Forever Family (Forever #5) Page 3

  “It’ll pass in a second,” Corabelle said. “We’re five minutes apart now.”

  “Still plenty of time,” Darion said from the door as he yanked it shut. “Would you like me to check you?”

  “Who are you?” the EMT demanded.

  He saluted her. “Dr. Darion Marks. St. Anthony’s.”

  The EMT mumbled something under her breath.

  “It will be fine,” Darion said.

  Jenny’s breath began to slow. “Let’s not give the cameraman a show,” she said. “We can start again.”

  “What did we miss?” I asked.

  “Dylan’s been rambling about everlasting love,” Chance said.

  “This is my finest work,” Dylan said, flashing his megawatt smile. He was dressed in black leather pants and a gray silk vest. His hair was perfection, falling over one eye in just the right way. He looked like a rock star, no doubt about it.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Jenny said. “We’re probably getting close to the hospital.” The ambulance lurched forward, and all the occupants tried to grab something steady to keep their places.

  “Absolutely,” Dylan said. “Do you, Jenny, take Chance to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, from this day forward, till death do you part?”

  Jenny looked up at Chance. His face was only inches from hers. “I do,” she said.

  “And do you, Chance,” Dylan went on, “take this lovely lady Jenny, who is laboring so hard for your child, even while attending your concert, as your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, and you’ll probably make it worse, in sickness and in health, and be ready for a lot of sickness with a kid around, for richer or poorer — speaking of rich, is your recording done yet?”

  “Dylan!” several people said at the same time.

  “Right, right, for richer or poorer, from this day forward, till death do you part?”

  Chance leaned in close to Jenny and pressed his forehead against her temple. “I do.”

  “By the power vested in me by the Internet, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Dylan said, with a wave of his arms that almost smacked both Darion and the cameraman. “Now kiss this bride before she pops out your kid!”

  Jenny turned her face to Chance and he kissed her softly, tenderly. The light from the camera cast a soft glow over both of them.

  Everyone in the ambulance cheered. Then Jenny started to groan. “Here comes another one!” she said.

  “Four minutes,” Corabelle said, her face colored blue from the light of her phone. She had a stopwatch app open.

  The ambulance rolled to a stop. Darion peered out the back window. “We’re here.” He flipped the latch on the door and pushed it open.

  Darion jumped out, then Dylan, then the cameraman. He continued to film as the rest of us filed out. Finally, the glowering EMT began unlocking the stretcher so they could get it out the back.

  Darion ran up to the sliding glass doors and approached the intake nurse. I was glad we were on familiar turf. I hadn’t realized Jenny’s obstetrician worked out of the same hospital as Darion. I should probably have asked more questions, been a better friend. But babies were tough territory for me. Like Corabelle, I’d avoided contact with infants or people whose domestic bliss made them likely to pop one out anytime. But here we were.

  The male EMT let down the wheels to the stretcher and locked them in place. They rolled Jenny out. She was in the throes of another contraction, panting. When Chance could get next to her again, he took her hand and kissed it.

  For the first time since we’d intercepted the ambulance, my throat tightened. Jenny’s baby was coming. We’d have a baby among our friends.

  I caught Corabelle’s eyes. She stood off to the side, her hands clasped tightly together under her chin. Her face mirrored how I felt. Elated. Excited. Fearful. But also, for us, in agony as we considered what had never been.

  Chapter 4: Jenny

  “What do you MEAN I don’t get any drugs?” I didn’t think I could yell that loud, particularly since my insides felt like a car getting crunched into a bundle of twisted metal. But apparently, I could.

  The OB on call had a mean face, big nasty eyebrows, and a triangle goatee. He looked like an evil overlord. “You’re too close to delivery for it now,” he said.

  I turned to send a pleading look at Chance. “Can you please call Dr. Jamison’s office again?”

  Chance looked like he was about to argue that there was no point, but thought better of it and pulled out his phone.

  The Evil One looked even more menacing now. Yeah, I didn’t want him. I’d made that clear. He patted my knee patronizingly. “You’re in good hands. The nurses will let me know when it’s time. It won’t be long.” He turned and strode out the door.

  His words made me even more furious. I needed to pull rank. “Tina!” I called out.

  She stood up from a chair in the corner. Thankfully the birthing suites were large. Corabelle was still here, and of course Chance. Dylan and his cameraman had gone back to the concert.

  Tina leaned on the bars on the side of my bed. “What’s up, baby girl?”

  I grabbed her arm. “Can Darion deliver babies?”

  I could see her trying not to laugh. “Sure,” she said. “But they’re going to have a whole team in here when it’s time, since the baby is early. You’ll probably have to go with Dr. Schlock.”

  God, that name. That goatee. That attitude. Anything but that. “They said the baby was fine. Lungs working, weight great. Will it really be that bad?”

  A nurse came in on the last question. “I’m going to be here for the duration now,” she said. “Doc says you’re close and we’re going to move you into pushing position during the next contraction.”

  I could already feel it coming on. They were super close together now that we’d gotten through admitting and a quick sonogram to check the baby’s lungs. The radiologist had almost told us the gender, but Corabelle managed to cut him off. She was good at knowing what people were about to say.

  I looked down at my belly, strapped with a gizmo that monitored the baby’s heart rate and the length of the contractions. A blue sheet was covering me below that, not that it mattered. Half the hospital had been all up in my business from the moment I got rolled in.

  Seriously, why did anybody care if Britney flashed her parts getting out of a limo when you could see a million of the same in any maternity ward?

  I started panting without even wanting to. God, this was ridiculous. Then all my thoughts sort of got erased as the pain took over. A long guttural wail came out of me. I’d normally be humiliated at my lack of control over myself, but whatever. I had no choice but to succumb to whatever the hell my body wanted to do.

  Somewhere among all the bludgeoning of my midsection, I felt a deep heavy spreading sensation. I pictured literal jaws opening down below, a big metal mouth groaning in protest, rusted or something, refusing to budge. The image was traumatizing and I had to scream to make it go away.

  “You’re doing great, honey,” the nurse said. “Dad, help her sit up and give her some support.”

  Chance tried to maneuver me into the position we’d practiced in class, but I elbowed him in the gut. Serves him right for getting me in this damn mess. One damn condom. Who only carries one damn condom?

  I might have said that out loud. I wasn’t super sure what was real anymore. Everything was hazy, pain making all the edges fuzzy.

  “WHERE ARE THE DRUGS?!!!” I shouted.

  The nurse peered under the sheet again. I wanted to kick her. Hell, we might as well have the Google car do a drive-by and snap a shot for the satellite feed. I had a bad feeling my privates were about to rival the Grand Canyon.

  “Time to push,” the nurse said. “Push to ten. Count with me. One, two, three, four…”

  I couldn’t pay attention to numbers. The pain I felt before was nothing compared to the sharp, burning sensation down below. N
ow I wanted to go BACK to just the contractions. That was paradise compared to this.

  I couldn’t push anymore, because that made the burning worse. “I can’t,” I said. “It’s like a million firecrackers going off down there!”

  I don’t think anyone understood what I said. Chance sat behind me, helping me stay in position, one hand squeezing mine. My hair was everywhere. I had a concert ’do, not something for birthing babies. Sweat was making my styling products run down my face. I could taste hair spray and chalk.

  This had to be the worst day ever.

  The contraction slowed down, but before I could even catch my breath or complain about something, it started up again. “This suuuuucks!” I managed to get out. Who was supposed to handle this? I was never having another baby. Never never never.

  Darion popped into the room. Between gasps, I managed to say, “Pleeeease handle this instead of the Evil Overlord.” I could tell nobody knew what I was talking about. I wanted to hit something in frustration, but instead kept one fist full of sheet and the other in a death grip on Chance.

  “Are we crowning?” Darion asked the nurse.

  I had no idea what he meant.

  “Almost,” she said. “I’ll call Dr. Schlock in a moment.”

  I saw Darion smirk at the doctor’s name and felt a little better for like a nanosecond.

  “Let’s push, Jenny,” the nurse said. “To ten. One, two…” She faded out faster this time, the pain blasting out everything else.

  I felt so exhausted. The contraction slowed, then came right back again.

  “Now we’re getting there,” the nurse said.

  “You want me to page him?” Darion asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  “No!” I shouted, although it sounded like a strangled gasp.

  They looked at me. “I want Darion,” I said.

  The nurse shook her head. “Dr. Marks isn’t authorized to deliver except in emergencies,” she said.

  I wanted to say, “This is an emergency,” but the nurse started counting again. Darion backed off and typed something on his phone.

  But in seconds, the most amazing, wonderful face in the world showed up. Dr. Jamison. He wore dark blue scrubs and a light blue cap. His kind eyes lit on me and Chance and he smiled.

  I started crying. Big huge tears. Snot bubbled from my nose.

  “You’re doing great, baby,” Chance said. “It’ll be better now that Dr. Jamison is here.”

  “I see you decided to speed things along, Jenny,” Dr. Jamison said. “Always trying to be more efficient.”

  I couldn’t answer, just boohooed through the pain.

  “Where are we?” he asked the nurse.

  She rattled off centimeters and other stuff I couldn’t pay attention to. I was just glad she wasn’t counting, wasn’t making me push.

  “Breathe, baby,” Chance said. He wiped my face with a tissue.

  “Why…didn’t…I…get…drugs?” I blubbered.

  Dr. Jamison reached over and took my hand, squeezing it. “I’m so sorry you went into labor so quickly. After a certain point we turn down the medication so you can push, and you were already almost there when you arrived.”

  Finally, someone who was willing to actually explain things. Still, huge, hot tears slid down my face. I felt three years old.

  “You’re doing great,” Dr. Jamison said, and took the nurse’s position between my knees. He glanced down, then back up at the nurse. “Bring in the team. We’re crowning.”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and gripped Chance again.

  Dr. Jamison pushed the sheets back so I could see my own knees. Behind him, the doors opened and two female nurses pushed a contraption inside, a crib with something over the top.

  I couldn’t focus on that because now I didn’t need anybody counting to push. My body was pushing without me.

  “Help it along if you like,” Dr. Jamison said. “But you’re nearly there.”

  Chance pressed on my back to help me see. The pain was a blur now, like I’d gotten used to it, or someone had shot some crazy drug into me that made everything soft. The edges of everything had a sort of glow.

  I looked down. The doctor’s gloved hands applied pressure around a strange white bulge. Nothing looked anything like I was used to. I was confused about my own body parts, and what I was seeing.

  I closed my eyes. That was easier, except then the pain moved forward in prominence. I opened them again.

  The doctor barked some command. I sensed all the people moving into position and a nurse closed in.

  A new sort of pain ripped through me, hot as a poker, searing.

  “Here he comes,” Dr. Jamison said. “Head’s coming through.”

  Chance leaned over. I could feel the heaviness of his body. I tried to look, tried to concentrate, but everything was fuzzy.

  The white bulge moved out, and I finally realized this was the baby’s head. The doctor turned him slightly, and I could see a nose.

  “One more good push, Jenny,” he said.

  I bore down, ready for this to be done, to be able to see the baby. My jaw ached from clenching it, and my whole body felt wrung out. But I pushed. I counted in my head.

  Then I looked again.

  One shoulder came out, then the other. Then the baby slid out without any sort of struggle. The cord dangled between us, covering the important parts. Was this a boy or a girl? I wanted to ask, but couldn’t catch my breath.

  Then Dr. Jamison pushed the cord aside, and I could see. The baby was a girl. A girl!

  One of the nurses stuck a bulb in the tiny mouth and sucked something out. The baby began to cry then, a strangled little sound. Then it got louder and louder. A nurse wrapped her in a blanket and laid her on my belly. I put my hand on her back. She was here.

  I looked up at Chance in wonder. He couldn’t stop staring at the baby, his daughter. His little girl. I leaned my head on his shoulder.

  “You want to cut the cord?” Dr. Jamison asked.

  “Sure,” Chance said. He pushed pillows behind me and moved down to my knees.

  I didn’t care what they were doing down there. I just kept my focus on the baby, who had given up on crying, conked out on my stomach.

  After a moment, Chance stood and the nurse lifted the baby higher, to my chest. “Hold her for a moment,” she said. “Then we need to assess her. She’s early.”

  This made me panic, and I pulled her tight. She looked so perfect and tiny. I didn’t think anything could be wrong.

  Chance kissed the top of my head and held the baby’s tiny hand between his fingers. “She’ll be all right,” he said.

  The nurse leaned in and took her. I felt cold and empty as her body left mine. I started weeping, and Corabelle rushed forward. “You’re okay,” she said. “She’s okay.”

  The two nurses and a man in scrubs surrounded the plastic crib. I couldn’t see what they were doing. I nudged Chance. “Go watch,” I said.

  Tina was snapping pictures with her phone. Thank goodness. My mom was going to be devastated that she wasn’t here. I had to call her. There was no help for it, as she wasn’t even in San Diego right now. But she’d get here as soon as she could. And so would Dad. They were grandparents.

  And of course Mrs. McKenzie, Chance’s mom.

  I scooted the pillows back and lay against the bed. I was exhausted and elated at the same time. Everything surged in me. I couldn’t rein in my emotions.

  The man in scrubs nodded and came over. “The baby looks just fine. Her Apgar was 7, which is really good for her gestational age.”

  “Do I get to keep her in here?” I asked.

  “We’re going to take her for just a few minutes to clean her up and check her lungs, then we’ll bring her right back.”

  “I’m going,” I said, and tried to pull my legs out of the stirrups.

  “Not yet,” Dr. Jamison said. He was still in position at the end of the bed. “We still have some tidying up to do.�
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  “I’ll go,” Chance said. “Corabelle, you’ll stay with her?”

  “No!” I said. “Corabelle, go with the baby. You’ll know what’s happening.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” Tina said. She sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed my arm. “Let us know what’s going on.”

  “This is all standard procedure,” Dr. Jamison said. “If something was going wrong, there would be a lot more people in here.”

  They rolled the crib out. The crib with my baby. Mine! I tried to calm down, but my breathing was rapid. I didn’t want her out of my sight. “I’m scared,” I said.

  Darion came over to the bed. “I’ll go too,” he said. “I can text Tina what is going on.”

  Dr. Jamison nodded. “Lots of people in your corner, Jenny. It’s going to be fine.”

  He finished whatever he was doing and pulled down the sheet. He lifted my knees out of the stirrups and laid them gently back on the bed. The relief was so great to be out of the position that I almost cried out.

  “Rest a little if you can,” he said. “You’re going to be up a lot in the next few weeks.” He patted my arm. “You did great.”

  “She’s really okay?” I asked.

  “Seven is a great score. Her lungs were good. They’ll make sure.”

  I nodded. I was so tired. So tired.

  Tina found a wet washcloth by the bed and pressed it to my head. “Darion knows these people,” she said. “He’ll make sure it’s all done right.”

  I reached up and pressed the cool cloth against my eyes.

  Holy hell, I’d done it.

  Chapter 5: Corabelle

  I followed the team down the hall from the birthing suites to the NICU. Chance strode behind them, his face tight with concern.

  I knew what Jenny was feeling right now, watching your baby get rolled away from you. My heart squeezed and I tried to put the memories of my own baby, Finn, out of my mind.

  But everything around me brought it back. The door decorations with the streamers and teddy bears in blue or pink. The echoes of crying babies and hushed conversations of family. Even the shhrrrr sound of the wheels on the smooth waxed floor.