Page 34 of The Griffin, the Tiger, and Their House Cat Omega

“Nope.” A horrible thought occurred to me. “What if I can’t get it out? Cats are not built to lay eggs.”

A call to the midwife reassured us that if I could make an egg, I could lay an egg, but that if I had any trouble, when the time came, all I had to do was call. Crisis averted, I promised not to read hate comments online anymore, and settled back into growing our baby—who was currently in an egg and would be laid sooner than I would have given birth conventionally. The midwife couldn’t give me a timeline but told me not to worry.

Easy for someone not growing an egg to say.

Still, I felt better and got a good night’s sleep, waking the next morning to eat a good breakfast and head into town for a little window shopping. There were many small businesses not too far away, and I found myself in a bedding store, with the vague idea of buying a new comforter for our bed. They had so many nice things, I couldn’t decide and by the time I left, I’d filled my trunk with pillows and blankets and throws of all kinds. I had a vague idea about trying them out to see which I liked best and returning the others, but by the time my mates came home, they found me arranging all of them in a colorful heap three feet high.

“Omega?” asked River. “What are you doing?”

I truthfully had not idea, but luckily our griffin did.

“What a beautiful nest,” he crooned. “A true work of art.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Allen

Matthew waited until the last minute to take paternity leave. The egg was ready to come any day now. He made the choice that after he had it he was going to nest with it and not go back to work until it hatched.

I took some time off myself to watch over him. I loved spoiling him.

The day Matthew’s cramps started coming, I called River and told him to get home stat. I then called our most reliable babysitter and had her come and pick up Flora to spend the night with her.

Our egg was on the way.

Matthew wanted to have it in his nest. We’d prepared everything we needed for that.

I sat with him and held his hands as he lay back on soft pillows covered with a lightweight blanket. He took the pain like a champ.

While we waited for River, I brought Matthew ice chips and cool cloths.

“Thank you, Allen. You’re really good at being so patient and caring.”

“That’s because I love you.”

“And not just because I’m having a griffin egg?”

“If you were having kittens, I’d love you just as much.”

He smiled right as another cramp hit him.

I rubbed his back to soothe him through it.

A few minutes later, another cramp came.

“I think it’s coming now,” Matthew said.

“It can’t. River’s not here yet.”

He glared at me. “You want me to hold it in?”

I started to say “yes” but curbed my tongue. “If it’s coming then that’s all there is to it.”

He leaned forward, straining again. This time he turned over onto his side and the blanket spilled across his thighs. The pad beneath him was wet, covered in slick. It certainly did look like the egg was about to slide right out.

I’d read a book the midwife had recommended on home egg birth. I knew enough to be a somewhat decent coach to Matthew.

“I feel like I want to push,” he said.

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