“Matty Storm,” I say firmly.
She sniffles.
“You are not ruining anything.”
Caison kneels on her other side, looking like he might faint.
“Are you in pain?” he asks.
“Yes!” she screams.
“How much pain?”
“Yes!” she repeats as her face contorts and a contraction hits. She grabs both our hands. “Fuuuuuck.”
Caison’s eyes bulge and dart up to Grandma just as Shelby comes barreling out of the house with Matty’s packed duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
“Is that normal?”
Grandma Evelyn rolls her eyes. “Yes, son, it is.”
“What do we do?” he asks as Waylon rolls up to the bonfire in his truck.
“You take her to the hospital.”
His apprehensive eyes flicker to Matty, and Grandma sighs.
“It’ll be fine. Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time.”
Charli’s pacing with the paper towels clutched in her fist. “Should we call the hospital? We should call someone, right?”
“It’s the hospital, Charli,” I say. “I think they are already equipped for the situation.”
“Right.”
She pulls out her phone anyway.
“Come on, sissy,” I say gently as I reach down to help Matty up.
She grabs my hand. “Harleigh.”
“Yeah?”
She’s crying again. “I’m sorry.”
My chest aches.
I brush her sweaty hair off her forehead.
“You’re about to give me a niece or nephew,” I say. “This is literally the best party surprise ever.”
Shelby crouches beside us.
“Seriously,” she says. “This kid has impeccable timing already.”
Grandma nods. “Wildhaven Storm babies have a habit of arriving with flair.”
Another contraction hits.
