Page 145 of The Goat in the Bedroom
She was due in two weeks but had insisted on coming to the game. Kelsey had flown everyone out on her jet, including Penelope's OB/GYN, Dr. Paula Patel, who was currently eating nachos and watching the pregame like this was totally normal.
“Are you sure you're okay?” Trixie asked Penelope for the tenth time.
“Just Braxton-Hicks,” Penelope said, though she was gripping the couch arm pretty tightly. “I've been having them all morning.”
Dr. Patel glanced over but didn't seem concerned, so we all tried to relax.
The first half was insane. Xander, playing for the Sharks, was absolutely destroying our offensive line. He looked like acompletely different player from the stressed-out rookie who'd been dealing with Sloane's blackmail.
“He's playing angry,” Flynn observed. “But, like, the good kind of angry.”
“Therapeutic angry,” Tempest agreed.
Chris was having the game of his life, threading impossible passes through Miami's defense. Declan had already caused two fumbles. Hayes had run for over a hundred yards. Everett had caught three passes, one for a touchdown.
Penelope whoop-whooped and said, “See, that's why I had to be here.” But every few minutes, she'd go very still, breathing carefully through her nose.
“Pen?” I said quietly during a commercial break. “You sure you're okay?”
She looked at me, then at the game clock showing two minutes left in the half, then at Everett on the field. “Yep. Right as rain. Can't wait to watch the halftime show. You know, we've been in talks for Kelsey to be the headliner in one of the upcoming years.”
But the minute the second half of the game started, Pen stood up and made an uh-oh face. “So, I've actually been in labor since breakfast, and my water just broke. Don't sit on that couch, anybody.”
The suite went silent except for the roar of the crowd below.
“I'm sorry, what?” Kelsey shrieked.
Dr. Patel was already moving, switching from casual friend to doctor in an instant. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“About two minutes.”
“Wow. Okay. Someone please call for the stadium EMTs and tell them we're having a baby.”
Penelope grabbed the arm of the couch as another contraction hit.
“And someone needs to get Everett,” Dr. Patel said calmly, though she was already pulling medical supplies from her bag. Why did she bring medical supplies to a football game? Thank god she did. “This baby is coming now.”
“I'm on it.” Isak was already running for the door.
“Stadium security is never going to?—“.
“They will for a Kingman,” Bridger said. “Go, Isak, go.”
What followed was the most chaotic fifteen minutes of my life. Dr. Patel transformed the suite into a makeshift delivery room, ordering Flynn and Gryff to hold up tablecloths for privacy, getting extra linens from the catering staff, and turning the comfy couch seating area into a makeshift delivery room.
Kelsey was on the phone with stadium security, trying to explain that they needed to escort a player from the field up to the club level suites, and trying to get the EMTs up here too. Willa was timing contractions. Bridger stayed next to Penny, holding her hand and coaching her through her next contraction in a low calm voice like the veteran he was. He had to be so freaking excited he was about to meet his very first grandchild.
And I was trying not to panic because, holy shit, we were having a baby at the Big Bowl.
“I can see Isak on the field,” Jules called from the window. “He's got security with him.”
We could actually see it happening on the jumbotron. Isak running across the field to the Mustangs sideline, grabbing Everett, who looked confused, then shocked, then started sprinting for the tunnel.
He burst through the suite door only a few minutes later, still in full gear, his cleats clicking on the floor, breathing hard.
“Pen, honey, I'm here. Focus on your breathing. What do I do? Has anyone boiled water?”
“About time,” she gasped. “Your son wanted to see his daddy play in the bowl game.”
