“Actually, we can. The Whitbreads were more than generous and with all the publicity, our email account is filled with people wanting our services.”I don’t mention how I negotiated with Vincent to pay Joey’s salary. We can discuss that at another time.
Chapter 30
Sam
Seven Months Later…
I tug on the rope hanging from the ceiling outside Rose and Mia’s bathroom. The attic stairs drop down, I waddle up, and they fold flat as I pull them closed behind me. Instead of a loft-slash-office, we now rent an attic apartment, complete with two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen and a real living room.
“Honey, I’m home.” I poke my head in the bathroom.
Trowel in hand, Suds kneels in the tub, filling the spaces between the tiles with grout. Covered in white splotches, he stands and kisses me. With those low-rise jeans and a Henley rolled to his elbows, he might be the sexiest man in Brooklyn. Too bad I’m the size of a beached whale.
“Hey sugar. How’re things in salon-land?” He laughs because as we hug, he has to lean over to reach my lips.
“Other than getting advice from every blue-haired Nosy Nancy in the neighborhood, I’m fine.”
“It’s a sign from above. It’s high time you quit.”
“Oh my God. I can’t sit home and eat bon-bons. I’ll go nuts.” Grabbing a water, I sit at the pine barstool in front of our granite covered island that separates our kitchen from our living room.
As a habit, I look up, half-expecting Catrina to descend a spiral staircase. Instead, she jumps off the living room window sill, stairs at the fridge, at me, then back at the stainless-steel door.
“I fed you, you big liar.” Suds scratches her head and she eyes him as he washes his hands in the sink. With one last dirty look, she saunters back to her busy day.
Chuckling, my gorgeous husband stands behind me. “Father O’Connell’s assistant called while you were out. She wants us to stop by and sign up for baptism classes. Don’t they just pour water on the infant and pray? What more do we need to know?”
I lean back when his arms wrap around my enormous belly. “The church wants to make sure I don’t forget the stuff I learned in grade school and update me on anything that’s changed.”
“After two thousand years, seems to me, shit should be pretty stable.” He nibbles my ear hoping to get out of more classes but we’ve had this conversation plenty of times during the last few months.
“It’s their party and unless we want to choose some other faith…” Turning my head, I raise a brow, and he shrugs.
“We could always ask my stepmother.”
“Snakes, Suds? Really?” I shoot him my you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look and he grins.Thank God, he’s joking. For a moment, I wondered.
“They only bite the sinners, sugar.”
“You make my point. Besides, being Catholic is a lot less painful, unless you consider one of Father O’s sermons.”
“No way. The man is pure genius. Last Sunday, he rambled so long, the next service was twenty minutes late.”
“Impressive, considering he has a thirty-minute buffer. I had to pee twice before he was finished. Speaking of that…” I stand and fluids gush, drenching my leggings.
I’m dumbstruck by the pool of liquid but Suds, the warrior, bolts into action. “Water broke. Copy that. I’ll get our stuff.”
He races down the hallway, returns with our go bags, and grabs my coat.
“No, no, hold on, I’m not having any pain.”I don’t need to remind him because the midwives said over a hundred times not to go to the hospital until I do.
Frowning, Suds informs them of our status and turns to me. “Susan is standing by. I told her we’d meet her in the birthing room in about a half hour.”
“Call her back. We talked about this. I haven’t even had a-” I sit when a cramp starts as pain level one, shoots to a seven, and ends.
“Quick, time me.”
He presses start on his phone’s stopwatch. Together, holding our breaths, we stare and wait. And exhale. And wait. The next one comes thirty minutes later.
