“You’re going to be the best mom ever.” He smiled.
Tara nodded. “You are. I remember you saying you wanted a houseful of kids back when you were a little girl. You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
Christina’s eyes opened, wet but determined. “I hope so.”
The rain drummed against the roof of the truck. Will took the curves as fast as he dared, windshield wipers fighting a losing battle against the deluge.
“Almost there,” he called from the front seat.
Through the rain-streaked window, Tara could make out the lights of the hospital appearing through the storm. Ally’s car was already in the parking lot—she must have broken every speed limit to get here first. And there was Evan’s SUV, parked crookedly across two spaces.
Christina squeezed Ryan’s hand as another wave of pain crested.
“Six minutes,” she managed through gritted teeth.
Will pulled up to the emergency entrance. Hospital staff in rain-soaked scrubs were already running toward them with a wheelchair.
“Singleton?” one of the nurses asked, checking a clipboard.
“Yes. Christina Singleton. Her water broke about an hour and a half ago. Contractions six minutes apart now.”
The nurse nodded, already wheeling Christina toward the automatic doors. “Let’s get you inside and checked out. First baby?”
“Yes.”
“How many weeks?”
“Thirty-eight.”
They passed through the automatic doors into fluorescent light and the sharp antiseptic smell of the hospital. Ally was there, jumping up from a plastic chair in the waiting area. Evan and Emily were close behind her, smiling.
“We’re taking her to triage,” the nurse announced. “One family member can come back. The rest of you can wait here.”
Tara didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Christina’s hand again and followed the wheelchair down the corridor, past curtained bays and beeping monitors and other families in various stages of waiting.
“Room four,” the nurse said, pushing through another set of doors. “Doctor’s on her way. Let’s see how dilated you are.”
Christina looked up at Tara, fear flickering across her face.
“I’m right here,” Tara said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The nurse was already helping Christina onto the bed, handing her a gown, rattling off questions about allergies and medical history. Tara answered what she could and held Christina’s hand through another contraction—five and a half minutes this time, stronger than the last.
Through the window, she could see the storm still raging. Everyone was here, waiting to welcome a new person into the world.
Baby Violet was going to be as spoiled as baby Grace. Tara smiled.
The doctor swept into the room, snapping on gloves.
“All right. Let’s see how this baby’s doing.”
CHAPTER 16
CHRISTINA
Seven pounds, four ounces.
The nurse said the number like it was just information, data to record on a chart, but Christina couldn’t stop repeating it in her head. Seven pounds, four ounces. That was the weight of her whole world now, wrapped in a hospital blanket and nestled against her chest.
