Page 74 of Where the Roses Bloom
The driveto the Evers place was familiar by now—long curves and narrow shoulders, the first light of dawn stretching across the trees. The roads were slick with dew, the sky tinged purple-gray in the first light of morning, and I kept my eyes on the dark ribbon of pavement, my fingers steady on the wheel.
At the house, Caleb was already outside waiting for me, pacing in the driveway in a pair of mismatched socks and an inside-out hoodie. He looked exhausted and entirely too young to be about to become someone’s dad. But…I guess that was how most dads looked.
Young, unprepared.
I wondered how Rhett would look.
“She’s upstairs,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been timing the contractions—about five minutes apart for the last hour. She didn’t want to call too early, but the doctor had another emergency delivery last night and it’ll be another hour…”
“You’re doing all the right things,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder and climbing the porch steps. “Let’s see how she’s doing.”
Inside, the house was warm. A lamp glowed in the corner of the living room, casting soft light across the baby blanket draped over the couch. There were clean towels stacked by the stairs, a half-empty cup of ginger ale on the side table…signs of readiness.
Yeah…they were ready for this. We all were.
When I stepped into the bedroom, Jasmine was on her hands and knees on the bed, breathing in deep, even rhythm.Her hair was tied up in a scarf, and her face shone with sweat—but her eyes were clear and calm when she saw me.
“Willow,” she said. “Thank God.”
I smiled and set my bag on the chair by the door. “You’re doing amazing,” I said, stepping closer. “Let’s check your vitals, and then we’ll talk through where we’re at and what you need.”
Jasmine nodded, jaw tight as another contraction rolled through her. She groaned, low and steady, and I placed a hand on her back.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured.
The contraction passed, and Jasmine sagged onto her forearms with a ragged breath. Caleb hovered in the doorway, wide-eyed and wringing his hands. I gave him a reassuring nod as I pulled out my binder and blood pressure cuff.
“She’s been moving around a lot,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Walking the hallway. She didn’t want to lie down.”
“Good instinct,” I said. “Movement helps with positioning, especially this early.”
I took Jasmine’s blood pressure, checked her pulse, and wrote everything down. Her vitals were solid. Her breathing was good. She was tired—but steady.
“Doctor should be here soon,” she said, eyes flicking toward the window. “I didn’t want to wait for her to get here, in case the baby came faster than we thought.”
“I told you to call me anytime, and I meant it,” I said. “You trust her?”
Jasmine nodded. “Dr. Baines from Perry. She’s the only one who’d agree to come all the way out here. I haven’t had uh…oof…good experiences in hospitals, but she’s fantastic.”
“Then we’re in good shape,” I said. “You’ve got me as long as you need me. You’re not alone.”
She looked at me like she was about to cry, but then she took a breath and nodded. “Okay. Okay.”
I helped her shift into a more comfortable position and talked her through the next few hours. What to expect. What to trust in her own body.
Caleb brought her a fresh glass of water and hovered close, whispering soft encouragements while I set up the Bluetooth speaker and queued up the playlist Jasmine had given me in advance: all low, soothing jazz.
The bedroom grew quieter again, the rhythm of labor taking hold.
“You’re safe,” I told her, pressing a cold pack to the back of her neck. “You’re strong.”
Jasmine let out a low sound as another contraction rolled through her—stronger this time. I braced my hand against her lower back and rode it out with her, anchoring us both.
She breathed. I breathed.
And for a few minutes, everything was exactly how it should be.
The wind moved gently through the cracked window. Somewhere outside, birds were waking. And inside this little farmhouse, a woman was getting ready to bring her daughter into the world.
