will. When there is something of note, or anything to worry about, I’ll alert the Emergency Maddox System. But we’re not going to need to do that. We’re going to go to the hospital, they’re going to check me out, and then they’re going to send me right back home.”
3:05 p.m. CT / 1:05 p.m. PT
“Gabi, your doctor wants us to admit you.”
I look to the emergency room nurse, who I clearly heard wrong. “Excuse me? I think you said the wrong words.”
The nurse clicks a bunch of buttons on her rolling computer. “Nope. Getting you ready now. There’s a bed upstairs and you’re even getting the VIP treatment as one of the nurses from labor and delivery is going to personally escort you there.”
The only relief right now is that I know that nurse has to be Ainsley. Thank God she’s working today.
“I’m in labor?”
“I don’t want to say for sure. It’s better for your doctor to answer those questions, who’s on the way.”
When I reluctantly look to Shelby and Beau, they’re sending me the same look. It reads “we told you so.” They’re even standing the same way—arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
“All it took for you two to get along was for me to be wrong?”
“No, all it took was for you to be an idiot,” Shelby says. “Now can I call Maddox? Please.”
I look up at a television from my bed in the emergency department. The Fury’s defense is running on the field, and like the world is sending me a signal, the camera zooms onto number thirty-five.
I’m not going to hold back on him. I want him here. I’m going to need him here. But, I want to make certain.
“You said the doctor is on her way?”
“Talked to her myself,” she says. “By the time you get to your room, she should be there waiting for you.”
“Then we wait,” I say to Shelby and Beau. “It’s not going to be much longer. At this point, what’s the difference of twenty minutes?”
3:35 p.m. CT / 1:35 p.m. PT
“Bad news, you’re in labor. Good news, at least for you, is that I'm contributing to your child’s college fund.”
“Fucking told you!” Shelby yells.
“Not now,” I scold her before looking back at my doctor. “I’m really in labor?”
She nods and makes a few notes as Ainsley gets me situated. “You are. Now, the second piece of good news is that it’s early. But it is active. Ainsley here is going to be doing checks for me every hour, and you call her if you need anything.”
“And I’m not leaving until this little one makes his entrance,” she says. “I don’t care if it takes all night.”
“Shit!” I yell out, looking panicked to Beau and Shelby. “I didn’t bring anything. I thought I was going home. My bag. The baby stuff. It’s—”
“I’ve got it,” Beau says. “Tell me everything you need.”
“Already taken care of,” Shelby interrupts, stepping a little bit ahead of Beau. “I put it in my car hours before you agreed to come. That way it was ready.”
“Look at you, Bell. Planning ahead.” Beau says.
Shelby glares at Beau. “Don’t call me that.”
“What? You did a good thing. That’s a good name. I was trying to be nice!”
“Enough you two,” I say as I take a few deep breaths, the weight of the situation suddenly crashing in on me. I’m so overwhelmed I don’t even take a second to truly process that Beau used the nickname he used to call Shelby when we were kids. “How much time do you think I have, Doc?”
“It’s going to be a while,” she says. “Then again, I didn’t think I’d be here with you this weekend. So what do I know? I’m only the doctor.”
Her humor isn’t appreciated right now as Shelby takes my hand, and the floodgates open. “I fucked up…”
Like he knows I’m talking about him, I look up at the television through my tears to see Maddox leap through the air and pick off a pass. He jukes around one player, makes another one miss him, and then he’s off toward the end zone for a touchdown.
“Make the call,” I say to Shelby. “Tell him to get his ass on the fucking plane.”