“Five!” How have I not asked her about this up to now? This should’ve been my first question. “That means you’re moving at one centimeter away from being at the stage where you dilate at one to two centimeter per hour! I’m going to miss it.”
“Which baby notebook is that in?”
“The one where I write down all the numbers I needed to watch out for. That one got a lot of pages devoted to dilation centimeters and what they all mean.”
Somehow my panic is making her look more relaxed. Which at this point, anything I can do to help. “You’re not going to miss it. I’ve been at five for hours. You’re fine. Just breathe.”
“You’re telling me to breathe? That’s not how this goes, Gabrielle.” I want to tell her more about how I’m about to freak the fuck out when I hear the engine of the plane rev up. “I’m hurrying home. I promise.”
“I know you are,” she says. “I’m going to try and sleep. You have a safe flight. And a safe drive.”
“Okay,” I say as the pilot tells us that it’s finally time to take off and to turn off our devices. “And Ainsley’s brother is still good to drive me? I feel horrible how late it is.”
“He’s more than ready,” she says. “His name is Simon. He says you’ll know him when you see him.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I’m honestly not sure.”
2:01 a.m. CT
I’m that guy. The guy who, as soon as the plane lands, stands up, grabs his stuff, and cuts in front of everyone trying to deboard.
I hate that guy.
In my defense, everyone on this flight has given me the green light to do so.
During the three hour and thirty-one minute flight to Memphis, I made friends with about everyone on the plane.Once the flight attendants found out I was onboard, they did everything they could to make sure I had everything I needed. The elderly married couple who sat across from me kept my mind off how long the damn flight was by asking every detail of how Gabi and I met. Gunner and his dad, who wound up in the row behind me and slept for most of the flight, were a great reminder of what I have to look forward to. I also yapped with three lovely women who were sitting in the row in front of me who live not too far from Nashville and can’t wait to come try Sugar and Sweets.
Every one of them heard the story of how Gabi and I met, and of how freaking in love with her I am. Each one gave me a piece of parenting advice they wished they had when they were young. One even gave me an idea for a name for Tiny Tot. One I think could stick.
And most important, every single person told me to make sure that I was the first person off the plane. So maybe I’m not an asshole. I’m just a guy trying to get home, with an unexpected squad making sure it happens as quickly as possible.
“Good luck Maddox! You got this!”
I don’t even know who yelled that, but I hold up my hand to wave as I begin my full-on sprint through the Memphis airport. I quickly sent a text to Gabi and Shelby the moment the wheels hit the tarmac, knowing the second I could leave, I couldn’t bother messaging. And I’m glad I did, because I’m running faster now than I did in my game today. Yesterday? What day is it even?
Considering the hour, the airport is empty, and it’s easy for me to be at full speed. There’s not an option ofnotrunning. I don’t even stop to go to the bathroom. All I can do is focus on signs that say “baggage claim” where I’m meeting a man named Simon. Now it’s just an escalator and a three-hour drive home separating me and my family.
Family. Fuck. That one word has me turning it up another gear. I’m exhausted. My legs are jelly and I can feel the adrenaline starting to fade away. But I can’t let it. Not yet. I can when I get in the car. There’s nothing else I can do as a man named Simon drives me across the state.
Because I need to get to Gabi. My son. My family.
I do my best to quickly jog down the escalator to baggage claim, and I’m halfway down when I see a man holding a sign that says, “The Dad to Be,” and wearing a full chauffeur suit.
“Simon?”
Did he buy that? Did he have something like this at the ready? Who is this guy?
“The one and only!” he says, way too loud considering we’re one of four people in this entire area. “Any bags?”
“Nope.”
“Perfect, I left the car running. It’s right there.”
“Thanks man,” I say as I walk up to the BMW. “You didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it.”
“Nonsense!” he says as he opens my car door for me. He’s really playing up that chauffeur thing. “You’re a friend of Linc—who’s currently sitting at the top of my brother-in-law rankings. You're a Fury player—great interception today, we’re going to be talking about that during this drive. And of course, in a few hours, you’re going to be the newest member of the Dad Squad. Of course I was going to do this. Now get in the car! Let’s fucking go!”
