Page 137 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“Trust me,” I sigh. “There’s nothing fun about any of this.”
CHAPTER 53
SPENCER
SEVEN YEARS AGO
“Fuck, this shit hurts,” Harlow cries, pacing her bedroom with a hand to her back. I sit helplessly on her bed, timing her contractions. “If these aren’t real contractions this time, I’m suing. Who I’m suing, I don’t know, but someone is getting sued.”
She breathes out and squats at the same time.
“All right, it’s over,” she tells me so I can track it.
“You’re averaging fifteen minutes between them.”
She drops her head back and lets out a groan. “That’s not good enough. If we go to the hospital they’re going to send me home again.”
We’ve already been three separate times over the past two weeks—all false labor.
“Get out.” She pokes her belly. “I officially evict you, tiny monster.”
“I know this isn’t the best time, but I’d like to point out that once again we don’t have a name picked out.”
She turns, glaring daggers at me. “Fuck. You. At this point I’m naming our offspring Ziploc Bag just to be done with it.”
I hold up a finger. “Let’s not do that, please.”
She sits down in the rocking chair we moved from the nursery into her room, since she said it would benefit her more in here.
No more than she’s sat down, she announces, “I want to shower.”
“Shower?” I repeat. “Now? What if your water breaks? How will you know?”
Again, with daggers glaring. “My back hurts and I want a hot shower. Are you going to deny the mother of your child her dying wish?”
“You’re not dying, you’re in labor,” I reason.
“It’s practically the same thing.” She looks out the window and the weather raging beyond. Tropical storms are rare, and this one, named Monroe, is the worst we’ve had in a century so if Harlow truly is in labor, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Her parents are currently stuck at her aunt’s up in the Napa area and can’t get back here until it passes. “Now, please, if you love me, you’ll help me shower.”
I get up and start the shower for her without another word.
I let the shower warm up and then time her next contraction. When it’s over, I help her out of her clothes and into the shower.
“Please, get in here,” she begs. “I would feel safer if you held me.”
I look around like her dad might climb out of the bathroom cabinet and surprise me. She notices and rolls her eyes. “They’re not here. They’re not even close to here.” She squishes her eyes shut. “How am I going to do this without my mom?”
I don’t have anything to say to that. I’m not in her position, but I can imagine if I was, I’d want my mom too.
I take my shirt and pants off but leave my underwear on when I climb into the shower behind her.
She rolls her eyes at me and huffs a laugh. “Are you scared I’m going to take advantage of you?”
“No, but I…”
“Think my dad might walk in?”
“Stop mocking my paranoia,” I laugh. “You have to admit he pops up at random times.”
