Page 96 of Conflagration
Cohen walks up and slides an arm around my shoulder, and I tease him about his upcoming marriage. He takes it all in stride, giving me a wide grin. “I’ve been waiting to make Andi a Wellington for a long damn time. How about you, Bran? Areyouready for this? To be a dad…again?”
Slapping his shoulder, I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face. “Man, I love the hell out of my little girls, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wrapped around their little fingers. But knowing there’s about to be another boy in the house? I can’t fucking wait.”
As if on cue, Dad walks into the bedlam, my oldest, four-year-old Katie, wrapped around his foot and the soon-to-be middle child, Elizabeth—who we affectionately call Libby—squirming in his arms. I’m grateful that my parents have given us a break the past few days. As Ariana’s due date approaches, we need all the time in the world to be alone. Don’t get me wrong. I love my kids, and the fact that Ariana and I are yet again expanding our family has me ecstatic. But with trying to get Katie ready for preschool while potty training Libby, we’re mentally and physically drained. Thankfully, my parents have decided that retirement means full-force grand parenting, and they give us the much-needed breaks we need.
All the kids see Grandpa Wellington, and just as they move to attack him at full force, I take Libby into my arms, loving as she gives me a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, princess. Have fun with Grandpa?” I ask, and she gives me a toothy smile as she nods profusely. I tickle her belly, her giggling melting my heart. “Did you miss me? Miss Mommy?”
She nods again and looks around, presumably for Ariana. Her sweet, little face falls when she doesn’t see her.
“Mommy’s sleeping, sweetie. She has to rest until your new baby brother gets here. Why don’t you go play with your cousins?”
When I set her down on the ground, she runs after her older cousins, joining in on their attack against my dad.
“Dude, I don’t know how you’re about to have your third,” Knox says as I sit down on the couch between him and Jace. “I can barely handle my twins as it is.”
I smile as I remember when Ariana and I announced that she was pregnant for the third time in less than five years. Knox joked that we were trying to catch up with him, and I couldn’t help the fact that our rampant sex life didn’t cool down even after the birth of our daughter. What can I say? I love my wife and can’t keep my hands off her.
The kids start a game of Candy Land with Dad as the guys set up a poker game. Libby ends up in my lap, unable to keep up with her older cousins, and my little good-luck charm helps me win almost a thousand bucks.
Just as I’m about to go all in, my phone buzzes. Ignoring it, I play my hand, making the guys read them and weep. We play a few more hands when Dad runs into the kitchen, holding his phone out for me. I hold it to my ear, shocked to hear my mom yelling at me.
“Branson Andrew Wellington! Ariana’s water broke! I’m taking her to the hospital now, so get your ass in the car and meet us there!”
She hangs up on me, and I jump up, passing Libby off to Dad. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit!”
“Howee shit!” my precocious two-year-old repeats, and I curse under my breath, knowing Ariana will kill me if our little girl starts swearing like her old man.
“Dude, calm down. You’ve done this before,” Knox says, and I shoot him a glare.
When I look to Dad, he gives me a nod.
“I’ve got the girls.”
That’s enough for me, and I run out of the house and race to my car, ready to meet my unborn son.
THE LAST thing I wanted was to miss Andi’s bachelorette party, but when I woke up this morning with Braxton Hicks, I knew there was no way I was leaving the house, let alone dolling myself up for a night out on the town. I’m still four weeks away from my due date, but both Katie and Libby were early, and with this little guy, I’m not taking my chances.
Branson, however, was not missing out on a night with the guys. He tried to stay home, but since his parents were dropping the girls off at Knox’s later, I practically pushed him out the door, telling him that I wanted to soak in the tub before verging out on chick flicks. He tried to protest until I mentioned watching About Time—my current movie obsession. After that, he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and was out the door.
As I lie on the couch, my eyes watering as I watch Rachel McAdams, once again, fall in love with her future husband, I feel a sharp pang in my stomach. Or, well, below my stomach. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on my breathing until the pain subsides. Even though I’ve done this twice, I pretend I’m not on labor. No, this is too early. But as another wave of pain hits me, I groan, cursing my children and their early arrivals.
Just as I think it’s a false alarm, I feel a wet warmth between my legs, and I know my water’s broken. Clutching my pillow as I breathe through the next contraction, I’m given relief, if only for a moment.
Snatching my phone up, I hit Branson on speed dial, cursing when I get his voicemail. I try him two more times and he doesn’t answer.
“Fuck!” I scream at the ceiling as another contraction rips through me. Why did I let him leave? This is what I get for thinking I’d get one last night of peace and quiet.
My phone rings, and I snatch it up.
“Where the fuck are you?!” I nearly scream, only to be met by silence.
“Ariana? Are you okay?” Amelia’s voice fills my ear, and relief washes over me.
Through gritted teeth, I speak. “My…water…broke…”
She gasps. “Sweetheart, I’m on my way! Knox took the girls to Clarksville, but I stayed behind. Hold on.”
