“You’re fired!” I shout, and she rears back.
“Jeez, I was just going to be here until he came back.”
I grab her hand. “I’m sorry, I just… where the hell is he?”
“Dad went down to get him,” Mom says, her phone in her hand, probably trying to call Zander, Beau, or Dad.
Zander went down to the cafeteria fifteen minutes ago to get a drink and a snack with Beau. The nurses said he could, that it was fine, there’s lots of time, then suddenly the doctor comes in and says I’m ready. And now, suddenly, I’m in rapid labor. Everything’s happening so fast, but I am not having this baby without him here.
Dr. Rojas touches my leg. “You’re at ten centimeters, honey. It’s time. We’re gonna push.”
“No. I’m not pushing without him.”
“She’s definitely not a peach right now,” Lottie says to Mom, and they both laugh.
I give them a scathing look signaling that now is not the time, then I tug on Lottie’s sleeve. “Listen, weed, get him here.”
“That’s not an insult. I’m happy to be a weed.” She lifts her chin.
“I called his phone twice,” my mom says. “Maybe there’s no signal down there.”
This entire time we’ve been waiting for our baby boy to come into this world, Zander’s been paranoid, not letting me do anything he thinks might harm the baby, then he needs something to drink right as I go into labor?
“Call Beau,” I grit through my teeth.
“Same thing,” my mom says. “Hopefully Dad will find him, and he’ll make it before the baby comes.”
“He will because the baby isn’t coming out until he’s here,” I say.
“Romy,” my mom says, “you can’t control that.”
Another contraction builds like a rising wave and crashes into me. I scream. The urge to push overwhelms me, but I somehow hold it at bay. I’m not sure how much longer I can.
“Romy”—Dr. Rojas gives me a serious look—“the baby needs to come out.”
I sob and shudder. “No, we have to wait.”
The nurse comes to the side that Zander should be on. “We can’t wait, sweetie. I’m sure your dad will find him before he’s delivered, but it’s time to push.”
The door to the room bursts open and bangs against the stopper.
“I’m here!” Zander’s feet skid to a stop by my bedframe as he grabs my hand. “God, I’m here. I’m here. Jesus, I’m sorry.”
He’s breathless and wide-eyed, cheeks flushed. He must’ve sprinted and taken the stairs or something.
I cry harder, but it’s the good kind of cry—relief. Love.
“You just had to get a Coke,” I snipe.
He presses his forehead to mine. “I know. I know. I will never get a Coke again. But it’s time? He’s coming?”
He sounds so happy my tears freefall down my cheeks.
“It’s time,” Dr. Rojas answers.
Zander looks down, finally noticing my legs in stirrups and the doctor already positioned between them.
“Holy shit, I almost missed it.” He grabs my hand. “Scream at me. Break every bone in my fingers. I’m yours.”
