Page 25 of Snowed in at Santa's Lodge
“I’m sore all over,” he grumbled.
I helped him out. When we got inside, Frosty didn’t jump on either of us. Instead, he quietly followed as I helped my mate into bed and watched until he fell asleep. Frosty slept on the floor next to Aspen’s side.
I went to check emails and messages. We were planning a soft launch around Christmastime, and I’d put out some feelers to see if we could maybe get an influencer to stay with us. I still wasn’t sold on that idea because first weeks could mean things went wrong, and did we really want someone projecting that to the world? In any case, it was worth checking out.
A couple of hours later, Aspen still hadn’t woken, and I went to the bed to check on him. He was rolling around in his sleep, his brow sweaty. Not good.
“Hey, sweetie, you okay?”
I shook him lightly.
“Yeah, I had a weird dream is all. Do you remember that movie where the alien, like, climbs out of another human being…like sheds their skin, and suddenly they’re like, this lizard person?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I nodded because I could picture it.
“I feel like that…like my skin’s gonna pop off.”
“Let me call the midwife.”
“I’m not in labor.”
I wasn’t so sure.
“We’ll just check in.” Thankfully, he was close by.
Nick, the midwife, actually lived a couple counties over but was in town to grab some things from the diner. He hadn’t said as much, but we had the impression he was either dating or wooing the cook. They’d make a cute couple, either way.
Nick came in less than a half hour later, and my mate was pacing.
“He says he’s not in labor,” I told Nick, “but he also feels like he’s going to come out of his skin. Literally, like an alien.”
“So he’s in labor.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Aspen finally came to terms with that being what was happening when Nick told him straight out it was labor and denial didn’t make it less so. It was good that he did because it meant he finally put his birth plan into place. It included a huge exercise ball, multiple showers for the hot water to run on his back, and a whole lot of pacing.
Labor was nothing like what I expected it to be—until suddenly he was calling out in pain and hunching over and blaming me for all that was wrong in this world.
I liked it better when it was pacing and showers, because now—now, I felt helpless. I didn’t care that he told me it was all my fault. It kinda was. But seeing him in such pain…it sucked.
Nick assured us both things were going beautifully.
About an hour into this, Aspen told us it was burning.
“That means it’s showtime.” Nick clapped his hands.
He had me help Aspen climb onto the bed, and then with Nick guiding him and me giving him a hand to hold, he pushed. He pushed and pushed and pushed, stopping when Nick said to and beginning again when directed.
I hated seeing my mate like this. I hated it so much. I would’ve taken his place in a heartbeat.
“You’ve got this, mate.” I kissed his forehead. “You’ve got this.”
“One final push!” Nick shouted.
Aspen groaned, clutching my hand, Nick praising him repeatedly. And then…the sound of our son crying for the first time filled the air, and a joy I didn’t know existed washed over me, tears flowing down my cheeks.
“You have a son.”
