“Jenny, love…”
“Hey, Jenny, what’s happening?” Michael glanced up as someone called from across the room, and his shoulders sagged in relief as he saw who it was. Abby. Of course. Abby, Megan’s daughter, was Maitland Maternity’s chief obstetrician. So many of the hospital staff were family. If Jenny was in labor, she had half the staff of Maitland Maternity right here.
Abby had left her husband and was crossing swiftly to stoop beside the pair on the floor. “Hey, Jenny, let’s not panic here,” she said, kneeling. “Is this your first contraction?”
“I don’t-I don’t think so,” Jenny whispered. The pain had eased, leaving her room to think. “Maybe not. I mean, I thought contractions were like stomach cramps, but I’ve been having back pains all afternoon and they’ve been getting worse. This one…it was the same but different. Much worse, and it sort of slammed around the front.”
“That sounds like a contraction to me,” Abby said cheerfully. “And a good one. How far apart would these back pains be?” She took Jenny’s wrist between her fingers, found the pulse and flicked a glance at her watch.
“Um, two minutes maybe.”
“Two minutes! Wow! That’s terrific!” Abby’s voice oozed confidence and reassurance. “If that’s true, then you’ll have danced your way through most of the first stage of labor.” She grinned. “Okay, everyone, let’s clear a path. Michael, we’ll carry Jenny to a bedroom to give us a bit of privacy. We seem to be about to have a baby.” She glanced at her husband. “Kyle, you want to call for an ambulance, honey? I don’t want to risk a back-seat delivery here.”
But Kyle was looking through the French windows to the gardens. The unseasonably warm evening had disappeared completely. Rain was lashing against the glass in torrents, and while he watched, lightning flashed. Thunder followed about a millisecond later.
“The storm’s right overhead,” Kyle said, and looked around the room, assessing. Counting heads. “It’s a storm and a half. There’ll be flash flooding, and the roads will be unsafe.” He nodded as he took stock of who was present. “You know, given the guest list here, staying put might be the wisest option.”
“Hey, we’re going to the hospital,” Michael said, startled. He hadn’t taken his eyes from Jenny’s white face, and his hands were gripping his wife hard. In turn, she was clinging to him as if fearful of being swept away.
“There are no problems, are there, Abby?” Kyle asked smoothly. He wasn’t a CEO for nothing. Sensible decisions were what he was paid for.
“Nope.” Abby shook her head. “I’ll need to examine Jenny to be sure, but it seems a nice normal labor. A healthy boy being born at term to a healthy mom.”
“This baby is not being born at term,” Jenny said through gritted teeth. “He’s not due till next week.”
“You want to tell him that?” Abby grinned again, and then paused in concern as she saw another contraction hit. She glanced again at her watch. “Remember your breathing, Jenny. Just breathe through it. That’s less than a minute apart. Lord, we’re moving right along here.” She glanced up, searching for Megan in the sea of concerned family faces. “Mom, can we have a bed?”
“And hot water and towels and whatever else you need. Of course, dear. Oh, Jenny.” Megan knelt, too-half the world, it seemed, was gathered in Megan’s drawing room watching Jenny’s contractions. Megan waited until this one passed, then smiled reassuringly into Jenny’s fearful face.
“Aunt Megan, I’m so sorry.” It was all she could manage.
“Nonsense, child,” Megan said firmly. “Anna said we should have a party finale. We were planning fireworks until we were washed out, but a baby…what a magical end to an evening!”
“We haven’t got the facilities,” Michael snapped. Damn, they were being frivolous, and this was
“Hey, Mike.” Kyle’s hand was on his shoulder, giving him strength. “We have Abby, who’s the best obstetrician in Austin, bar none. Our car is set up like a mobile labor room-what Abby doesn’t have in the trunk hasn’t been invented. Ford Carrington’s right here behind me, and don’t tell me you’re doubting his pediatric credentials. Katie’s with him, and she has midwife qualifications as well as her pediatric training. If there are any problems, we’ll call an ambulance and risk the storm. So…pick up your wife and take her where Megan shows you. We’re all with you every inch of the way.”
And then Kyle smiled at Jenny’s white face. “Mrs. Lord, welcome to Maitland Maternity Clinic-the Megan Maitland Annex.”
They certainly were. For Jenny, the next two hours passed in a blur, but what she remembered of her labor was a sea of family. Michael’s family? No. For now, they were her family. One by one, they came in and sat with Michael, who didn’t leave her side for a minute. They told her she was doing great, that they loved her and she looked terrific, and Michael looked paler than she did.
Lana. Shelby. Megan and Ellie. Garrett. Camille. The piano player started up again, and the party went on in slow mode. Waiting mode. No one was risking driving home in this rain, or maybe they all wanted to stay for Megan’s finale.
Or for Jenny and Michael’s finale.
“You’re doing great, Jenny,” Abby told her. “He’ll be here soon. Real soon. Push just as hard as you want to, honey. This boy of yours is coming through like a locomotive.”
And push she did, though it was like biting down on a sore tooth, or worse, and she really wanted to cry out in pain-maybe she did cry. But the faces around her told her it didn’t matter one bit if she hollered the place down, and Michael’s hands held her all the while.
Every inch of the way.
And finally…
“He’s crowning,” Abby said jubilantly. “I can see him, Jenny. The top of his head’s coming through. Let’s get Ford in here, because soon we’ll have a new little person to check over. Okay, ease back, Jenny. Now, once again- Push!”
“I can’t. I can’t.
She felt him come. She felt her son move within her, and Michael’s arms slipped around her shoulders and lifted her so she could see her tiny, blue-white baby come slithering out into the world into Abby’s waiting arms.
“He’s…he’s…” She could scarcely believe what she was seeing.
“He’s just perfect,” Abby said, clearing the tiny airway and turning the baby over in her arms. There was a moment of absolute silence, and then Jenny’s baby son opened his eyes. He stared up and took one long look, then opened his mouth and hollered!
The piano player stopped as if he’d been struck. There was a hush outside the room. Then the new arrival opened his mouth for his second earthly yell, and was joined by laughter and applause filtering in from the room beyond. The Maitlands and the Lords were welcoming another baby into the family clan.
Ford was running an expert eye over the lusty infant, nodding and smiling his approval. He passed the baby to Katie, who wrapped him in the receiving blanket and placed the tiny baby into his mother’s waiting arms.
Jenny’s eyes welled with tears as she looked into her son’s face.
“Oh, Michael. Oh, look.” It was all she could do to speak. She pulled back the edge of the blanket with tenderness and awe, and her eyes flew to Michael.
And back to her son.
“He-he has red hair,” she stammered.
“Oh, Lord.” Megan had tiptoed into the room, unable to stay outside a moment longer. She crossed to look at the silent infant, cradled in his mother’s arms. “That’s just the shade of the triplets’ hair when they were tiny,” she breathed, stunned. “Just that shade. He’ll have hair just like his daddy’s.”
“But…” Abby paused.
“I’m not his daddy,” Michael said, but his eyes didn’t leave the baby for an instant. “Your husband must have had red hair, Jen.”
“My late-husband had blond hair,” Jenny whispered. Her eyes flew to Michael and held. “My now-husband has red hair. Michael, you’ve been so good to me. Maybe this is God’s way of saying he’s your son, too.”
“No…”
But she wasn’t listening. “Michael, he’s as much your son as Peter’s. More. You’ve protected us and cared for us and…” Her voice broke, and she lay back on her pillows, overcome.
