Page 132 of Lemon Crush

I didn’t bother explaining because I could see there was no time. I grabbed Morgan’s arms and dragged her the three steps to the kitchen sink in time for her to throw up.

“There we go,” I said, rubbing her back. “I had a feeling this was going to happen.”

“What’shappening?” Todd asked, sounding panicked.

“Nothing to worry about. Morgan was just never going to be a nurse,” I told him with a grin. “She’s too perfect for her own good, but she had to be bad at something, so she chose the inability to deal with other people’s pain and bodily fluids without vomiting.”

“Pain?”

Poor guy. He was really having a hard time with this. I glanced at Wade and he nodded, putting a hand on Todd’s arm. “Phoebe’s contractions are getting stronger pretty fast and she asked for you and August.”

Todd jerked as if he’d been electrocuted and turned back to me with anxious eyes.

“Okay, that means we’re up Toddster. You can do this. Put on your game face.”

“I don’t have a game face. And I didn’t finish the snacks. She wanted me to?—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Wade told him, staring at me enigmatically. “Go hold her hand, and I’ll look after Morgan.”

Todd gripped me like a lifeline and started dragging me away. I put the brakes on long enough to look at Wade over my shoulder. “Give her hot lemon water and crackers, and stick her on the back porch until this is over.”

It was something we’d learned to do while Mom was recovering from her bypass. Something we’d remembered when Gene was recovering from his surgery. Morgan always wanted to help and always made sure she was there when her family and friends needed her. But she had no patience with her patients, and anytime there was visible pain or something that needed to be cleaned up, this was the end result.

When we arrived back at the birthing pool, Bernie and Yvonne had momentarily disappeared, and Phoebe—exhausted and resting her head on an inflatable pillow Morgan must have brought from the bathroom—was quietly talking with Todd’s mother. The doula was still making her blanket in silence.

“Phoebe, I’m here.” Todd reached for her hand and kissed the back of her fingers as I got into position on her other side.

When the sound on the TV cut off mid-space battle, her head popped up. “What happened?”

“You can watchEncantoagain if you absolutely have to, but I don’t think that violent trash is good for the baby. It’s certainly not appropriate,” Todd’s grandmother said stiffly, her hand clutching the remote without remorse.

His mother just looked down and shook her head as if she’d long since stopped trying to apologize for the old woman. She really was the quiet one.

Phoebe sat up a little straighter, wincing at the discomfort it obviously caused her. “It’s absolutely appropriate. The bad guys are parasitic worms that latch on to their hosts’ bodies and take over their lives so they can rule the galaxy. It sounds hilariously fitting to me.”

I wanted to laugh, but I wasn’t sure if that would beappropriate.

“Todd?” his grandmother said querulously. “Is she saying my great-grandchild is an evil parasite? Is that why we’re standing around this pool like idiots instead of sitting in a normal waiting room?”

I didn’t want to laugh anymore. “I believe the rule is that the woman in labor can say and do and enjoyanythingshe wants while the rest of us can keep our narrow-minded opinions to ourselves. Isn’t that right, Todd?”

I turned to give him some stink eye, but he was way ahead of me and already glaring at his grandmother.

“She’s right, Gram. You were the one who demanded to come here, despite constantly making Phoebe feel uncomfortable at every opportunity for not falling in line with your plans about what we should do with our lives. If you can’t shut up and support the brilliant woman I love while she brings our child into the world, then I think it might be best if Mom takes you home.”

The old lady gasped in outrage, and I squeezed Phoebe’s hand, murmuring “Good choice, munchkin,” as Todd’s mother led her outside.

“Why you gotta be so mean?” I called after them.

Phoebe laughed at the Swiftism I’d used in her honor, and then turned to beam at Todd. “I’m a little busy now, but do you want to get married later?”

Todd looked like he was about to choke on his own tongue. “You’re saying yes? Now?”

“The brilliant woman you love is askingyouto say it.”

That was what a man should look like after winning the lottery. Or being proposed to by my godchild.

Phoebe had the right idea. Maybe we both did. I’d asked Wade to live with me a few hours ago, and now she was giving Todd the romantic proposal she’d been waiting for.

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