Phoenix
PREGNANCY - THIRTY-SIX WEEKS
“Thanks, guys,” I say to the movers.
“Of course, Mr. Hale. We’ll drop off everything at the donation center downtown,” the tall one says as they wrangle my recliner through the door of my old apartment.
I moved into my new home already, but my apartment just sold a couple weeks ago. I got all new furniture for the house, so my mother, being the soft-hearted woman she is, found a donation site where I could send all my gently used stuff.
Even though it’s December, my clothes are drenched with sweat from helping the guys, so I grab my duffel bag and head to one of the bathrooms to clean up. After showering, I wrap a towel around my waist and reach for my clothes when I hear the doorbell.
Making my way to the living room, I peek through the peephole to find Beatrice. “Hey,” I say, swinging open the door.
“I think I’m in labor,” she says, and my heart stops in my chest.
“But… it’s four weeks early,” I gasp.
She nods, her hands on her pronounced belly. “I know, but the contractions are about six minutes apart.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, grabbing my keys from the hook beside the door.
“Um, Phoenix, you might want to put some clothes on.”
I glance down at myself clad in nothing but a towel. “Oh, fuck. Right. I don’t have anywhere for you to sit because they just took all the furniture, so why don’t you go rest on your couch, and I’ll be right there.” She lives right next door since I moved her into the adjacent apartment shortly after she told me she was pregnant so I could be there for her.
Beatrice’s eyes drag down my bare torso and fall on the spot just above my hip. Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t say anything.
Four minutes later, I’m fully clothed and guiding Beatrice to the elevator. “Shit, contraction,” she pants, and I wrap an arm around her as she stops and bends at the waist.
“I got you. Just breathe, okay?” I say in the calmest voice I can muster, though I’ve never been more afraid in my life.
She inhales and exhales through the pain, and then her scared eyes meet mine. “Will you stay with me?”
I kiss her damp forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
One of the biggest points of contention in our early “negotiations” about the baby had been who would be in the birthing suite with Beatrice at the time of delivery. I had lost that fight.
Ultimately, Beatrice was the patient and it was completely her decision, but I’d begged her to let me be in the room when my daughter was born. She not-so-politely declined, saying she wanted her mother with her, and that was that.
Fast forward to the birthing classes. Gwenyth showed up for the first one, and after that, she always cancelled with one excuse or another, and I was designated as the backup coach.
And now here we are… Reece is on the way, and I’m in the room with Beatrice as she labors.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call your parents?” I ask,swiping a sweaty lock of blonde hair from her forehead, and she shakes her head vigorously.
“No, they don’t care. I want you here.”
It makes me equal parts sad and angry to hear that. I hate the way her family has been treating her since her pregnancy has become obvious. Her father told her she didn’t need to come into the office anymore, and Beatrice has set up her system so she can work from home. I’m not even sure if she’s seen them in person other than at Thanksgiving last month.
“Okay,” I soothe, “whatever you want.”
Another contraction hits, and Beatrice grits her teeth in agony, attempting to rip my hand from its socket. Without complaint, I let her because I know my pain is only a fraction of what she’s feeling.
“Shit,” she groans when it's done, pressing her head back against the pillow and breathing hard.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Dr. Fox said it shouldn’t be much longer.” Sweat beads on her forehead, and I swipe it away with a cool cloth as her eyes find mine. I see a vulnerability there that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from the indomitable Beatrice Bettencourt.
“You got your tattoo removed,” she said, a hint of accusation ringing in her voice, and I remember her looking at my abdomen earlier.
