Chapter 44
forty-four
“Look at that, baby.” Gerty pointed up, though she’d been cradling West and they’d both been looking up into the dark summer sky for the past ten minutes.
The firework exploded—finally—and sheer gold sparks formed into what Gerty had grown up calling “witch’s hair.”
“It’s the witchy one, Momma.”
Gerty shifted, her sciatic nerve uncomfortable on this metal bleacher, despite the blanket and pillow Mike had brought for her. “Yeah,” she said amidst the patriotic music blaring over the crowd.
Mike moved too, supporting her from behind, the way he had been all night. But they couldn’t lie on the lawn the way they had in past years, and they couldn’t make their annual trip to Coral Canyon to celebrate the Fourth with Mike’s aunts, uncles, and cousins.
Gerty was due with her second baby in only two days, and she’d never been more uncomfortable. Another round of fireworks filled the air, this time filling the sky with red, white, and blue sparks as the song ended.
The unmistakable tightening across her belly made Gerty gasp. She automatically reached and clamped her fingers around Mike’s forearm, and he leaned down. “Mike,” she gasped as families around them oohed and ahhed at the next round of cascading sparks.
This could not be happening. Perhaps she’d just felt the baby move.
“Are you okay?” Mike practically shouted in her ear.
Gerty released her grip on his arm and turned to look at him. His dark eyes scanned her face with the same intensity she’d seen during their most serious discussions.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think I just had a contraction.”
Panic ran through Mike’s eyes. He blinked. It cleared. “Okay,” he said, and he started getting to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Gerty had to move as he did, and she stumbled to her feet too. A white-hot pain shot across her stomach and around to her lower back. “Oh,” she groaned, and that was definitely a contraction.
“Momma,” West complained. “Why you movin’?”
The music started to crescendo, and along with it, so did the fireworks being shot into the sky.
“We have to go,” Mike said loudly, and he scooped West into his arms. “Leave everything, Gerty. My parents can get it.”
“They’re down on the lawn,” she said, her breath coming quickly.
Others in the crowd turned their way, and Mike said, “Sorry, everyone. My wife is going into labor. Can I get a path cleared?” He gripped her arm this time, and because he’d spoken in his CEO voice, people actually did what he said.
They cleared a path. In fact, one man went ahead of them, calling out, “Make way, please. This man’s wife is going into labor.”
“Good luck, honey,” one woman said, but Gerty had gone face-blind. She pressed one hand to her belly and kept the other knotted tightly in Mike’s.
They’d just reached the end of their row when another contraction hit, stronger this time, and Gerty doubled over slightly, one hand pressed to her rounded belly.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said. “We need to get to the truck.” He looked up the aisle to the top of the bleachers, which they’d walked down to their seats. The parking lot sat up there too, and Gerty did some quick calculations in her head.
You can’t stay here, she thought, and with that, she took the first step.
The same man helped keep the steps clear, and by the end, he was also gripping Gerty’s other arm and helping her step up.
“Maybe your mom can take West,” Gerty gasped when they finally reached the top.
“There’s no time,” Mike said. “He came so fast, Gerty. We have to go now.”
She remembered how fast West had come, and people said second babies came even faster. But her water hadn’t broken yet, and she set her jaw and kept putting one foot in front of the other.
She made it to the truck; Mike strapped in West while she let the stranger help her into the front passenger seat. “Thank you,” she managed to say before another contraction stole her breath.
“Yes, thank you so much, Steven.” Mike shook the man’s hand and ran around the front of the truck.
“How do you know him, Daddy?” West asked, because Mike seemed to know everyone. Well, at the very least, they knew him.
“We met him tonight, buddy,” Mike said, shooting a glance over to Gerty. She pulled her seatbelt across her body, but Mike just put the truck in reverse and backed out of the stall.
“Maybe we’ll beat the traffic out of here,” he said. “Can you imagine if we got stuck in the flow of people leaving the fireworks?”
Gerty pressed her eyes closed, that awful scenario entering her mind. “And I was worried about getting snowed in with West,” she said, her breath coming quickly. “I thought a summer baby would be easier.”
Mike chuckled, because yes, all of Denver was celebrating the Fourth of July two days early—tonight, a Friday, when they could stay up late and sleep in tomorrow. Otherwise, they would’ve had their town celebration on the Fourth, and everyone would’ve had to go to work the next morning.
Mike had given the entire company at HMC the next two weeks off. No emails. No online meetings. No texts. “Plastic will still be here in two weeks,” he’d said, and this was an initiative he’d started implementing every summer for the past few years.
All employees had paid time off for two weeks in July. The building turned into a ghost town. No one was even allowed in—not even security guards.
“Daddy, why you drivin’ like that?”
Gerty grinned, because West was the ultimate backseat driver. He had to know everything too. Who was that man, Daddy? Where are we goin’, Momma? How much is a dollar? Can I get a puppy for myself like Max and Boots? I’m so good with dogs, Momma.
“Because, buddy,” Mike said. “Momma’s gonna have the baby tonight.”
“Finally,” West said, and that got Gerty to giggle a little bit, despite the situation. “What are we gonna name this baby?”
He sounded so much like his father that Gerty opened her eyes and looked over to her husband. “What a great question.”
“No, the great question is whether or not I can deliver this baby in the backseat of this truck.” Mike slowed at the same time he spoke, and the next thing Gerty knew, they’d come to a complete stop behind a line of cars.
“What is this?” she asked.
“The fireworks are over,” Mike said. “And this is the other side of the arena. They’re out already.”
Gerty blinked at the red, red, red tail lights in front of her, her panic rising like the ocean at high tide. “Mikey,” she whimpered. The word turned into a moan as her belly tightened again—and her water broke.
She sucked in a breath and swung her attention to Mike. “My water just broke.”
Mike gripped the steering wheel with both hands, kneading the solid surface as he stared at her. Then he looked out the windshield and said, “Call Opal Hammond.”
He really needed to update his contacts to include Opal’s new last name. She and Tag had been married for almost two years now, after all.
“Calling Opal Hammond,” his truck said back to him.
“What are—?” Gerty yelped as Mike swung the wheel violently to the left.
“Hang on,” he said. “West, buddy, hang on, okay?”
Gerty pressed one hand to the top of her baby bump—really a mountain—and reached for the handle above the door with the other. “Mike,” she gasped.
“We can’t wait,” he said, and he laid on the horn as he went up and over the curb, the height of the truck and the width of the tires making it easily.
Other people honked back at him, but Mike obviously didn’t care. Behind her, West started to cry, and Gerty twisted to reach one hand toward him. “Baby,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “Westy, honey, look at Momma.”
His dark, sad-scared eyes would’ve inspired tears in anyone, and Gerty’s hormones had been all over lately. Her eyes filled with tears too, but she said, “Hold my hand. Daddy’s in control, and he’s going to take good care of us.”
Gerty trusted her husband explicitly, and she kept her eyes on West’s as Opal finally answered the phone. “What’s goin’ on?” she asked. “There’s one more song at this concert.”
“Gerty’s gone into labor,” Mike said as the wheels bumped over something. Gerty hoped it was something like shrubs, because any other alternative wasn’t pleasant. “We’re trapped in some traffic I’m trying to get us out of, and I might need that crash course in emergency delivery now.”
Opal said nothing, which really spoke volumes.
“Hold on, guys,” Mike said. “I have to go over another curb.” He gunned the accelerator first, and the bumps this time were definitely bigger than before. It felt and sounded like the truck had just lost a bumper or a hubcap, and Gerty couldn’t hold back the cry that flew from her mouth.
“Okay,” Mike said. “We’re fine now.”
West wailed out another cry, and Gerty squeezed his hand.
“Westy, we’re fine,” Mike said firmly. “Hush up, now, okay? We’re okay.”
Gerty nodded at her little boy. “We’re okay.”
West nodded and sniffled as he started to calm. “Why you cryin’, Momma?”
Gerty shook her head, because she didn’t know. “Lots of reasons, baby.”
“Where are you?” Opal asked, and Gerty released her son’s hand and faced the windshield.
“We just left the rodeo arena,” Mike said. “I came out the east side, went over some curbs, and I’m taking the road a bit north.”
“I’m getting in the car right now,” Opal said. “I’ll meet you at the junction of thirty-six and Harrington.”
Mike looked over to Gerty. “How far are we from that?”
Gerty shook her head, because she had no idea.
“I can see you on my map,” Opal said. “I’ll probably be two minutes behind you, because you’re moving fast.”
“My wife is in labor, and we barely made it last time,” Mike clipped out.
“I’ll meet you and take West,” Opal said. “I’ll call the hospital and let them know you’re incoming.”
“What if the baby comes faster than I can get her there?” Mike asked, and he looked out his side window, almost like he didn’t want to face that possibility.
Gerty didn’t want to, she knew that.