Page 138 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“This is true,” she agrees, leaning her back against my front. “Can you hold my belly? It feels so heavy.” I wrap my arms around her and use my hands to lift the bottom of her stomach. She relaxes into me even more. “Oh, that feels good.”
“Turn around,” I tell her. “Let the water hit your back and I’ll hold your belly from the front.”
She listens and slides her hands up my torso until she twines her arms around my neck. “Hi.” She blinks up at me.
“Hi,” I chuckle, holding her stomach again.
“You have no idea how much relief that brings.”
I’m not sure how long we’re in the shower, but we don’t get out until the water begins to grow cold. I help her into a fresh pair of sweatpants and over-sized t-shirt.
Outside, the storm seems to have gotten impossibly worse.
“I think we better go,” I tell her. “I don’t want the weather to get worse than this, and I’m not equipped to deliver this baby.”
She bites her lip, eyeing her packed bag in the corner. “What if it’s a false alarm again?”
“The contractions are getting closer together.” I had continued to time them while we were in the shower and the time between has went from fifteen minutes to eleven. “And you’ve had them all day.”
She looks out the window and frowns. “You’re right.”
Thank God she agrees so easily.
Scooping up her bag, I swing it over my shoulder. There’s a change of clothes in there for me, and everything she needs, as well as the baby things, so there’s nothing else to grab since the car seat is already installed in my car.
“Should you call your mom?” I ask, holding her hand down the stairs since I’m worried she might get another contraction on the way down.
“I’ll call her once we get there and know more.” With a whimper, she says, “I don’t know if I can do this without my mom or Willa.”
“You have me,” I tell her, slipping on my shoes when we get to the bottom of the stairs. Then I help her into her pair of slip-on clogs. “I know how much you wanted your mom there and your sister if she could make it, but if the baby is coming now, then we’ve got to do what we can, okay?” She nods, but I still see the sadness in her eyes. I press a quick kiss to her lips. “You’re going to be amazing.”
Since her parents are gone, I had moved my car into the garage and with how badly it’s raining I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I’d be worried about her slipping and falling.
“If you want my mom to come, I’ll call her, but I know it’s not the same as having yours.”
She shakes her head, her cheeks pinkening. “No. Just you.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the garage and open the passenger door for her.
“Hold on,” she grits out. “Another contraction.”
I fumble for my phone so I can pull up the app and time them.
“That one was nine minutes apart.”
Panic fills her eyes. “This is really happening this time, isn’t it?”
“I think so.”
Once she’s seated, I strap the seatbelt across her and toss the bag in the backseat. I’m panicking, but I don’t dare let her know that.
The drive to the hospital is terrifying to say the least—both due to the weather and the obvious pain Harlow is in. Thehospital isn’t far, but I swear the twenty minutes feel more like an hour by the time we arrive. I pull up to the entrance and help Harlow out onto a bench just inside the door while I park the car.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and grab the car seat.
“Did you have to park a mile away?” Harlow gripes when I finally run inside. “That took you forever.”
“Pretty much.” I shrug. “Do you need a wheelchair?”
