Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Having a baby took a long time.
Evan didn’t give a shit for himself, but Sam looked exhausted, and Hillary was—
He wasn’t even sure he could describe what Hillary was. He thought she was having an out-of-body experience while also having more pain than any one human being should ever have to endure in a twenty-four-hour period.
If she didn’t pop that baby out soon, he was going to dive in there and grab it and pull it out himself, just so she could stop crying and panting.
If he thought this was bad, he couldn’t imagine how Sam felt.
Annette had shown up a couple of hours after the last phone call from him, bearing all sorts of things in bags—a nightgown for Hillary, a package of clean underwear Hillary probably wouldn’t need for days, according to Sam.
Snacks, drinks, things no man needed to contemplate in another little bag.
A hairbrush and toiletries and stuff that wasn’t a real issue.
She’d finally settled in somewhere over there on the couch with her knitting needles and a thing of yarn. Evan hadn’t even known Annette knitted.
He supposed it was better than smoking, which he knew Bobby had done for years when he was stressed. Like one cigarette every two or three months, but still that had been not so great for hockey.
Evan glanced at Sam, trying to decide if he needed anything. It was hard to tell because he was so focused on Hillary, but he wanted his lover to do some self-care, too.
Everyone else had had cat naps, either on the chair or on the couch, but not Sam. He was next to Hillary, holding her hand, talking to her, wiping her down with a wet washcloth, doing anything he could to make this situation better.
Evan wandered over to put his hand on Sam’s back, rubbing between his shoulder blades to help release some of the tension there. “You guys need anything? I can make a run down to the shop. It’s still open and there’s a Subway and a Starbucks too.”
“I’ll take something with lots of caffeine and sugar and maybe something in the baked goods area.” Sam gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, guapo.”
Hillary gave him a glare. “Can I have another Sprite?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. Annette, honey, did you want something?”
“Yes. A caramel macchiato with an extra shot, venti, maybe even bigger if they have it. If they have lemon loaf, I want that; if not I want cake pops.” She never even looked up from her needles.
This was his life now. He was reduced to servitude to laboring and/or formerly pregnant women. Good thing he liked both of them a lot.
He patted Sam’s back before heading out, stopping in the hallway to take a great big deep breath.
He would never show Hillary how worried he was, or how relieved he was to get out of that room. But now he was out, he felt as if a weight had fallen off him.
He’d spent the night while Hillary was sweating and grunting and crying alternately sitting next to her with Sam and talking to her and holding her hand and making plans for their road trip.
He hadn’t made any reservations yet, but he needed to know where they would have to stop and what kind of hotels they were going to need and all that kind of shit.
He liked to have a plan, especially when he was traveling. He was kind of used to hopping on a plane and going, sometimes even a private charter, depending on who was paying for it. This road trip was necessary, though, and it was something he could do, something he could provide.
Evan headed down to the Starbucks to order drinks and hit the gift shop. He’d already brought Hillary a stuffed animal, but he could get a few other things.
To his ever-loving shock he found Bobby down there in the Starbucks, sitting on one of the couches with his laptop on his knees.
“Hey, man, whatcha doing?”
Bobby winked at him. “Good morning. I’m just hangin’. You know, my girl’s up there.”
He did know. Annette was just a quiet solid presence. “There’s a waiting room up there near us. It’s nice. Better chairs.”
Bobby nodded. “I’d like that. I’ll help you carry shit up. I’m assuming Annette needs a gigantic caramel macchiato with an extra shot and a slice of lemon loaf?”
“Exactly.” And he needed coffee for him and Sam, a chocolate croissant and a couple of sandwiches. Then a Sprite for Hil…
“How’s she doin’?”
He blinked over, exhaustion riding him like the ghost of a missed shot. “This sucks, man.”
Bobby kind of tilted his head. “Does Annette seem stressed out?”
He shook his head. “Not really. She’s knitting and dozing.”
Bobby visibly relaxed. “Okay, that’s cool. I wouldn’t worry about it terribly much then.” He got a quirky grin. “Annette’s been through this a bunch, so she knows what’s what. She’s wicked good at babies and whatnot.”
“Hillary wants a Sprite. I thought I’d pick her up another… I don’t know—”
“Breathe.” Bobby said it like it was that easy.
“I’m trying. I can’t believe all of this.” That was God’s honest truth.
It had been five months—five fucking months, a little over, almost, okay, even six, but that was it—and he’d gone from being this free-wheeling bachelor with only work stress and a life that he loved, to having his granddaughter on the way.
He had a lover who was a rodeo cowboy with a dangerous job.
He was moving to New Mexico. He was in love. He was doing this.
Bobby stood up and eased him down into a chair. “Okay, okay, man. In and out, just breathe. It’s all right.”
He didn’t need to do this now. This was ridiculous. He stared at Bobby, trying to get air. “I’m moving to New Mexico to be with Sam.”
Bobby’s eyebrow went up. “You selling your house?”
He shook his head. “No, no. I need a place up here for work, and it’s not like Sam and Hillary won’t be coming up. I own the place outright anyway, so all I have to pay is the taxes.”
That was the easy part. Moving was the easy part because he wasn’t going to be taking most of his furniture and stuff. There were only a few pieces he wanted to bring from the house and the rest of it had come with condo anyway.
“Cool, cool. I mean I’m gonna miss having you around all the time, man.”
“I know, right, but it’s not like we don’t have video calls a lot and stuff anyway because I’m on the road.”
He and Bobby were brothers, though, as close as any blood family he had ever had. They’d been a D-pair together on the ice, and they had done some damage out there. They knew each other as well as two guys could, really.
“I’m just glad you found somebody, man. It makes me happy for you.”
He gave Bobby a ghost of a smile. “Thanks.”
That would pretty much be the end of talking about their feelings and shit.
“Okay, you tell me what you want to order. Sit here and drink this water. I’ll get them to put it on the bill too, and then we’ll take everything upstairs to the horde. Got it?”
He just pulled out his phone to text the list to Bobby so he could have it right there in front of him. “Don’t forget to get that Sprite out of the cooler.”
“On it, bud.”
He just sat there drinking his water and half dozing.
His phone buzzed, and it was Hillary.
Uncle Evan, please, I need a white chocolate chip macadamia cookie, please. Like, really bad! <3 <3 <3
He started cackling, finding he couldn’t stop.
Hil might be having a baby, but she wanted her white chocolate macadamia cookie.
He managed to get the text shot off to Bobby, but that was the best he could do.
Especially when the answer Bobby sent back was
Cookie, ho!
This might be a totally fucked-up situation, but it was one of the best groups of people he could be in a fucked-up situation with on earth.
He finally got another text from Bobby saying,
Come help me carry this shit
and he headed up to the front counter of the Starbucks, ready to lend a hand.
He grinned at Bobby, who was standing there by the pick-up area with a bag that no doubt had the Sprite and the baked goods in it, but the drink carrier still sat on the counter. “They probably think we’re feeding an army.”
“Nah, I told them we were having a baby. It was lots of “aw” and congratulations. Get in a little nap?”
“Just enough to be human again, yeah.” He grabbed two drink carriers. “Thanks for doing this.”
“You know it. I feel like I’m finally contributing something.”
They trooped to the elevator and headed back up to the nursing floor, where Annette came out and met them in the waiting room. “Hello, baby.” She titled her to head up to Bobby for a kiss. “You are my knights in shining armor.”
“You know it, babe. How’s she doing in there?”
“I think she might be having a little crisis. She needed to talk to her dad without me there, so I came out.”
Evan shook his head, glad he wasn’t in there right now. Although if Sam texted him, told him to get his ass in the room, he would.
“She’s all right though, yeah?”
“She’s gonna be fine. You’re a good guy Evan.”
“I just love them both.” Hell, all three of them. That was the truth. He adored them and he was so grateful they were gonna be his family.
* * *
“Papa, I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”
Sam kissed his baby girl’s sweaty forehead. “You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart. Do you want the epidural? You can do that.”
He wanted her to do it. He was heartbroken by her tears, and if he saw Max Biyalik right now, Sam would beat him to death.
It wasn’t reasonable, but he wasn’t feeling particularly reasonable right this second.
In fact, he was feeling closer to hysteria than he had been in a long damn time.
“I’m scared of shots, Papa.”
He did not snarl. “Those are your two options.”
“There’s no shame in it, sweetheart, and that said, I’ve done it both ways.” Annette was back in the room and was so gentle and encouraging.
She stared at him. “What do you think, Papa?”
I want you to stop this. I want you to have this baby so I can go somewhere and scream. “Well, you won’t be able to get up and walk around, and you’re up a lot, but it will stop hurting.”
“Mama didn’t have one.”
“No, she didn’t.” Valerie’s labor had been hard and fast, too quick for an epidural.
“Papa, help me.”