Chapter 60
ROOM SEVEN-TEN
FLETCHER
Ibreathe heavily as I climb over the boards, my heart pounding as I finish my shift. Adam scored a few minutes ago, but we are only up by one goal, so there is still a lot of work to do.
The horn blares, calling the end to the second period, and we make our way into the locker room. I glance up at the suite before leaving the bench. I don’t see any of the girls, but they’re probably getting snacks—and knowing Lydia in the last few weeks, she’s probably in the bathroom.
Coach stands at the head of the room in front of the whiteboard, and we all focus on him for a few minutes as he discusses things we can work on in the upcoming period and plays we can make.
Adam sits beside me, his sweat-dampened hair falling in his face. “We need to keep on Montonen. He’s getting sloppy as time goes on, less focused and making more aggressive plays, but it’s not working.”
“Agreed.” I sip from my water bottle. “He’s easy to rile up.”
We talk for a few more minutes. Even though we’re winning, it would be easy for them to take over in the last period if we let them—but we’re not going to.
The last few minutes of intermission fly by as we all hype each other up for the last twenty minutes of the game.
As we make our way back to the bench, I look up to the suite once more, finding it empty again.
Did something happen? Should I have checked my phone during the break?
I don’t usually do that, but with the impending due date, I should start.
Maybe they’re walking around.
Something feels off, though. I can’t exactly leave the bench to check my phone, but if they needed me, one of the girls would have gotten a message to Coach.
Calvin nudges me as the period starts, and we win possession of the puck in the face-off. “You good?”
“Where’d the girls go?” I tip my chin up to the suite. “They were gone at the end of last period, and they still aren’t back.”
He glances up. “Hm. I’m sure they’re shopping, or maybe Lydia was craving something besides popcorn for once, so they went out of the suite to get it. If they needed you, they’d come find you.”
“Right,” I mutter, not sure I agree. I turn my focus back to the game anyway.
We score again with five minutes left.
When I glance up at the suite again, and it’s still empty, I know something’s wrong.
During a pause in play, I lean back, getting Coach’s attention. “You haven’t heard anything from Lydia, right?”
“No, why?”
“She left the game, I think.”
“Once the game is done, go check your phone and do what you need to do,” he says.
His blessing is the only approval I need. I play one more shift, but my head isn’t in it. I know I should be more focused, but I feel it in my bones that something is up.
As soon as the final horn blares, I’m skating off the ice, ignoring the cheers of the crowd, not even giving Trigg a helmet tap or hug for a job well done.
I run on my skates down the hall into the dressing room and straight to my locker.
My heart is thrumming in my chest as I dig around for my phone, pull it out, and swipe it open to my messages.
There are two from Grace, and none from Lydia. The first message is from an hour ago, around the time the second period would have been ending.
Grace
She’s doing fine, but Lydia started having consistent contractions, so we are heading to the hospital. Zoey is running to your place to grab all your stuff. Come here as soon as you see this.
The second message is from only ten minutes ago.
Grace
Here and checked in, they’re going to check her cervix, but they think she’s here to stay.
Instead of texting her, I click the call icon, putting it on speaker as I start taking my gear off, throwing it into my locker.
“Hey,” Grace answers. “You on your way?”
“I just got off the ice. Changing. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Is she okay?”
I can’t miss my daughter’s birth. I just can’t.
“She’s a stubborn girl. The only reason she agreed to come to the hospital was after talking to your mom. They’re checking her now, so I’m not in the room. She’s hooked up to the monitor, and baby is just fine.”
I heave a sigh of relief hearing that. “Thank god.” I’m dressed in my street clothes now, and already running down the hall toward the parking garage. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Call me if anything changes, okay?”
“You got it.”
We hang up, and my panic increases again. I should have stayed on the phone with her, so I don’t miss anything.
When I’m in my car, my phone connects to my Bluetooth, and I dial my parents.
“Are you there yet?” Mom asks, not even bothering to say hello.
“Not yet,” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m pulling out of the arena now. Thanks for getting her to go in.”
“She needed to. She wanted to watch the rest of the game, but I told her the last thing you needed was to find out she delivered your baby in the suite.”
A forced chuckle breaks free from my lips. “Yeah, she was being stubborn.”
“She is. Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m on my way, and I’ll head to your house.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I hang up without thinking and call Lydia.
“Hey,” she answers, and her voice is tight, filled with so much pain it makes me want to cry.
“Hey, Lydi-bug. How are you doing?” It’s a stupid question, I know, but I have to hear it from her.
“Hurts,” she mutters, exhaling heavily. “Okay, it’s over.”
“Grace is with you?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“Yep,” Lydia responds. “They just checked me, and I’m six centimeters, so we’re here to stay.”
“We’re going to have our baby soon.”
The realization hits me like a brick wall.
“Are you on your way?” Lydia asks, her voice soft.
“I’m on my way, beautiful. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m stuck in some of the post-game traffic, but I’ll be there.”
“I need you,” she whimpers.
God, I wish I could teleport.
“I know, baby.” I take a deep breath to try to calm my racing heart. “Are you getting the epidural?”
“Not yet.”
Headstrong girl. I sigh, but I’ll talk to her about it when I get there. Depending on how fast things move, she’s going to be at this for a while, and she’s going to need the rest. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
“Hurry.”
“I will.”
We say goodbye, and I end the call, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel as I sit at a standstill. I’m sure I reek of sweat and the locker room, but I have to hope Lydia doesn’t notice, or that I can sneak a quick shower at some point.
A few minutes later, I arrive at the hospital and enter the Labor and Delivery Unit, pressing the button to have them unlock the door. I give them my name, they let me in, and I sprint down the hall.
“Whoa,” a nurse says, holding up her hands and halting me. “She’s fine. Waiting for you.”
“Where is she?” I ask, out of breath.
“Room seven-ten. Come on, I’ll bring you.”
I follow close behind her, trying hard not to break out in another run. Finally, we’re outside the door, and she knocks twice before Grace calls, “Come in!”
The nurse opens the door, and I walk in, not waiting another second to get to my girls.
Lydia is folded over the bed, dressed in a hospital gown. Her head is resting on her arms as she sways back and forth while Zoey rubs her back. Grace sits in the opposite corner, holding a cup of ice chips, and honestly, looking a little petrified.
I take Zoey’s place at Lydia’s side, rubbing her back through her contraction.
“Hey, beautiful.” I push some of her curls off her sweaty face.
Lydia only lets out a low groan. I hate that I can’t take away her pain. Once the contraction eases, she stands up straight, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my chest.
“Hi.”
The proximity is exactly what I needed to feel marginally better. I hate that she’s going to be in so much pain for an unknown length of time, but having her in my arms, in my sight, helps.
Then she says, “You stink.”
“Sorry. I didn’t shower. I wanted to get here as soon as possible once I figured out something was up.”
“S’okay. Sorry we didn’t tell you when we left.”
“It’s okay.” I rub her back. “Scared me, but I’m glad you came here.”
“I didn’t want to.”
I tilt my head down, slanting my lips over hers for a quick kiss. “I heard.”
“Can you blame me? It’s a playoff game.” She sucks in a sharp breath.
I flutter my hands over her body, trying to help however possible. “What is it? What hurts?”
Lydia waves me off. “Did you win?”
I groan and rest my head on her forehead. “Yeah, Lydi-bug. We won. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course, it matters—it’s the playoffs! I have to have this baby tonight, so you can be back for the next game.”
“Let’s not worry about that now. Right now, our focus is on delivering this baby and making sure both of you are safe and healthy.”
“I suppose that’s a good point.” Her grip tightens around the nape of my neck, and she lowers her voice. “I love you, but can you please shower before I send the girls home? You really stink.”
Chuckling, I nod. “Yes. I’ll be quick.”
Lydia drops her arms from my neck, and I peck her on the lips. I glance at Zoey and Grace, who offer me a nod. I return the gesture, hoping I convey just how grateful I am.
Zoey points to my pre-packed bag in the corner, and I grab a fresh pair of clothes and my toiletries from it before heading to the bathroom. I start the shower, and while I wait for it to warm up, it sinks in.
I’m going to become a father.