Page 80 of Belonging to Them
“We have folding chairs,” Cora says with an easy smile.“We’ll be right out here until our shift is over in a few hours and we’re relieved.”
“Wow,” Gianna says.“Okay.Well, if you need the bathroom or a glass of water or anything, mi casa es su casa.”
Keith comes back to the door and says, “Everything is clear.Miss, you may want to get a better lock for your balcony door—it looks a little flimsy.”
“Oh, okay,” she says.“Thanks.”She winces slightly.
“Another contraction?”I ask.
With a forced smile, she says, “Yeah.”
“And how do you know it’s false and not the real thing?”
“They’re too far apart, and there’s no real rhythm to them.I think.”She frowns, rubbing her stomach.“Well, let’s go get the movie started.And that ice cream isn’t going to eat itself.”
I’m only somewhat reassured by Gianna’s response.Then again, she knows more about all of this childbirth stuff than I do.I never even got around to looking up tips on how to be a good friend in the delivery room.Tomorrow, first thing.
Gianna gets us each a large bowl of ice cream and shows me a few movie options.Her “shortlist,” she calls it.I pick a spy comedy featuring a female comedian who always makes me laugh, and we settle in to enjoy.
The movie is silly and suspenseful with just a hint of romance.I know it’s going to end well, and that reassurance has me enjoying myself even more.It’s what I like about Sammie Starr’s romances, too—everything will turn out well in the end.I’ve heard people criticize romance for being too predictable.Heck no, that’s what appeals to me.Predictability means I can enjoy myself while watching the story unfold.
Same with mystery and spy movies like this one.I’ll get the answer in the end, and good will triumph.
Sure enough, it does.
“Are you tired?”I ask Gianna, as the credits roll.
“Not really.Want to start another one?”
It’s nearing midnight.Normally, I’d be winding down for bed around now, but I don’t want to abandon Gianna, so I shrug and say, “Sure, why not?”
Every now and then, Gianna runs her hands over her swollen belly.Her eyes tighten in pain, too.I wonder if there’s some way I can look up “signs you’re in labor” without her knowing that I’m doing it.It’s not that I doubt her maternal instincts, it’s just…she really seems to be in denial.
“I’m getting some water, do you want anything?”I ask Gianna.
“No, thanks, I’m good.”
As I pass the flimsy front door of the apartment, I hear Cora checking in with Ironwood, her voice low.“Yes, everything’s quiet.Landlord knows we’re here, and there shouldn’t be any problems.”
That’s what I like to hear.While I run the tap, I take my phone from my pocket and pull up the internet browser.One-handed, I type in “signs labor is starting.”
Well, most of this stuff I wouldn’t have any idea about.Does Gianna feel like she has to poop?That’s probably not something she’d volunteer to share with me.She hasn’t mentioned a backache, but it does seem difficult for her to get comfortable.Then again, I’m guessing it would be difficult for anyone to be comfortable when they appear to be a thousand months pregnant.The “false” contractions are what’s concerning me, though.
“Did you find the glasses?”Gianna calls.
“Yep!Be right there,” I say.
The internet has failed me.Maybe I should have asked it “Is Gianna Forrester going into labor right this minute?”Because that’s what I really need to know.
I hurry back into the living room, half-expecting to see Gianna on her back, legs in the air, and pushing out a baby.But she’s simply resting her ice cream bowl on her stomach and watching the show.
“You missed a funny part,” she says.“Want me to rewind it?”
“Nah.”I settle next to her on the couch.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ella,” she says.
“Me, too.”
