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“It might have been a contraction.” Charlie pasted on the fakest smile he’d ever seen and released her grip on the glass. “Should we order an appetizer? The stuffed mushrooms here are delicious.”
“Are you serious? When did they start?” Jake pulled the menu from his wife’s hands, not that Rock blamed him. If the woman was in labor, whether or not to order an appetizer shouldn’t be on her mind.
“About forty minutes ago, but I’m not convinced they’re not Braxton Hicks contractions.”
He had no idea what those were, but if the word contractions was at all involved, a restaurant seemed like the wrong place to be sitting.
“We’re going to the hospital.” Jake stood and pulled back his wife’s chair.
“Jake, even if they are real, we both know it’ll be hours before anything happens. If we go to the hospital now, they’ll send us home.”
“Trust me, they won’t send us home.” Jake reached for Charlie’s hand when she didn’t stand.
“We’re not going to the hospital,” Charlie said, her voice ringing with all the authority of a gunnery sergeant. “But if it’ll make you feel better, we can—” she paused again and took in a deep breath; after slowly exhaling, she continued “—go home.”
Jake gave his wife’s arm a little tug, his expression revealing the fact he wanted to argue but knew it’d be pointless. “Fine. Let’s go. Now.”
“It was nice seeing you again, Rock.” Charlie stood in no apparent rush, and Rock wondered if she was intentionally being slow to annoy her husband. Somehow, he could picture his sister doing the same thing to Trent when the time came. “Addison, Trent, I’ll see you on Sunday at the fundraiser.”
Rock doubted Jake would let his wife out of the house again unless it involved a trip to the hospital.
“Charlie.” Jake tugged his wife’s arm again and received a swat on the hand in return.
Across the table, Trent laughed. “You look a bit worked up there, Jake. Do you need a ride home or can you handle it?”
“Just wait, Trent, until it’s your turn.”
Trent laughed again. “Let us know what happens.”
Charlie nodded and allowed Jake to lead her away from the table and out of the dinning room.
“I’ve never seen him so worked up,” Allison said from next to him.
He wouldn’t have pegged Jake Sherbrooke for the type to overreact and worry either. After all, he did run a disaster relief foundation. He’d expect someone who did that type of work to be cool and collected in an emergency situation.
“If he keeps it up and Charlie is in labor, she’ll kick him out of the delivery room,” Trent said, picking up his menu as a waiter approached their table.
Conversation at the table stopped long enough for everyone to place their dinner orders. Once the waiter walked away, Rock looked back at his sister. “How long are you and Trent staying down here?” Assuming it fit into his schedule, he’d like to see them again before they returned to Providence.
“Until––” Trent’s ringing phone cut off his sister.
“It’s Ja
ke,” Trent said as he pulled out his cell phone. “I bet he does need help getting home.”
No one spoke as Trent answered the phone. “Keep us updated,” Trent said after a few seconds. Then he put the phone back into his pocket and looked in Rock’s direction. “We’ll be here until Wednesday.”
“Who cares,” Allison said. “Why did Jake call? Is something wrong?”
Trent shrugged and Rock suspected he was trying to annoy his younger sister. As an older brother himself, he knew how much fun that could be no matter your age.
“Nothing big. Charlie’s water broke in the parking lot. They’re headed to the hospital.”
“That’s terrible. Uncle Warren won’t be around when this baby is born either,” Allison said.
Rock almost laughed. To hear the President of The United States referred to as “Uncle Warren” just seemed wrong. After all, Warren Sherbrooke was one of the most powerful men in the world.
“He was in England when my cousin Callie had her son in September and now he’s in Turkey,” Allison said, looking at him and explaining her comment. “He won’t be back until Tuesday or Wednesday I think.”
