“Have some faith in my grandson,” Pop whispered.
Rupert delivered five jokes. They weren’t great jokes, but his stage presence and timing reminded me of professional stand-up performers. His jokes were what seven-year-old’s thought hilarious and adults laughed at because his delivery was so good.
“What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.”
The audience roared with laughter, and Thorne beamed at his little boy. Pop was recording on his phone, and Dad was teary, but that happened a lot these days.
Rupert finished with a bow and walked off stage, and everyone in our family, apart from Thorne, stood up and cheered.
“He's a natural,” Pop said.
“He gets that from Bodie.” He had Bodie’s stage presence and his ability to keep the audience in the palm of his hand.
During the intermission, Pop and I got everyone sodas, and when I returned, Thorne was on his feet, swaying. I offered to get more cushions from the car, but he said he’d been sitting too long and needed to move.
Later during a dance recital, my mate grabbed my arm. “Oh, that was something else.” He gripped his bump. “That was a contraction.”
“Braxton Hicks,” I said confidently because I’d read all the baby books.
“I’m not sure.”
Minutes later he doubled over and whimpered. “We need to get out of here because even if the baby isn’t coming, my moans will drown out the kids on stage.”
“That’s not Braxton Hicks.” Janine took Thorne’s arm and guided him along the row with me at his heels.
“I’ll get the car.” Pop was jingling the car keys as Thorne held my hand and we breathed through the next contraction.
“There’s no time.” Janine was on one side of Thorne and I was on the other. “Either our grandchild is born in the back seat, by the side of a highway, or here at school.”
Euan spoke to a teacher and asked if there was a room we could use, and she suggested a staff room and pointed down the hallway. The room had a couch that I doubted would be any use to Thorne, but we could maybe pile the cushions on the floor.
This wasn’t how we’d planned our little one entering the world, but I doubted the baby cared. It was my mate I was worried about. Giving birth on the staff room floor hadn’t been an option we’d considered when discussing birth plans.
Pop went to call an ambulance, but Janine said there was no time. “The baby’s coming.”
I had to be at my mate’s side and wished we didn’t have an audience of four grandparents, but if it didn’t bother Thorne, I was fine with it. But my folks sensed they weren’t needed and blew my mate a kiss, saying they’d wait with Rupert out of earshot. Euan followed, leaving me with my mate and Janine.
Thorne’s grunts and body language reflected the pain he was in. But in his eyes there was only calm. I marveled at his ability to keep the panic at bay because I was freaking.
“Raff.” He leaned against me, and his belly tightened as a cramp took hold. We breathed together, and the rest of the world fell away.
“This is terrible timing,” he gasped.
“I disagree. The baby was eager to hear his brother’s jokes and that kid’s magic tricks, and they’re peeved they missed them.”
He laughed, or tried to before the next contraction gripped him, and he crushed my hand. But for whatever reason, our baby wanted out. Thorne and I paced around the room as Janine piled cushions on the floor and covered them with her shawl and towels a teacher brought in.
“Our little one is impatient,” my mate grunted as I rubbed his back.
“We’ll meet them soon. Maybe their first words will be, ‘Ta-da!’”
“Don’t make me laugh.”Thorne panted through a contraction and asked me to remove his clothes and get him onto the cushions. He got on hands and knees, and Janine got in front, breathing with her son, while I kneeled behind him. I was a newbie at being present during a birth, but I wanted to watch our child being born and be the first to hold them.
“I need to push.” Thorne’s screech rattled a trophy on a shelf as he scrunched up the towels in his fists.
“Push on the contraction,” Janine urged him.
Right, I knew that but was glad she had reminded Thorne.
There wasn’t one push, but many. I kinda expected the baby to appear after a couple, but after each one, Thorne became more exhausted. But when I announced I could see the baby’s head—at least I assumed that was what I was seeing—that renewed his energy, and he continued to push and yell that he was birthing a watermelon.
When the baby’s head emerged, I was able to tell him our little one was no watermelon. I was in awe of what my mate was doing.
“Keep pushing. Once the shoulders are out, you’re almost done,” Janine whispered.
I guided our child into the world as Thorne pushed them out, and I held the little girl in my arms.I couldn't speak, but this wasn’t “an angel passed” moment. This was a joyous one to remember for eternity and celebrate, but as Janine lowered Thorne onto the cushions, I tamped down the desire to shriek, “We have a daughter.”
Janine covered Thorne with more towels and went to tell the others, leaving us to hold one another and admire our baby. But I asked her to let Rupert in because he was an integral part of our family and I didn’t want him to be left out.
“A girl? That’s different because both families only had boys.” Rupert peered at her. “I wonder if she likes flamingos.”
