26. August
26
AUGUST
“Ugh.”
The smell of hot spoiled cabbage reached me at the same time “The Ride of the Valkyries” blared in my ears, dragging me out of unconsciousness. “Whtimizit?”
Nobody answered.
I popped up from my face-down position on the pillow, my hand hitting fur before redirecting to my bedside table to answer the phone.
“Sorry Merlin, but you really need a trip to the dentist because your breath is vile,” I told him.
Then it hit me that it was two in the morning and that was Morgan’s ringtone.
I was awake now.
“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately, my heart in my throat as I had a sudden flashback to the day we got the call about Mom. Morgan and I were together when it happened, and I’d never forget the look on her face as I dropped to my knees in shock. “Are you in the hospital? Is Gene in the hospital?”
“Breathe, August.” Morgan’s voice was still as croaky from sleep as mine was, but I heard the smile in her tone and took a calming breath.
She was okay.
“It looks like the baby has the Hudson stubborn streak. First, she waits until the last day of September instead of her scheduled arrival, and now she can’t hold off until the grownups have had a decent night’s sleep to make her entrance.”
“The baby? The baby is coming? Phoebe’s in labor? With a baby?”
I wasn’t sure how many new ways I was going to say that until it sank in. Thankfully, Morgan stopped me.
“Yes, to all of those questions. I see you still wake up like that. I’m on my way to their house right now. She said you promised to be there, so I thought I’d give you a call to see if you needed a ride.”
Much to her excitement—and Bernie’s dismay—Phoebe had gotten the all clear for a home birth at her last doctor visit and immediately converted their living room to a makeshift water birthing room. That meant we wouldn’t need to drive that far.
“It’s three minutes away,” I said. “I can meet you.”
“You don’t sound awake enough to drive.”
“I’m already out of bed.”
Mostly. I did a hopping, one-legged dance as I tried to untangle my ankle from the sheets and then pawed through the clean clothes pile I’d forgotten to put away, throwing on the first piece of clothing I could find.
That’s when I realized Wade was missing.
Where was he?
My bedroom door flew open before I had something new to panic about. His hair was sticking straight up and his eyes were wild. He looked exactly how I felt.
“Phoebe’s in labor and asking for you, so get that sweet ass covered and let’s get going. We’ll take my truck. ”
Wade was diving over the bed for his jeans and T-shirt like some thirty-years-younger parkour champion on a sugar high when I heard my sister repeat, “Sweet ass?”
Yep. She’d heard that. And there was nothing I could do about it now. “We’re on our way, okay, Morgan ? See you soon.”
After I hung up, he swore and wrapped me in his arms for an apology squeeze. “I should have known you’d get a call too.”
“Bah. It’s fine.”
It was mostly fine. It was one thing to have a mad affair with your sister’s bestie and invite him and his dog to live with you. But providing middle-of-the-night proof that you were sleeping together might be a little too in-your-face for this early in the relationship.
We were in a relationship now. We were living together. Should I be freaking out about it? About how much more complicated it might get if things went south?
Wade pulled on his socks, then stepped into his boots and bent down to lace them quickly. “The good news is, Phoebe is going to make sure no one has time to butt into our private life for a while.”
I looked up at him, my smile reappearing as all my minor, insignificant problems disappeared. “Because the baby is coming. You’re about to be Great-uncle Wade.”
He reeled like I’d slapped him. “Jesus.”
“To be fair, you were already pretty great a few hours ago.”
That won me a grin. “Finish getting dressed while I go unlock the back door for Kingston. He’s watching the dogs since Chick is still out.”
Wade drove his truck, holding my hand as we crawled through the speed traps and teasing me over my choice of pajamas for a water birth. My bottom half was covered in tattooed mermaids while the rest of me was swallowed up in one of his Hudson Garage shirts .
My socks didn’t match, but we did, because his shirt was on inside out and I think I saw a love bite on his neck.
Oops.
Neither one of us looked prepared for a birthing party. We looked hungover and sexed out. Which we were. We’d gone two more rounds before falling asleep. And I’d had three more mind-blowing orgasms because he’d decided to dive under the covers in between sessions to remind me how talented his tongue was.
With my wild curls up in a still-not-frizzy sloppy bun, wearing his shirt and my lips swollen from his kisses, no one would have any doubt what we’d been up to tonight. Not that it mattered. We were an official couple now.
I hadn’t been sure I’d ever go there again. But Chick had said I needed to tell him what I wanted, and that was what came out. I wanted him in my life in every way possible.
No second thoughts?
No. But I did feel like the cart might have gotten out a little bit ahead of the horse. He’d agreed to our coupledom remaining in the “temporary, check back later” category. And even though I’d told him I liked where we were, he hadn’t said the same.
So, something had changed dramatically but, like he said, nothing had really changed at all.
I was confusing myself.
Was this another shit sandwich in the making?
“We’re here.”
The porch lights were on and cars filled the driveway, including my sister’s. I headed up the three small steps to the porch, unable to keep from glancing at the house next door. The one that used to be mine.
Then the front door opened and Morgan was there, with circles under her eyes, a paisley bandana covering her curls and a handful of towels in her hands.
She stepped to the side. “Right this way, sweet ass. ”
Her voice was low, but I heard it and grinned. “Thank you very much, hot boobs.”
She snorted as we walked through the foyer. It was like walking back in time. Not much had changed—well, other than the fact that all the furniture was shoved aside to make room for the large inflatable birthing pool now taking center stage in the living room. It was surrounded by throw pillows, two of which were currently occupied, and facing a sixty-inch flat-screen television.
Morgan glanced at us over her shoulder as gunshots rang out. “Bernie said everyone should take some Tylenol because Phoebe can’t decide what relaxes her more—Disney movies, Taylor songs or this. She’s been rotating between the three for weeks, but this has been winning since the contractions started in earnest. I blame you, Wade.”
I recognized the show. The large vertical disc of what looked like water but was really a wormhole to other planets kind of gave it away. “ Stargate ?”
“ SG1 . I bought her the complete box set eight years ago,” Wade informed us. “I told you we used to watch it together when she was little. She had a crush on the geeky archaeologist. She always liked those academics.”
Despite the lightness of his tone, his face was pale and his attention was entirely focused on the woman sitting in the birthing pool instead of the screen.
Phoebe was leaning back, looking fairly comfortable at the moment. Her hair was in braids and she appeared to be wearing a sports bra, a towel and probably nothing else.
“How long has she been in labor?” I asked.
“She was having contractions all afternoon, but they were irregular and pretty far apart until about nine o’clock. The doula says she’s been in active labor since midnight.”
Bernie was sitting on a cushion beside Phoebe, and beside her was the doula—who, unbelievably, was crocheting a blanket of some sort, her hook looping through the variegated pastel yarn at a steady pace. Wasn’t she supposed to be boiling water or tearing up sheets to make bandages or something?
On the other side of the pool, two women I assumed were Todd’s mother and grandmother—the quiet one and the mean one, according to Phoebe—sat on opposite ends of the couch, looking uncomfortable but determined to stick out this very intimate event.
I squeezed Wade’s arm. “We should go say hello to Phoebe.”
“I’m only seeing women. Should I not be here?” he asked warily.
“You’re not the only man at the party. Todd’s in the kitchen making snacks and coffee with Yvonne,” Morgan said. “I’ll be right back. She asked me to get the pillow from her tub.”
Yvonne was here?
After she disappeared down the hallway, I told Wade, “Phoebe wanted you here. That’s all that matters.”
“Right.” He snagged my hand before starting forward, looking like he was headed into a war zone.
Bernie nodded at us, her expression serene as we knelt down on the nearest open cushions.
“Hey, munchkin.” He sounded choked up. “How are we doing?”
Phoebe smiled and held out her hand to him. “All quiet for the moment. Sorry about the early-morning jamboree.”
He pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Don’t you worry about it.”
“Phoebe’s doing great, Uncle Wade,” the doula said with a fond smile. “She’s in excellent shape, so her labor is progressing pretty rapidly for a first-time mom. Seven centimeters dilated and fully effaced, so she’s just about to enter the transition phase. Things will get pretty intense then. ”
Wade looked terrified. “That’s…great?”
“It sure is! I’m guessing we’ll have a new member of the family to cuddle within a couple of hours.”
He let Phoebe go and moved down to the next cushion so I could take my turn holding her hand. Just in time too—she closed her eyes, leaned her head back on the side of the pool and drew her knees up, taking deep breaths and blowing them out through her mouth as she squeezed my fingers just hard enough to let me know she was in pain.
“You good, sweetie?”
“Mmm.” She nodded, taking a faster breath and blowing harder. “They’re getting a little uncomfortable.” Another breath. “And lasting longer. Oh shit.”
I didn’t understand anything she said after that, but it got pretty loud and my fingers were yelling right along with her. “A little uncomfortable,” my ass. More like “a little unbearable.”
Bernie reached out to stroke her hair. “You’re doing so great, Pheebs.”
An eternity later, her hold on my hand eased and she opened her eyes, looking tired but relieved. “Now I know how the wishbone feels at Thanksgiving.”
“Ow,” I said, meaning it with all my heart and needing to distract the both of us. “That pool sure looks cozy, though.”
She snorted. “I know you think I’m nuts for not doing this in a hospital with ‘the good drugs’, but it’s so relaxing, I’m thinking of keeping it after the baby comes and watching television like this every night.”
“So relaxing. Apart from the explosions onscreen, and the contractions, where she yells in another language,” Bernie added.
“That’s normal,” the doula told her, still crocheting away like she had nothing better to do.
Bernie and I shared a look over the pool .
“I heard you gave birth yesterday, August,” Phoebe said with a fatigued but mischievous grin. “Maybe you should join me in here.”
“Well, sure,” I said wryly. “Because sending an email attachment is exactly the same thing as pushing an entire human out of your vagina in front of a live studio audience.”
Wade choked beside me while Phoebe giggled.
I patted his back with my free hand. “You want a water or a coffee? I need a coffee.”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.” He leaned over and kissed me absently before returning his focus to his niece.
Ignoring Bernie’s knowing gaze and Phoebe’s wide eyes, I got to my feet with very little grace and a few winces.
Do not limp in front of them.
I opened the kitchen door and startled when a pair of skinny arms and the smell of sandalwood immediately engulfed me. “Cutie pie!”
“Yvonne. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Wade’s seventy-year-old stepmother flung her hands in the air, the colorful bracelets on her wrists clicking together. “Flew in this afternoon. I guess it’s yesterday afternoon now. I had a feeling today was the day. Or Phoebe did when I called and she mentioned having twinges in her back. That’s always a telltale sign. I got here as fast as I could.”
“I’m so glad,” I told her. Yvonne was older now, but she’d hardly changed since she and my mother hung out together in the evenings, drinking wine and trying to read each other’s auras. She still wore her favorite turquoise earrings and her hair in a braid, though it was pure silver now. In her sleeveless sundress, she was a snapshot of my childhood come to life. “It’s really great to see you.”
She took both my hands, her smile turning somber. “I didn’t get the chance to talk to you at Sam’s send-off. You were surrounded by well-wishers and dark clouds, and I knew there would be hard times ahead. You and your mother were connected on a higher level, through a dozen lifetimes, so it was to be expected. But look at you now. You’ve got some color in your cheeks like you just got laid, and I see good things on the horizon. Bernie’s been talking about you and this race of yours every time I call. I’ll be coming back to cheer you two on from the stands.”
She lived a nine-hour drive away in Marfa, an extremely small-town famous for mysterious lights in the sky, art and hot springs. And, apparently, witchy nudity?
I smiled, squeezing her hands before letting them go. “That would be great. And you look good too.”
She guffawed. “I look old, but you’re still as sweet as ever. Will you help Todd out with the drinks and snacks while I go and give my boy a great big hug?”
“Of course.”
Todd was standing at the counter and staring at the coffee pot like it might hold the answers to the universe.
“Hey, buddy,” I said when he didn’t snap out of it in a timely manner. “How are you doing over there?”
He blinked and looked at me. “August? When did you get here?”
Really? He hadn’t noticed I was right behind him, having an entire conversation with Yvonne? “I came in to get a few coffees. Is there anything I can help you with?”
When he turned to face me, his hands in his pants pockets, I was struck again with how button-cute he was for a college art professor. If you ignored his red rimmed eyes, mussed blond hair and the slightly insane glaze over his expression, you could mistake him for a lost member of the boy band One Direction.
They’re not boys anymore.
Let me have my illusions .
“Actually, yes, you can,” he said, his eyes lighting up with a sudden fervor that made me take a step back.
I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, I wondered if this was what I looked like when I got a story idea mid-conversation. “ How can I help you, Todd?” I prompted.
“A few months ago, Phoebe told me you were thinking about selling your house.” He stepped toward me and took both my hands. His skin somehow felt feverish and clammy at the same time. “I want to buy it. It hit me tonight that I’ve been so busy trying to get her to marry me before the baby comes, I didn’t realize how unsuitable my off-campus apartment is for raising a child. There are hazards everywhere I look, August. We obviously can’t stay here forever. Phoebe needs a home of her own, and I’d live with her anywhere, as long as she was happy.”
His smile was shaky but hopeful as I stared at him. He must have thought I was listening closely instead of slipping into shock.
“Phoebe loves you and your family so much,” he went on. “And the pool. She’s giving birth in a pool, and she always said she wanted a pool like yours. I’d pay full price, and if we lived there, we’d leave the apartment open for you whenever you wanted to come visit us or your sister. It’s the perfect solution. I should have thought of it sooner.”
“I meant, did you need any help with the snacks,” I clarified weakly. Phoebe was shouting in the living room again, but I was too dumbfounded to react.
Todd was offering to buy my house. Right now. When I’d just started to consider staying and asked Wade to live with me.
If he’d approached me a few months ago I would have said yes. Giving my goddaughter a place to raise her child? That would have seemed like a sign from the universe that leaving was the right thing to do.
But everything had changed now. I wasn’t even tempted to consider it, which was something I’d really need to think about later. What did I say to him?
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Todd, but this might not be the best time to have this discussion. Why don’t we focus on Phoebe tonight and you can iron out all those other details later?”
“Sure, of course. You’re right. I’m just…” He lifted his hands to mimic an exploding head and I nodded. I didn’t blame him.
“August.”
We both turned to see Wade standing in the kitchen doorway, a pale and sweaty Morgan at his side.
“Sorry, I was aiming for our coffee, but I got sidetracked several times.” I took a closer look at my sister, who was actually leaning heavily against him and starting to turn a little green. “Uh-oh. I think we need to trade off, Wade.”
“What?”
I didn’t bother explaining because I could see there was no time. I grabbed Morgan’s arms and dragged her the three steps to the kitchen sink in time for her to throw up.
“There we go,” I said, rubbing her back. “I had a feeling this was going to happen.”
“ What’s happening?” Todd asked, sounding panicked.
“Nothing to worry about. Morgan was just never going to be a nurse,” I told him with a grin. “She’s too perfect for her own good, but she had to be bad at something, so she chose the inability to deal with other people’s pain and bodily fluids without vomiting.”
“Pain?”
Poor guy. He was really having a hard time with this. I glanced at Wade and he nodded, putting a hand on Todd’s arm. “Phoebe’s contractions are getting stronger pretty fast and she asked for you and August.”
Todd jerked as if he’d been electrocuted and turned back to me with anxious eyes .
“Okay, that means we’re up Toddster. You can do this. Put on your game face.”
“I don’t have a game face. And I didn’t finish the snacks. She wanted me to?—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Wade told him, staring at me enigmatically. “Go hold her hand, and I’ll look after Morgan.”
Todd gripped me like a lifeline and started dragging me away. I put the brakes on long enough to look at Wade over my shoulder. “Give her hot lemon water and crackers, and stick her on the back porch until this is over.”
It was something we’d learned to do while Mom was recovering from her bypass. Something we’d remembered when Gene was recovering from his surgery. Morgan always wanted to help and always made sure she was there when her family and friends needed her. But she had no patience with her patients, and anytime there was visible pain or something that needed to be cleaned up, this was the end result.
When we arrived back at the birthing pool, Bernie and Yvonne had momentarily disappeared, and Phoebe—exhausted and resting her head on an inflatable pillow Morgan must have brought from the bathroom—was quietly talking with Todd’s mother. The doula was still making her blanket in silence.
“Phoebe, I’m here.” Todd reached for her hand and kissed the back of her fingers as I got into position on her other side.
When the sound on the TV cut off mid-space battle, her head popped up. “What happened?”
“You can watch Encanto again if you absolutely have to, but I don’t think that violent trash is good for the baby. It’s certainly not appropriate,” Todd’s grandmother said stiffly, her hand clutching the remote without remorse.
His mother just looked down and shook her head as if she’d long since stopped trying to apologize for the old woman. She really was the quiet one .
Phoebe sat up a little straighter, wincing at the discomfort it obviously caused her. “It’s absolutely appropriate. The bad guys are parasitic worms that latch on to their hosts’ bodies and take over their lives so they can rule the galaxy. It sounds hilariously fitting to me.”
I wanted to laugh, but I wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate .
“Todd?” his grandmother said querulously. “Is she saying my great-grandchild is an evil parasite? Is that why we’re standing around this pool like idiots instead of sitting in a normal waiting room?”
I didn’t want to laugh anymore. “I believe the rule is that the woman in labor can say and do and enjoy anything she wants while the rest of us can keep our narrow-minded opinions to ourselves. Isn’t that right, Todd?”
I turned to give him some stink eye, but he was way ahead of me and already glaring at his grandmother.
“She’s right, Gram. You were the one who demanded to come here, despite constantly making Phoebe feel uncomfortable at every opportunity for not falling in line with your plans about what we should do with our lives. If you can’t shut up and support the brilliant woman I love while she brings our child into the world, then I think it might be best if Mom takes you home.”
The old lady gasped in outrage, and I squeezed Phoebe’s hand, murmuring “Good choice, munchkin,” as Todd’s mother led her outside.
“Why you gotta be so mean?” I called after them.
Phoebe laughed at the Swiftism I’d used in her honor, and then turned to beam at Todd. “I’m a little busy now, but do you want to get married later?”
Todd looked like he was about to choke on his own tongue. “You’re saying yes? Now?”
“The brilliant woman you love is asking you to say it. ”
That was what a man should look like after winning the lottery. Or being proposed to by my godchild.
Phoebe had the right idea. Maybe we both did. I’d asked Wade to live with me a few hours ago, and now she was giving Todd the romantic proposal she’d been waiting for.
The theme of the night seemed to be: If you knew what you wanted, why wait?
“Yes. Anywhere and anytime. I love you. Yes. ” He kissed her on the forehead and lips as I backed away to give them space.
“Do you want to come in here with me?” she asked sweetly.
In answer, Todd stripped off his shoes and stepped into the pool, fully clothed, situating himself behind her back.
And now I was crying. And resisting the urge to slow clap.
Way to go, Todd.
Someone took my hand and I looked up to find Bernie kneeling beside me. “I’ve been wanting to tell off that old bat for months.”
“I’m surprised she’s still alive. You’ve gone soft, Bernadette.”
“I was playing the long game to avoid suspicion.”
“Coffee and nibbles have arrived,” Yvonne said, carrying a tray and looking around the room. “I was checking on Morgan, poor dear. What did I miss?”
“Phoebe and Todd are engaged,” I said, my eyes still watering as I smiled.
“And Grandma Lane is no longer invited to Thanksgiving,” Bernie added happily.
“Amen to that,” the doula muttered under her breath.
Phoebe started panting, then emitted a long, pain-filled groan that sent a sympathetic stab through my stomach.
Todd looked at the doula in panic. “Another contraction?”
“That’s right. Only two minutes apart now. We’re fine. She’s doing beautifully.”
Her next groan was more like a shout of demonic outrage and we all flinched in sympathy for her—and for Todd, who might never have the full use of his hand again.
“Jaffa, kree ,” she gasped.
We all looked at each other in confusion.
“What did she say?” Bernie asked.
“It’s from the show,” Wade answered grimly from the kitchen door. “I’m pretty sure she’s telling us to get to our battle stations, because the baby is coming.”