Page 19 of Gotta Dig Deep
Horse
Hammering against his door woke Horse with a start.
Blackie bellowed, “Get a fuckin’ car ready.”
He looked at his phone, then stared at the still closed door in confusion. What could Blackie be waking the house up at three in the morning for—Oh!
Less than five minutes later, he had the van backed up to the front door and was opposite Blackie as they helped a laboring Peaches down the stairs. Duane followed with a bag in hand, slipping into the driver seat as Horse and Blackie settled Peaches in the back. They took off as soon as all the doors were closed, Duane making good time on the nearly empty city streets.
“Want me to make any calls, pretty lady?” Duane’s question was soft and timed between contractions. “Your daddy?”
“We’ll call him after it’s all done and dusted,” Peaches responded, pulling in a hard breath as the van’s suspension bounced them into the hospital’s driveway. “I’m just ready to get this little one into the world.”
“Good enough, good enough.” Duane was grinning as he parked in front of the emergency entrance doors. “Let’s get you inside so you can do that thing.”
From the ER up to the obstetrics unit, Blackie kept quiet, determinedly attached to Peaches by their clasped hands. When the nurse was ready to start an intravenous needle, she gave the big man one look and moved to Peaches’ other arm without complaint.
“Did you do classes for the birth?” Horse knew from shows on television that those things existed. “What happens next?”
“I’m not really sure. I didn’t think I’d need any help. Was planning on doing all of this by myself.” Peaches didn’t glance at him as she answered, her gaze turned inward. “Another one is coming, Blackie.”
“You’ve got this, baby girl. Tough and strong don’t even begin to describe what you are. You’ve got this.” Blackie shifted so he could look at her face. “You do whatever you need to do. I’ll be right here with you. Ain’t leavin’ for nothing.”
The door opened and a man wearing a white coat walked in. With a nod at the nurse, he took a look at Peaches and smiled. “In the thick of it, I see.” Approaching the bed, he introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Abraham. I’m just going to check things out down here. When that contraction eases off, why don’t you tell me about the pregnancy? Has it been tough or easy? Do you have a regular OB?” He flipped the sheet up from the bottom of the bed, exposing Peaches’ feet. “Gentlemen, if you could step outside, please?”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, asshole.”
Horse and Duane had moved immediately but stopped in uncertainty at Blackie’s words.
“Not you, sir. Not unless Charlotte doesn’t want you in the room for these exams. My hope is you can remain and support her like you already are.”
“Good thing, because I ain’t leavin’.” Blackie gestured towards the door with the top of his head. “You guys get the fuck out of Dodge, though. No way you’re seein’ my woman’s coochie.” As the door closed behind them, Horse heard, “And her name might be Charlotte, but she’s Lottie or Peaches.”
Horse looked at Duane and they both broke up laughing. “Coochie,” Horse got out between guffaws. “Prez called it a coochie.”
“Peaches is a coochie momma now.” Duane swiped a hand down his face. “Ahh, man. I needed that. I’ve never been around a birthing woman before. Made me nervous as shit, brother.”
Still laughing, Horse looked up and down the hallway. He walked to where a few chairs were stacked near what looked like a waiting room and grabbed two, bringing them back so he and Duane could sit on either side of Peaches’ door.
“I understand these things can take time. I figure we should get comfy as we can.” He settled into the chair, leaning back and stretching his legs out. “You should probably go move the van before it gets towed.”
Duane jumped up from the seat he’d taken. “Aw, fuck, you would think I’d remember something like that. I’ll be right back.”
The two men bantered quietly as the hours slipped by, the nurses and doctor not paying them any mind. At odd intervals Horse would catch a word or two from Blackie, the changing tone of his voice indicative if he were speaking to Peaches or questioning one of the medical personnel.
Slouched sideways in the chair, Duane had dozed off before the traffic to Peaches’ room picked up to a steady stream. Horse stood and held the door for a nurse wheeling a tiny bed. He chanced a glance inside.
Blackie stood beside Peaches, much as he had before, only now he wore a backwards hospital gown, the fabric gaping wide to highlight the club’s patch riding on his back. He was leaned down, mouth near Peaches’ ear, talking softly while her eyes stayed closed in concentration.
A nurse laughed brightly. “Nearly time, little mother. Don’t push yet.”
Horse let the door settle into its frame and turned, reclaiming his seat. He grinned at a still-snoring Duane, but allowed the man to sleep a while yet.
Just under an hour later, he kicked Duane’s chair leg, startling him awake. Behind them, the robust cry of a newborn sounded strongly through the closed door.
“They okay?” Duane’s voice was rusty, crackling with sleep.
“I’m taking the lack of frantic activity as a good sign.” He indicated the door with a head tilt. “There’s like ten of ’em in there, but nobody’s been runnin’.” He stretched out his legs, shifting weight to the other hip. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Blackie needs this.”
