Page 42 of Inevitably Yours

“Seriously, you are the love of my life, Sherry.”

Sherry appeared by her bedside and started fiddling with the machines with a smirk. “Really, love of your life, is it?”

“Um-hm. We should run off to the Bahamas together. As soon as I can wear a bikini again, that is.” Gus got distracted trying to figure out if that was an angel or a dragon fly on Sherry’s neck. “What is that?” Gus pointed and felt like she was slurring her words. Exhaustion was taking its toll.

“Are you asking about the snake doctor or the mushroom?”

“Snake doctor, what the hell is that?” Andy asked mystified.

It was Francis who answered, “It’s just what some southern people call dragon flies, but I haven’t heard anyone say it in forty years. And there is no way that lovely lady is a day over twenty-five.”

“Well, thank you. As a matter of fact, I am not over forty, but I was raised by my grandmother, and snake doctor was all she ever called them. I got the tattoo to honor her,” she explained to Francis with a smile before turning her attention back to Gus. “Well, Miss Thorne, my shift is over, and I hope by the time I clock in tomorrow, you will have given birth to a healthy baby. And hopefully realized that if had I actually been the love of your life, you would know my name is Cheryl, and not Sherry. So as appealing as the Bahamas sound, I’m going to have to pass.”

Right before she left the room, she turned back. “Y’all have absolutely made my day. That is one blessed baby to be born into this family.”

Everyone was silent, basking in the compliment. They were one heck of a family, and the baby would be blessed, but so would they.

There was a familiar glint in Francis’ eyes. One they all knew well.

“Mom. No. Seriously, no,” Tori commanded.

“First of all, I am your mother, and you will not be ordering me around like that. Secondly, I do not have the foggiest idea what you are talking about.” Francis was not as talented at hiding her intentions as she thought.

“Oh please, everyone in this room knows exactly what is going through that head of yours. Hell, anyone who has ever spent five minutes with you knows,” Erika argued.

It was obvious Francis was ready to adopt another adult into the family. Why she even bothered to deny it was something Gus didn’t understand.

Francis waved everyone off, “Pish posh. I’m not thinking of anything at all except meeting my newest grandchild.” Francis appeared next to January and instructed Gus to breathe through the contraction.

“Oh really, is that so? Well, let’s just see, shall we,” Stacy challenged as she threw open the door dividing their private waiting area from the labor and birthing room. It really was a great set up; Andy spared no expense. Gus’ room had two couches, an arrangement of chairs, a birthing pool, balls, stools, white noise machines, you name it. If a woman needed it for birthing, it was there. The waiting room was just as plush—plenty of room for a big family to stay the same duration as the mother, quite comfortably.

“Hey fellas, update.” Gus watched familiar faces and bodies appear in the doorway. “Gus had her feel-good shot to her back a while ago, so her pain is as good as it can be. Last time doc was around, she was dilated wide enough to drive a tank through, so it shouldn’t be long now. However, she thinks she’s in love with her anesthesiologist. You should have seen her, tattoos up to her neck, even one on her eyebrow. She looked like she had seen some shit in her life time. Raised by her grandmother, but she said it kinda sad, like she was gone now, even has a tattoo to honor her. Seemed like a good soul, just a little lost.” The door stayed open even as Stacy turned and glared knowingly toward Francis, arms crossed.

It was Frank’s booming voice that Gus heard laughing before he inquired, “Yeah, and what is our newest daughter’s name?”

It was obvious Francis knew the jig was up but refused to bow. “Show some respect, all of you. Oh, just hush.” Francis said something else, but as Dax and Walker shifted out of the doorway, Gus didn’t hear anything but the beeping of monitors and the beat of her heart. Even the pain seemed to completely float away when she looked across the room into the eyes of the man who had given her so much pleasure less than twenty-four hours ago.

He was here. John was here, and while he had some uncertainty swimming across his face, there wasn’t a profound sense of grief. Not like when he spoke earlier about Gus giving birth and about the child he loved.

Gus heard Stacy squeal and then her view of John was blocked when his sister hugged him tight. They spoke to each other. Gus assumed she was asking what happened. After they shared a moment, he took a few hesitant steps. As he got closer, Gus could see cuts and bruises marring his face and arms.

Her hand extended toward the door of its own volition. John took a few more tentative steps before looking toward Marco and Andy, who both dipped their heads in agreement—not before Gus saw the joy on both of their faces. Those rats, those beautiful, beautiful rats. They somehow got the message to him, even though she initially said no. She guessed she could forgive them since John didn’t look to be in agony over being there; instead, he looked…relieved.

Relieved, but beat up and tired, awfully tired. There were a few bruises blooming on his face as well as cuts and scrapes. He had a bandage at his temple with dried blood on it. Even with all that, he still looked happy to be there.

Gus didn’t know how she was going to make it through without knowing he was safe. Now she didn’t have to worry about that.

The next minute, he was there with her hand encompassed in both of his. Forehead to forehead, he whispered words of love. He offered no explanation, just words she had longed to hear, words that would get her through…

“Oh, my God!” The worst pain in my life. Gus shouted and people came running in all directions. She let go of John, and he melted back into the waiting room door.

Banging and clanging and voices and pain…unimaginable pain. “Are you ready to start pushing, Miss Thorne, because this baby is ready to make an appearance.” That was the doctor’s voice, she was sure of it because the next thing she felt, besides blinding pain, were her lady bits in the breeze.

“Oooooo,” Stacy exclaimed excitedly, clapping like a school girl. “It’s show time.” Then she stage-whispered, “Damn, hooker, you could’ve churched it up a little down south. Maybe splashed a little glitter on it, or at least gave it a little trim.”

“Fuck you, tramp. Bite me.” Gus didn’t have a chance to analyze her use of the F-word or how Stacy was no longer her BFF, because Butterbean was ripping her apart.

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