Page 64 of Derecho

“Hey, you need to relax your body when the contractions come.”

“Are you serious? Would you be able to relax at a time like this?”

“No.” I chuckled. “But yes, I’m serious. I know it feels counter intuitive, but you have to go with your body. Don't fight against it.”

“Sure thing, Florence. I’ll get right on that.”

“And that is a straight flush.” Lainey laughed as she laid down her cards on the floor between us. We’d been passing the time for over an hour with the cards…first with Pitch—which she absolutely crushed me in—and now in poker. I had a feeling I was getting hustled this whole time.

“How in the world⁠—”

“No, no, no,” she cried, my blood running cold as I looked up to see the pure terror on her face. I watched her tuck her legs underneath her body, falling forward on her hands. I pushed up from the floor, stepping over the cards to position myself where I could rub her back.

“Is it another contraction?” I asked, double checking my watch because I knew she wasn’t due to have another one for at least two more minutes.

“No. I feel…wet.”

“Wet?” I reached over the toilet to where I had extra towels stored on hooks.

“I thought it would be more. Like the movies. But I just feel wet.”

“I’m not following,” I admitted as I handed her a towel. She immediately pressed it between her legs and sat back down.

“My water just broke.”

Oh, fuck.

“I’m really in labor.”

I took a deep breath, committing the time to my memory. They’d want to know when she was on her way to the hospital, how long it’d been since her water broke. That was one of the important things I remember reading in the books.

“We already knew that.” There was no point in sugar coating it. “Your contractions have been getting closer. They’re every seven minutes now. Have been for the last twenty minutes. And they were eight to nine minutes apart for almost an hour before that.”

“God, we’ve been stuck in here that long?”

“Don’t worry. The warnings are going to lift, cell service will come back, and we’ll be able to get Birdie over here. She’ll be here, and she’ll know what to do.”

“No… ohhhhh shit,” Lainey groaned, her fingers turning white with the strain of her grasp.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t,” she cried. “This hurts…this really fucking hurts, and I’m so mad I’m giving birth in your bathroom right now.”

“I know.” I chuckled. That earned me a death stare, but at least her eyes were back open now. “I’m so sorry. Trust me, this isn’t what I wanted for you, either. We were going to get you to the hospital. I had it all planned.”

I counted the stack of towels. Looked over the two bottles of alcohol. Fought the urge to wash my hands…again.

“They’re hard to breathe through.”

Fuck it. I couldn’t do nothing…I groaned as I leaned a little too much on my left leg, the muscles pulling painfully as I lowered myself to the ground. I swept up the cards and tossed them onto the sink next to our phones. And then I pulled myself up, turning the water on as hot as it would go.

I washed my hands for a count of twenty-six. Then started over again. I had to get this right. If I delivered Lainey’s baby, then everything had to be as safe as it could be. I had to be as safe for them as I could be.

“Lach, please!” Lainey’s hand stretched out toward me. But I wasn’t done. I couldn’t walk away from the sink. If my hands weren’t clean…if they were dirty, filled with dangers I couldn’t see…I could hurt her or the baby. I needed to be sure. I had to finish—“Lach!”

God. Couldn’t she see I was doing my best? If I didn’t get clean, if I had to…if I had to deliver her baby and something happened. The antiseptic smell of the hospital room I’d been confined to after my first surgery slammed into me. I blinked, looking down at my leg while my hands still rubbed back and forth furiously over the bar of soap.

It was healed, gnarly red scars closed up and wrapping around my muscles and bones. I wasn’t in the hospital. I was at home. With Lainey. I was at home with Lainey, who was in labor during the middle of a fucking derecho. “I just need to finish.”