“I don’t know when you turned into my armchair therapist, but thanks, man. I hear you loud and clear. Like I said, I’m on it. First I have to get Willa to buy the house out here…together. You know, not on her own.”
“Good luck with that, baby daddy.”
I shut my eyes and inhaled; Billy’s inner circle was privy to my ongoing plight—getting her to marry me.
I decided to concentrate on the task at hand, which was seeing our baby delivered. Then we needed to share the Christmas holiday (hopefully back east), and then we could have a conversation about where we would spend the majority of our time. Married or not, Willa and the baby were mine.
“I don’t need luck. Willa loves me; she just needs to think she came up with ideas on her own.”
“You got that right.”
Thankfully we put the relationship talk to rest for the remainder of the ride and concentrated on favorite foods for Thanksgiving. We were having a catered dinner at the condo with Frank and Michael, Ford and Jamie and Laurel, and, I learned now, Sampson.
I wondered if they’d told Beatrice but didn’t really care. I made a mental note to ask Ford and not Billy as we pulled up to the building.
Callum
Except I never got to ask about Beatrice because as I entered Billy’s building from the garage, I got a text from Frank.Where the hell are you?
At the same time, I received a text from Billy.Can you get here quick? Please.
By the time I could respond, the elevator doors opened, and I was barging into the condo, using my key. “Bill?” I hollered, and I heard from the bedroom, “Cal!”
“Coming,” I shouted, holding my phone in my hand.
Preparing for the worst-case scenario, my mind went into doctor mode.
“I’m here,” I said to Frank, who was standing in front of the door, waiting for me. “Willa, babe,” I said, taking in my Billy lying in the fetal position on the bed, in the middle of a contraction, feeling the most helpless I’d ever been.
Sliding next to the mattress, my knees on the floor, I ran my hand down her back.
“Breathe,” I told her. I felt her drag an inhale through her lungs and release it. Her body scrunched, and I could feel the beginning of a cold sweat through her shirt.
I let her ride the moment out; when it was over, she turned in the bed to face me. Her makeup was still pristine, hair matted to the side she was lying on, and there was a glistening in her eyes.
“Babe—” I repeated my earlier sentiment, fumbling for words.
Frank interrupted. “Three and a half minutes.”
“What? Why are you still here?”
“Shewanted to wait for you, and you know how demanding she can be.” Frank defended himself, glaring at me. “Maybe if you came earlier, yesterday…”
“Stop, Frank. Enough. I knew you were close.” Billy said the last part to me through a raspy voice.
“Come on.” I picked up a relatively slight Billy in my arms.
“Sampson is waiting downstairs,” Frank added as I made my way out of the room, my woman in my arms.
“I’m heavy,” she started to say, and I firmly said, “Shut it.”
All practice and education as a doctor long gone, I was currently acting like a caveman, and nothing could stop me.
“Did you call Barnswell? On his private line?” I finally asked when I had Billy in the car. I could tell she was feeling another contraction coming on.
“I didn’t bring my bag,” she murmured.
“Glory will grab it,” I said, looking at Frank, who was on his phone.
