Thank God for my sister, cousin, and best friend.
Once the bags are on the passenger seat, I crank the heat and get the hell out of the parking lot. There are even fewer people out now than when I pulled in, making the streets almost barren except for the snow. Not for the first time, I thank the few men in my life who actually care, because at least my truck is prepared for the snow. It’s the only thing that’ll get me to the hospital—weather forbid it—if my water breaks while I’m alone.
Can I deliver my own baby? Sure.
Do I want to? Not a chance.
I need Frankie to do that while Sophia, my best friend, and Victoria, my sister—also a trauma nurse at the hospital—hold my hands.
And yet, I mentally add‘prepare for a home birth’to my to-do list for when I get home.
My hands tremble from the thought—and the cold—as I slow, taking each street carefully. There are almost no other cars on the road now.Shit. I should have thought this through. I never should have left the house.
But we hadn’t been warned about this. And now…
My stomach cramps like a warning, a very,verybad warning. I keep my grip on the steering wheel steady, pulling long, calming breaths in and releasing them slowly. Mentally, I prepare for another cramp, but I can’t check myself for the signs of labour while I drive; the road is too heavily covered in snow now, and although my truck has gotten me through my fair share of winters, I don’t know if it’ll push me all the way home—help be damned.
I have enough firefighters saved on my cell that rescue won’t matter. But freezing? Yeah, I’m scared of that, and it is mighty cold right now.
My cheeks burn despite the heat barely coming through the vents. The longer I drive, the slower the truck gets, and the more the engine yells at me toget the fuck off the road.
I grit my teeth, pulling down the long street that hides my little home.So close, I tell myself, smiling despite the panic. All I have to do is make it to my driveway, then it won’t matter. I can pull the truck in and make a mad dash into the house and bunker down for the rest of the day until the storm passes.
The motel I pass daily has aNO VACANCYsign out, and the blinking neon sign that normally directs travellers into their lot is dark.
Oh God, please don’t let the power be out. That’s the only thing I’m not prepared for. I only moved in a couple of months ago after the lease on mine and Rob’s old apartment in town ended and I needed to find something new with space for me and the baby. The old apartment, thankfully, had a backup generator courtesy of the manager.
But I never got the chance to get my own for the house.
The longer I crawl down my street, the less light comes through the snow. All the panic I’d shoved down earlier comes back full force.
But by some miracle, my phone rings, and my friend’s name appears on the screen.
“Hey!” I say, answering quickly. “What’s up?”
“You aren’t out right now, are you?” she asks, her voice like static. “Skye?—”
“I’m heading home now,” I reply, ignoring the thundering beat of my heart. “Don’t worry. I literally see my driveway.”
Soph releases a shaky breath. “Maybe I should stay with you for a couple of days,” she offers hesitantly. “The storm is going to be bad. Noah got me from the hospital, and they’re preparing for a bad one.”
A chill rolls down my spine. “And you aren’t on call?”
“Can’t,” she says. “Nurse Hollie needs one hundred percent, and I am not that.”
“Which means Victoria is there.”Shit. They work in the same department; after the accident, Sophia hasn’t been allowed back at work. And if she’s going home, that means…
“I saw her get in, and she’s okay, but you shouldn’t be alone. Is Millie home?” Soph asks, trying to come across as less concerned than she actually is.
She’s trying not to add to my panic, which I appreciate. But that ship sailed the moment I left the house in this weather without having a plan.
“No,” I finally say, the snow forcing me to slow to a gurgling crawl. “She’s not home this week. She went to see her brother in Denver.”
Shit, shit, shit. Another dull cramp hits my lower back, forcing me to suck in a deep breath.It’s too soon. I refuse to give birth now.
Then the truck sputters to a stop. “Fuck.”
“What just happened?” Noah asks, his voice coming through the speaker of my cell.
