“I need you to get it out, Drew.” Her voice had gone calm, which should’ve made me feel better but only scared me more.
“Get what out?” I asked as if I were talking a jumper off the ledge.
She made a karate chop motion to the side of her rounded belly. “The baby. Get. It. Out.”
I must have shrunk an inch as my body sagged. A relieved chuckle escaped my mouth.
Ginny’s eyes flashed.
Right. No humor past the due date. “Ginny, you just made such a comfortable home in there that the little dude wants to stay a bit longer.”
She huffed. “I don’t care. Serve him his eviction notice.”
“Have you tried everything your doctor suggested?”
“My feet hurt I’ve walked so much. I can’t drink another cup of red raspberry leaf tea, and my stomach will revolt if I try to force more castor oil down. Plus, Eric’s helped with all the recommendations on his end.”
I held up a hand. “I don’t need to hear about that.”
“But the baby still hasn’t come.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Trust your body. It’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to.”
She pushed against my ribs and glared at me. “You’re no help.”
Eric came down the stairs. “Did she convince you to use the dining table as an OR to perform a C-section yet?” He grinned at Ginny.
“You’re never touching me again,” she said past gritted teeth.
“Food is ready,” a third voice called from the back of the house where the kitchen was located.
“Mom’s here?” I asked
“She made a tried and true labor-inducing eggplant parmesan. At least someone in my family is willing to help me.” Her pointed look threw daggers at Eric and me.
“I hate to burst your bubble, sis, but Italian food doesn’t induce labor.”
Eric groaned. “Couldn’t you have let her have this?”
She turned and planted a hand on her hip. “I’ll have you know this is a famous recipe. The restaurant in Georgia that created the dish swears by its effectiveness. Over three hundred women have gone into labor within forty-eight hours after eating it, and I intend to be among their ranks.”
Owen tried to barrel past on his way to the food, but Ginny’s hand darted out and stopped him. “Wash up first.”
He rolled his eyes, but trudged to the half bath off the hall.
The smell of fried food caused my stomach to growl. Leaving Ginny and Owen, I walked to the kitchen. Mom had on a ruffled apron over her Scooby-Doo scrubs. She must have come straight from the pediatric dentistry office. She turned, a bowl of spaghetti in her hands.
“Here, let me take that.” I relieved her of the pasta, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“So, I do have a second child. I was beginning to wonder if my memory was playing tricks on me and I’d been breaking and entering into a stranger’s house to drop off meals.”
I cringed and set the bowl on the table. “Sorry. I’ve been really busy lately.”
The scolding expression she’d adopted for show vanished. Her mouth bowed, and her eyes brightened. “So I’ve heard.”
Didn’t need to call 811 before digging here. I could feel the underground current pulsing.“What does that mean?”
She transferred a green salad to the table. “Just that the hospital isn’t the only place you’ve been seen at night, and patients aren’t the only people you’ve been spending time with.”
