Page 86 of Under the Influence

Things move quickly over the next few months. Prefab homes are designed and ordered. Edith gets the hang of driving back and forth to Tumbling Rock. Clover and Edith bond over animals and grocery shopping. I turn a guest room into a gender-neutral nursery since we’ve decided to be surprised.

Edith and I are great together. I can’t believe how easily I add her to my life. I never need space. In fact, I get edgy whenever I’m away from her for more than a few hours. Needing a fix, I often drive to Tumbling Rock in the middle of the day to have lunch with Edith when she works at her family’s shop.

For months, Erin fusses over Edith and me until the women sit down and look at my baby pictures. Something clicks between them that day, and my mom has been crazy about Edith ever since.

When Edith is four months pregnant, we marry on a mild winter afternoon at the homestead. Though she and I plan to do something more extravagant later on, I need to make things official before the baby is born. I’m old-fashioned that way.

The closer her due date gets, the more Edith sticks to home. By then, the homestead house is finished. We spend Mondays and Tuesdays there, so I can be in Basin Rock during the weekends when trouble is most likely to occur.

Once a month, Donovan comes over to fish with me. At first, we mostly talk about Edith. Eventually, he also shares stories about his boys. Occasionally, Ike or Otto will join us on my boat at a Basin Rock lake.

“It’s nice to have men I can trust,” I tell Edith one night as we rest in bed with her round belly between us. “Dallas was always an ass. The meatheads are fun, but I’ve never felt like I can trust them to step up. I’ve spent my life thinking women were more trustworthy. Turns out, I was spending my time with weak men.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I saw Knobby helping an old lady with her groceries the other day. Those ding dongs might be maturing.”

Chuckling at her tone, I kiss her forehead. “True, but it still feels good having this bigger family.”

Early on, the gap in our ages seemed like a barrier to a healthy relationship. But I’m not the old man stuck in his ways while Edith isn’t a flighty young woman. We’re both growing and changing. In many ways, I’m a different guy by the time Edith arrives at her due date.

There are times I benefit from my age, though. Like when Edith and I go to Lamaze classes with Lola, Val, Ike, and Oana. The other guys seem nervous about contractions and afterbirth while I’m certain I have everything in order.

Weeks before Edith goes into labor, she witnesses the delivery of her niece, Cherie. Ike’s daughter is the first of the baby boom to arrive, sending the homestead into a highly emotional tizzy.

Edith and Lola are ecstatic yet nervous about their impending deliveries. I feel confident we’re ready. Hospital bags are packed. Birthing plans are ready. I’ve never been more organized in my life.

Despite our best plans, the baby is nearly born in the car on the way to the hospital. Edith feels like crap all day but never suspects she’s in labor. Then, around ten p.m., the achiness hits her lower back, her water breaks, and she immediately feels ready to push.

Though I was a speed demon as a teenager, I don’t think I’ve ever driven as fast as I do to the hospital. Edith pants to avoid pushing while her legs remain glued together to prevent the baby from falling out. She calls her mom to warn her about the impending delivery.

“I don’t think I can hold on until you get to the hospital,” Edith whimpers to Journey as we arrive at the hospital.

I don’t know what her mom says, but Edith hangs up and starts crying. I get her admitted, park the SUV, and run inside just in time to hold her hand while she pushes.

Less than twenty minutes after we arrive, I’m holding my son in my arms. Edith seems shocked the delivery is over. She keeps rubbing her stomach like she can’t figure out what the hell happened.

Once the staff leaves us alone, I settle next to her on the bed. Her gaze focuses on the baby she’s long wanted. Her confusion transforms into teary-eyed awe.

She rests her cheek against my arm and whispers, “He has thick brown hair just like you as a baby.”

“He has your lips and forehead.”

“No.”

“I see it,” I say as her fingers caress his forehead. “Sean’s a perfect mix of us.”

Though Edith smiles at me, I feel her fatigue catching up to her. She would usually be in bed by now. That’s not an option tonight with her parents rushing to the hospital.

Journey is already crying before she enters the room and rushes to Edith’s side.

“I ignored all the signs,” Edith says, crying instantly. “I didn’t realize I was in labor. Then, it happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

Journey sits on the edge of the bed, holding Edith while I stand and walk over to Donovan.

“We nearly didn’t make it,” I say while he looks pissed. The anger drains from his face at the sight of his first grandson. “Sean is seven pounds, eleven ounces.”

Donovan strokes Journey’s head. His wife glances back at him, suddenly noticing the baby.

Edith looks at me, wearing a pout. I tilt Sean so she can see him better. She wants to smile, but her birth plan didn’t work out.

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