Page 14 of Blizzard Babies
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
It’s slow going because of the wind. I have to keep my head down, and pushing through snow drifts is exhausting. Luckily, the adrenaline kicked in again and the nausea abated.
Hopefully, the baby growing inside of me is being rocked to sleep by my movement and blissfully unaware of how stressed I am. Ironically, I’m not particularly worried for myself. I’m dressed for the weather and believe help is close, so it isn’t about me.
I’m far more concerned that Laurel is in labor four weeks early. She’s being brave about how scared she is, but there’s no doubt she’s terrified.
We all are.
That’s why I’m out here braving the elements.
Yes, we all know that historically women gave birth in much less convenient environments than a warm car with friends who are at least somewhat educated in what to do. Other than Sara, we don’t have much medical knowledge, but Laurel and I have both been through childbirth, and we all watched and read all kinds of pertinent information.
We’ll figure it out.
The issue, of course, is the possibility of complications. If anything at all goes wrong, none of us are prepared. Hell, I’m fairly certain we don’t even have a way to cut the cord, so while we’ll do whatever is necessary, so many things can go wrong.
As someone who’s given birth in a hospital with all the care I needed, I can’t imagine going through it in a car without any kind of medical assistance. And I don’t want that for Laurel either.
I’m also plagued with a bit of guilt because it was my idea to go out to breakfast in the first place. We probably should have stayed home knowing there was a bad storm coming.
I was also the one driving, and there’s a part of me that isn’t sure I did everything I could to avoid the accident. It wasn’t my fault, but there were probably better ways to handle it other than just jerking the wheel. I don’t know what else I could have done, but I still feel responsible.
Ahead, in the distance, I suddenly see light.
Whatever it is, it calls to me like a beacon, and I move a little faster, hoping there’s someone there. If not, I have to consider doing something illegal. I can’t imagine I’ll get more than a fine if I break a window of a home or business so I can use the phone to get help.
Right?
The thought of going to jail is a little daunting, but I’ll figure it out. Miikka will hire me a great lawyer. Surely, they’ll understand as long as we pay for the damage.
I let my thoughts run wild, imagining what I’ll look like, six months pregnant in prison stripes or something equally ridiculous.
I almost laugh.
It takes a lot longer than I hoped, but that damn light is getting closer and it looks like a house.
Please please please let someone be home.
Where else would they be in a storm like this?
I pick up my pace and get to the yard of a small house. Now that I’m here, I can see other houses, and relief washes over me. Someone will be home in one of them. Hopefully, none contain serial killers.
I knock on the door loudly, pounding repeatedly.
Then I hear footsteps.
Thank goodness.
“Oh my!” A startled looking man of about sixty stares at me. “Are you all right, miss?”
“We were in a car accident,” I whisper, taking a breath. “Can I use your phone?”
Chapter 8
Gage
Two hours up and down the highway with no sign of them.
