Chapter 32
Dixie
The pain is not a wave. A wave has a peak and a breaking point. This is a solid shooting pain through my pelvis, and I swear, my insides are going to grind my bones to dust. I grip the rails on the hospital bed, beyond annoyed with the high hum of the fluorescent lights above me.
They’re mocking me. I don’t know how or why, but they are, and I hate them. And the green wallpaper in the room. And the nurse. She’s a twat.
“Breathe, Dixie. Just blow it out like you’re blowing out a candle,” she tells me.
She’s a stout woman with a name tag that reads Brenda, and she pats my knee with a hand that’s too warm and too heavy. As nice as she’s being, I can’t help but want to bite her.
I scream, not caring if I shatter the glass and make it rain down on the white floor. “Get this thing out of me!”
Even when the contraction subsides, it’s not as relieving as I think it should be. Nothing about this is comfortable. There is no position I can find to make it any better. Everything hurts, and I want someone to club me over the head with something hard to knock me out.
“This is terrible.”
“You just have to breathe—”
“I am breathing!” I shout. “I’m the big bad wolf blowing the damn house down, Brenda. I just want this out of me. Now!”
This makes her smile, and I want to rip it right off her face. She may not be a twat, but I am not in the mood to be entertaining. Or charming. I’m in the worst pain of my life, and no one seems to care. Outside of telling me to breathe.
I am fucking breathing. If I wasn’t, I’d be dead. Did you think about that, Brenda? No, no you did not.
“I need the doctor,” I say as I roll from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort. “I cannot do this. I swear to God, I can’t do it.”
“Dr. Evans is on her way, dear. She’s just down the hall,” Brenda says, her voice infuriatingly calm. And patronizing. “You are dilated to eight centimeters, and you’re doing wonderful.”
“I am not doing wonderful,” I scream. “I want the epidural. You promised me the medicine. Where is that woman with her needle?”
Great, I sound like a drug addict. But I honestly don’t care. Shove that needle in me. Give me the medication to stop this pain.
“Dr. Evans is coming,” she promises. “Just try to focus on your breathing.”
Pulling myself up, I glare at her, gripping the bedrail so hard my knuckles turn white. “I swear, Brenda, if you tell me to breathe one more time, I might actually murder you.”
Sweat slicks my forehead, and I hate how my hair sticks to my forehead and cheeks. I feel gross, exposed, and completely terrified. I’m alone with a stranger while a man I barely know stands outside my room to keep guard.
Hendrix Mann is a fine guy, but I’ve only met him twice. He’s not a big drinker, so I haven’t talked to him much because when he’s at the Seven Crows, he’s not sitting at the bar.
I can’t help the smile as I remember the pure panic on his face when my water broke. He was downright cartoonish, trying his best not to run in circles with his arms waving above his head.
No, I want Penn here. Misty offered to come, but I could hear the terror in her voice. Her last visit, especially with labor, was beyond traumatizing, and I told her not to worry about it.
But I want someone here to hold my hand. To tell me I’m doing okay, even if it annoys me. But they better not tell me to focus on my breathing if they want to live beyond tonight.
Loud footsteps come running down the hallway, and my heart races. Is it Penn? Please let it be Penn.
“Oh my God!” I cry out, grabbing the railing with both hands as another contraction hits. “Get me the drugs!”
Penn appears, and he looks like hell. But also absolutely beautiful. The sight of him calms me the slightest bit, but my body still feels like it’s being ripped apart.
“Dixie,” he pants, taking my hand in his. “You got this. I’m right here.”
To his credit, he doesn’t even wince when I squeeze his hand through the rest of the contraction, but I know it hurts. As the pain subsides, I release it, and he shakes it out.
“Perfect timing. We should have enough time to get this catheter in before your next contraction,” a tall woman says as she rolls in with a cart. “I need you to sit up on the side of the bed and round your back like a cat. Can you do that for me?”
“You think I can move?” I ask with a laugh.
Penn takes my hands and pulls me up, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed. He crouches down, bringing me with him, and I stare into his eyes. “You’re doing so good, baby.”
“Don’t move,” Dr. Evans says.
The doctor preps my back, and I don’t like the cold swipe of the antiseptic on my overheated skin. It should be a relief, but all I can imagine now is the prick I’ll feel. I know I said I wanted the drugs and the needle, but now I’m kind of terrified.
“Just look at me, baby. Focus on me,” Penn says.
A sharp pinch stings as she administers a local numbing agent, and I want to stiffen. Like a normal person. But Penn keeps me hunched like I’m supposed to be, keeping me perfectly still.
“Deep breath,” he whispers. “Just look at me.”
A strange pressure sliding in my lower back hits, and I’m not a fan of the sensation it creates. I keep my eyes focused on Penn and narrow my eyes. “What are those lines on your face?”
“What?”
“You have an outline on your skin. Were you scuba diving or something?”
“All done,” Dr. Evans says as Penn chuckles. “You can lie back now. It should start working in about ten minutes.”
Penn carefully helps me move back onto the pillows and pulls the blanket over me. Slowly, the sharp, biting pain begins to dull, and I finally feel relief. Real relief. Not just the lack of my insides squeezing like they’re trying to juice me. I’m not a fucking orange.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter, closing my eyes as it all begins to fade.
“Better?” Penn asks.
“So much better,” I say. “You’re dirty.”
“Oh, uh…”
“Why don’t you go and clean up quickly?” Brenda asks. “Now that we have the epidural, she won’t want to murder me. I hope.”
Smiling, I tilt my head. “I mean it with love.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she says. “I’ll stay with her. We can also give you some scrubs to change into.”
He looks at me for permission, and I just nod my head as my eyes flutter closed. It’s the first time in hours I have been able to relax.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, squeezing my hand.
Another nurse leads him away, and I stare after him, my lids opening and closing slowly. I know he wasn’t close, and he made decent timing. Which means he had to ride like hell to get here. He didn’t even stop to shower or change because he wanted to be here. Out of complete and total devotion.
Stephen’s the one who put me in this position.
He lied, cheated, and then tried to burn my life to the ground when I didn’t let him control me.
But it’s Penn who helped me rebuild my life.
Showed me what true security feels like, and he created a beautiful nursery.
One I kept lying to myself about, saying I had time.
I didn’t have time.
Thank God for him being on top of things.
“Everything looks perfect, Dixie. The baby’s heart rate is stable, and you look like you could take a nap. Which is great.”
She slips out of the room, and I let myself drift off. They say sleep won’t come as easily when the baby’s here, and I am beyond exhausted. Who knew lying here as your body tries to rip in half would be so much work?
There’s slight discomfort but nothing like I felt earlier, and when I open my eyes, Penn’s sitting next to me wearing a pair of blue scrubs, and his hands and face are clean again. “Hey.”
“Hey, beautiful,” he says. “You got a little nap in.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, you didn’t hear me come back in.”
Smiling at him, I take his hand. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“When the baby’s born, they’re going to have the paperwork for the birth certificate.”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s typically how it works. Or so I’m told.”
“Would you want to… sign it?”
Penn freezes, and for a second, I don’t think he breathes. His eyes search mine, and I worry I’ve asked too much. That I’ve finally found the line to cross.
“You really mean that, Dixie?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly. “You want me to sign his birth certificate?”
“I want you to be his dad, Penn. On paper. You’re already his dad in every way that matters.”
A smile spreads across his face, and he leans forward to kiss me. “I don’t know if I could want anything more, Dixie. I already told you that you both became mine our first night together.”
“And that’s why I know you’re his dad. I want him to be strong, loyal, and know how to build things better than he can break them. Just like you.”
“I love you so much,” he whispers and kisses me. “And I can’t wait to meet our son.”
“Soon,” I promise.
Or maybe it’s a prayer. Either way, I want to go home with both of my boys as soon as possible.