Page 58 of Filthy Twisted Devil

“Old enough to go to med school and deliver this baby,” Beau says.

When the girls return two hours later, Cat looks slightly pale. Nate shoots to his feet, practically hoisting her into his arms as he quickly gets her into a chair.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Cat shakes her head. “In three months, I’m going to have to do that. She can’t get comfortable, Nate. She tried kneeling and dancing and bouncing on a ball and none of it worked. And it’s going to go on for hours. Hours.”

“That’s not really a surprise, though is it?” Pippa says. “Labor takes a while. You knew that.”

“There’s knowing it and then there’s seeing it with your own eyes.” Cat puts her hand on her rounded stomach. “Baby, you might just have to stay in there forever.”

“When it’s your turn, you’re going to do great,” Eden says encouragingly. “And even if it’s terrible, you’re going to get hit with such a whirlwind of happy hormones to bond with your baby that you’ll forget all about birth.”

Cat looks up at her hopefully. “Really? Is that true?”

“It is,” Brinley declares. “I’ve read about it. It’s like chemical amnesia. It’ll be hard, but you and Maura will both be fine after. Now let’s get you a sandwich, your baby needs nutrients.”

I lean over and ask Eden quietly, “Is that actually true, or are you just making her feel better?”

“Both. You do get the hormone rush, but it’s more effective for some women than others,” she murmurs. “Hopefully Maura and Cat get lucky.”

Beau hands out sandwiches while Nate sets up a Jackbox game on the TV. After a while, Ryan disappears, returning with brightly colored Band-Aids all over his arms. Apparently, he ended up as a patient for some kids in the waiting room pretending to be nurses and was treated for his many fictional injuries with Band-Aids and a lollipop.

After we get bored of playing the game, we flip through the channels until we find a classic movie channel playing a James Bond marathon. We all settle down to make jokes about the 60s haircuts and attempt our best Sean Connery accents. Since Cat’s pregnant, she and Nate lounge on the hospital bed, giving her plenty of room to get comfortable. Beau and Brinley squeeze into an armchair while Pippa and Ryan lie on their stomachs on the sleeping bags they brought.

Even though everyone knows Eden and I aren’t actually a couple, we naturally end up on the padded bench because it’s the only place left to sit. We don’t snuggle up like the others, but it’s still nice to be this close to her.

It feels wrong to be sitting here, enjoying ourselves while down the hall, Maura grits her teeth through birth and James wracks himself with worry. I wish there was something I could actually do, but I don’t have control over the situation. Either Maura’s birth could go well or it won’t.

Because the elephant in the room is that Maura’s heart condition could cause complications. She had a high-risk pregnancy, and there are so many things that could trigger another cardiac event. That’s the real reason we’re here—as moral support, in case anything happens and James needs us.

Slowly, as the night creeps on, people start falling asleep. The room fills with gentle, even breathing. Eden’s head droops several times before she gives up and leans against my shoulder to sleep. The floral scent of her shampoo drifts up to my nose, and I’m struck with the urge to wrap my arm around her and pull her tighter against me.

My eyes grow heavy once we pass 1:00 a.m. I blink and find James Bond in a completely different continent with a brand new Bond girl. I try to stay awake, because it feels like someone should be keeping vigil. Still, I drift in and out of sleep as the clock ticks past two, three, four o’clock.

It’s still dark outside when James walks in with his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His face looks pale and hollow, but he’s beaming with a wide grin I’ve never seen on his face before.

“She’s here?” I whisper, and he nods.

I nudge Eden, who raises her head. When she sees James, she snaps to attention, shaking off the sleep. “Baby?” she asks excitedly.

Next to her, Nate and Cat stir. Ryan sits straight up, his hair sticking up ridiculously. Beau gently shakes the shoulder of anyone who’s not already awake until we’re all ready to hear the news.

“The baby was born ninety minutes ago,” James says. “Sixteen inches long, eight pounds, six ounces. The spitting image of her mother.”

He shows us a photo of a little red-faced baby, bundled up in hospital blankets. She’s got a surprisingly thick head of dark red hair and, unmistakably, Maura’s mouth.

“Oh my god!” Cat squeals. “I take it back. I can’t wait to give birth. That baby is so worth it.”

“She’s perfect,” Pippa sniffs.

“How’s Maura doing?” Brinley asks.

“She’s glowing.” James grins proudly. “You know how tough she is, and she went through it like a champ. Doctors are monitoring her now, but everything looks good. Once she's cleared, she'll be able to hold the baby.”

Brinley slumps with relief and Beau tightens his arm around her shoulders.

“You named her Ryan, didn’t you?” asks Ryan. “Or were you afraid I would give her too much to live up to?”