21. Carter
21
CARTER
T he snowflakes sting every time they melt on my skin as I trudge through the snow that now reaches just below my knees. I’m doing my best to get home, but I’m moving at a snail’s pace. I could say that I’m focusing all of my energy on moving, but that would be a lie.
Pure adrenaline and panic have me pushing to work as hard as I can to reach Rosie. My phone battery died right after she called me back to say that she is trying to remain calm, has set the mood with candles, and she’ll phone 911 again if she needs to deliver. Not one single thing in that fucking sentence has helped ease my mind.
The moment she hung up, I began my trek, which I can imagine is the same as climbing Everest. I shouldn’t have gone in to work, nor left her when she is so far in her pregnancy, but I did, and now there are consequences for my choices.
Rosie has to be okay, and I’m hoping the pain isn’t as bad as they say. Selfishly, I don’t want to miss seeing our child enter the world. There are so many reasons why I need to ignore how my muscles are beginning to ache from the weight of the fresh powdered snow around my shins and the gusts of wind that sets me back a few steps. Right now, I would play the privileged card if I could. None of it will work, though. The entire town has come to a standstill until the snowfall stops.
On a good day, the walk from our house to Main Street is twenty minutes. Right now, five of those minutes have turned to twenty already. I need to move faster, but I can’t.
Keeping my gloved hands stuffed in my pockets, I continue my journey with my heart pounding. The sound of a very slow Jeep catches my attention, and when I glance up ahead on the road, a speck of relief hits me, only to be refilled with adrenaline by the urgency of my situation.
I really fight the resistance of my body trudging against the wind to walk onto the street that is slippery. Managing to grab the man’s attention by waving my arm, the driver stops his Jeep, which has chains on the wheels. He keeps the emergency blinking lights on and opens the driver’s side door to look down at me.
Close enough, we both get a glimpse of one another through our coats and hats.
“Sheriff Carter?” Pete Smythe, my former opponent, seems to be confused.
I waste no time assessing that he is out in the snow, which isn’t surprising considering the guy chases tornados for a hobby.
Ignoring answering his obvious question, I cut to the chase. “You’re able to drive?”
“Slowly but surely.” He pats the steering wheel with pride. “Got this baby over the summer and can handle all extremes.”
“I’m not going to question this. I’m getting in.” I begin to circle the Jeep and open the passenger door and hop in.
The moment the door closes, Pete looks at me as he starts the engine up again. “Why are you out here, Mayor Carter.”
“Drive,” I bite out.
“Where to? I heard the plows started out on the east side.”
“To my house. Rosie is in labor.” My eyes search up ahead at the road to see if I’m giving myself false hope to get to her faster.
His eyes grow bold. “Say no more. I’ll get this bad boy up to twenty.”
Warming my hands, I do it more to stay occupied.
“First kid, right? We’re not supposed to say this as fathers, but the first birth is special, as everything is new. The second child you know what’s coming.”
“Well, I won’t even see the first if I don’t get there,” I grind out. My eyes scan the vehicle for a plugin. “Do you have a USB cord to charge my phone?”
“Sure thing, I even have enough water for the week under the backseat in case the apocalypse comes. The cord’s right in the dashboard.” There was zero sarcasm in that sentence because I’m well aware he stocks up on canned goods at the superstore near the highway.
I jerk out the line only to curse to myself, as it has the wrong end to fit into my phone. Someone upstairs is really testing me. Sighing, I sink back in my chair and try to remind myself that there is nothing I can do right now.
“I would say use my phone, but the signal has been iffy all afternoon.” Pete indicates with his head to his cell resting in the cupholder as he focuses on the road.
I yank it free and see there are no bars of signal. Angling the phone in different positions, I realize that it’s hopeless. Then a dreaded fear pings in my heart that Rosie wouldn’t be able to answer anyhow because she’s on the phone with the emergency services to help her.
Glancing to my side, I want to appreciate how Pete is happy-go-lucky and whistling a tune from West Side Story, but it doesn’t at all help me stay collected. Maybe he notices my grumbly face.
“It’s best if you try and remain unruffled. You’ll need your strength to help. Whether you miss the labor or not, the next few days will be life-changing. She’ll need you.” He offers his advice, and since he has five kids, then it can’t be too far off the track.
“I won’t miss the delivery.” I’m defiant.
He doesn’t reply, instead we steadily keep driving. I’m paying no attention until he begins to slow to a stop.
“What are you doing? We have to keep going,” I insist.
“We’re at the end of Everhope Road. You’re going to have to walk the rest. One of your neighbors has horrible parallel parking skills and is taking half of the street. I won’t be able to get this beast through.”
I can do this. Squinting my eyes, I even see a neighbor or two up ahead shoveling while their kids play in the snow.
I nod to him in understanding. “Okay. Thank you.” Opening the door, I hop out.
“You’ve got this,” he calls out.
“When I need to appoint city council president then you will be the first I recommend,” I say then shut the door.
Guessing the position of the sidewalk, I begin my quest to get home. At moments it feels like dead weight on my ankles, and other times my calves ache from balancing my weight on my feet to avoid falling.
“Hey there, Sheriff Carter. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with Rose?” A neighbor, Kelly, is shoveling the end of her driveway, with her hood nearly covering her entire face, as her son who is a freshman is busy arranging something by the garage.
“I didn’t realize you were home. Hopefully, Rosie messaged the neighborhood app. She’s in labor.”
She adjusts the end of the shovel. “She did, but then she sent a picture to all of us with candles and floor cushions saying that she was perfectly fine and finding her inner tranquility and you would be home any moment.”
Well, I’ll give Rosie credit for her extreme optimism.
My eyes blaze, and determination to get to my stubborn almost wife again now has reached epic proportions. “Do I look like I’m at home any moment?” I deadpan.
Kelly frowns, and her face screams sympathy. “Okay. Let me think… Snowmobile!”
“What?”
“Jay, bring out your snowmobile. The sheriff or mayor or whatever we are calling Carter these days needs it.”
“But Mom, I’m supposed to be meeting my crew down by the parking lot at the river,” he complains.
“You don’t have a crew . You live in Everhope. Now move it,” she chides then brings her hand to her heart. “I’ll re-text the neighborhood group and tell them that we were given false information about someone’s labor. But good news.” She splays out her hands as I stare at her blankly. “We already started making a list of who is delivering meals which days for the next two weeks for the new parents.”
She seems to grasp that it doesn’t feel like good news right now. Our eyes swing to her son tugging his snowmobile out of the garage. He seats himself behind the handlebars and scoots forward. “On ya go, Sheriff. Does this mean I won’t get in trouble for not having an updated safety education certificate?”
“Yes!” I get on behind him. “Now let’s go.”
Kelly begins to jump in place and clap her hands. “Good luck!”
“Let’s roll.” Jay revs up the engine, and I have to find my bearing as my upper body wobbles.
It doesn’t even take thirty seconds for me to realize that this kid should not be driving a snowmobile. The engine sound thrums in my ears, the snow feels like stones against my face, and the speed is questionable but gets the damn job done.
He barely stops before I jump off the snowmobile when it slows at the front of my house.
“Good luck,” he calls as I’m nearly leaping over snow. I ignore where he zooms away. I barrel through the front door.
“Rosie!”
The sound of a long grunt from upstairs informs me of exactly where I need to go. Skipping two steps at a time as I throw off my coat and gloves, I follow the sound straight to our bedroom.
Then I stop.
My head tilts and my brows furrow.
Candles are lit all around the room, there is the smell of lavender, rose, or jasmine or what the fuck hitting my nose, and background sounds of singing bowls play. There are cushions on the floor with beaded bracelets scattered around. There is also Jet with his chin resting on his paws where he’s lying on the floor.
Then there is my wife.
Past and future.
The warrior if I ever knew one.
She’s leaning forward against the wall in a tank dress, with one leg bent slightly to the side. She seems to be coming down from a contraction. The phone at her feet with a timer feels like decoration.
“Rosie… I’m here,” I tell her as calmly as I can, and I walk to her and touch the curve of her warm shoulder.
Relief and a giant smile instantly spread on her face. “You’re here.” She sounds breathless.
I smooth back her hair and kiss her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s good,” she cries. “Because I’m only a minute apart now.”
Reminding myself that a soothing voice is what she needs right now, I speak to her. “That’s, uh… quite close… perhaps a little too close for comfort… How about we call the emergency services again?”
“Hmm, maybe you’re right.” She sighs wistfully.
I can’t help but explore the scene in front of me and Jet who just perked his head up. Rosie notices and scoffs a laugh.
“I wanted to set the mood, and don’t you dare give Jet that look. He’s channeling his inner therapy-dog abilities.”
Even now, when we should both be petrified out of our minds, she causes us to laugh.
Caressing the sides of her face, I kiss her forehead again. “Why are you so calm?”
“I wasn’t. At first, I freaked out in panic. But then, I accepted this is what it is, and I knew deep down that you would be back. So, I set the mood and didn’t want anyone to ruin my aura.”
Only Rosie would do this.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’m so relaxed about it anymo—” She wails as another contraction washes through her body. Rosie grips my arms and squeezes tightly as she works through the contraction.
“Exhale, you’re doing great.” I’m fairly confident telling her to breathe is more for me than her, because it feels far too simple to say considering what she seems to be going through.
The wave floats away, and her short contraction is gone. “We can’t do this here.” She closes her eyes and purses her lips to breathe. “In this room, I mean. But we have no choice.”
I support her arms only for her to swat me away, and she drops down in some odd deep squat. Jet goes to stand by the door and watches us. He seems to refuse to leave.
“What the hell are you doing? Now isn’t the time for yoga!”
She grips my wrists and pulls. “It’s malasana, and it will fucking help get this baby out. He or she needs to feel gravity,” she snaps.
I blow a raspberry.
“Ohhh ahh.” Rosie struggles again. The contractions seem to be short but closer together. “Carter, gahh.” She leans forward to all fours, and I lower to give her the opportunity to lean her head against my shoulder. “There is no way around this. We’re having a baby here.”
Her honesty sucks the air out of my body, and she stalls to ensure our eyes connect in understanding.
“Please,” she begs softly. “Just make this stop,” she whispers.
My thumb swirls a circle on her cheek. “You’re almost there. I’m going to wash my hands and grab towels, hot water too because I think I heard that once,” I answer her. “Can you crawl to the bathroom? It might be a better spot.”
She nods in understanding. “Delivering a baby in our bathroom. Okay, we can do this.” She pants. Then she weeps. “I don’t think I can.” She stalls when she begins to move.
Rosie’s worn out and struggling, I can read it all over her body.
Cupping her face in my hands, I force her to lock our gaze. Her hair is damp, a sheen of sweat on her face, and still, she’s beautiful. “You can do this. I promise you, it will be okay. I’m going to call 911 now,” I inform her quietly. “We are going to have our little girl right here,” I rasp and admit the truth in hopes it encourages her to stay strong.
Her eyes light up, and a smile begins to curve on her lips with fresh tears in her eyes. “A girl?”
I grin at her. “Yeah… we’re having a daughter.”
She manages to swat me despite being completely washed out. “You kept it from me all this time.”
“You wanted me to! Now, I don’t think we should debate this. I’ll be quick.”
I help her to her knees to the side of the tub for support. Just in time, as another contraction hits. “Hurry! She’s here. I feel it. Ahh.”
Fuck.
I quickly go into action mode and grab clean towels from the side and snatch her phone from the other room and dial the emergency services.
The woman says hello and recognizes my voice right away, and I don’t have time to hear the rest of her spiel.
“She’s in labor. Yes, I have towels. And I’m calm.” The last part isn’t quite true, but I deal.
“Okay, Sheriff, I’m going to dispatch help. The plows have started, so they will get there, but most likely not on time. Be prepared and have a shoestring or string nearby.” Well, the lace on my shoe will have to do. “Can you see a head?”
Rosie’s eyes turn to saucers when she glances over her shoulder at me. “Oh, no, no, no. If you look down there, Carter, then we will never have a normal sex life again.”
“I don’t think we have much choice, sweetheart,” I grind out with a tight smile.
Rosie can’t refute because she’s now beginning to push. I get on my knees as Rosie is kneeling. I look and it’s a whole different world than what I’m used to, but there are no mistakes. “Yes, I see a head.”
“Okay, sir, let her push naturally, it might take a few times.”
“Come on, you’ve got this,” I encourage Rosie.
She grits out a long breath and winces as she pushes.
“Our daughter’s head is almost there.”
“Sheriff, be ready to support the baby, and have a towel nearby.”
Rosie gathers her breath before she pushes again. I wish I could hold her, but too much is happening between her legs that she parts wider open for the next two pushes.
“One last push or I swear to mother earth—” Rosie’s muffled sounds to accompany her long push lead us to our destination.
It feels as though I’m catching our daughter in a towel. It’s a brief moment before the sound of a cry fills the room.
“Sheriff, check the baby’s mouth and nose. Use your fingers if needed.”
But our daughter is healthy. Rosie moves to sit on the floor, and I hand her our little girl wrapped in a towel.
I don’t care about any fluid all over my hands or floor because Rosie and I both are in awe of our little girl who lies against her chest.
“She’s beautiful.” Rosie peers down.
“Yeah… she is,” I lament
Jet barks from the other room, and I forgot that he was here, but I hear him run away. The rest is a blur of what the operator says or when the paramedics arrive.
I’m completely in love with the two girls in my life.