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But there’s something unusual. It might be why my sixth sense told me to get close to her. “Baby Belle?” I touch her shoulder. Now I want her to wake up.
“Clayton?”
“Baby…”
“Huh?” She isn’t still quite with herself—she must’ve been in a deep sleep just now.
“Sweetheart, I think your water broke.”
That wakes her up. “What? Really? Turn on the light, baby.” She observes the wet patch under her. “No blood? Did you see any blood?”
“No,” I reassure her.
“Jesus! How did I sleep through it? How come you knew?”
I smile proudly. “Must’ve been all the bump-talks.”
She laughs, then places her hand on my cheek. “I’ll get dressed.”
“I’ll help you. You okay?” I observe her grimacing.
“The contractions have started.”
“Wait here. I’m gonna wake Thomas up, and then I’ll come and get you.”
“Clay…” She squeezes my hand.
She never said it, but I know she’s still traumatized by her last pregnancy. It’s my turn to be her rock now. “Everything will be all right, I promise.”
I knock on Thomas’s door, and as soon as I tell him, the man cries like he’s going to be a father himself. Isabelle told me about the night she lost her baby—how Thomas stayed by her side and comforted Raffi while apparently Don was fast asleep in his home. And that boy was still eighteen at the time!
I give him a reassuring hug. “Hey, she’ll be okay.”
“I know! I know!” He sniffles. “I’m just so happy…”
“You keep an eye on Raffi and Matty, okay? Call me if there’s anything.”
The time passes, dragging on and racing at the same time.
Now I’m waiting for her to come out of the C-section surgery while Rob is keeping me company, this time with a thermos full of Mama’s coffee.
“How did you do it with Graeme?” I say to him as he refills my cup. This waiting is driving me nuts.
“I was going crazy, if you remember. I’m kind of thankful that Mia didn’t give any of us a chance to get nervous like that.”
Mia’s arrival was quick, and thanks to my Baby Belle, it was safe, too. That’s what I remember that day by—not the other noises.
The doctor comes back to us earlier than expected. “Congratulations, Mr. Hartley. It’s a boy. One impatient baby, but he’s healthy.”
My head falls on Rob’s shoulder.
“Well done, Clay!” His embrace never fails to remind me that, despite life’s many changes, we are forever brothers. Nothing will replace or alter what we have together.
“How’s my wife doing?” I ask the doctor.
“She’s ready to see you, and the baby is with her.”
I hold Rob’s shoulder. “Hey, man. Isabelle and I have decided, if it’s a boy, we’ll name him Faber Robson Hartley.”
