“How far apart are the contractions?” I ask.
“Nine minutes apart.”
“Do you promise to tell me when they’re coming closer together?”
“Only if I get my fajitas.”
“Audrey,” I sigh.
Her eyes narrow. “No. You listen here, Jameson.”
Uh-oh. The government name. Audrey is serious now.
“I was in labor with your son for twenty-eight hours. Well over an entire day! And since the epidural wore off, I experienced pain like you will never truly comprehend. I had a second degree perineal tear because you have an enormous head, so naturally, so does your son. And for that labor, you took me to the hospital when I had my first contraction, and I was already hungry when I got there. They wouldn’t let me eat. If you attempt to abduct me and force me to leave before I’ve filled my stomach, I’m filing for divorce.”
I chuckle, which only aggravates her more. I stifle my laughter and regain a stoic expression. “I promise I won’t force you out of here until you’ve had your fajitas.”
“Thank you,” she says, beaming, but then she gasps. Her eyes dip to the ground, and I know.
“Your water broke.”
“It did. Please let me eat.”
“Baby —”
“Divorce, Wahlberg. Divorce. Let. Me. Eat.”
“Fine. But I’m timing the contractions.” I pull out my phone, where I’ve installed the same app as Audrey. A plate of sizzling fajitas is set in front of her, and I breathe a sigh of relief. We’re that much closer to leaving. Once I get her to the birthing center, I’ll feel even better. While I don’t bring this up to Audrey, I’m pretty freaked out about all the complications that can happen during childbirth, especially to mothers’ of ‘advanced maternal age.’ I also haven’t told her I have two OB’s on call for if they’re needed. I’m not taking any chances. She’s my life.
“Oh my God,” Audrey moans, her eyes closed.
“What?” I shout. “Is it the baby?”
One eye opens. “You seriously need to relax a little. We’re one-point-seven miles from the birthing center. I moaned because this tastes so good. Brooks is going to stay with Chelsea tonight, and you don’t play until next Monday night. Honestly,this little girl must be as Type-A as you, because she’s timing this perfectly.”
I can’t help but smile at the thought. My little girl already has me wrapped around her finger, and she isn’t even born yet.
Twelve hours later, after my rock star wife pushed twice, Magnolia Elise Wahlberg made her debut.
And just like that, my family grew by two perfect feet.
