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“You must hate me,” she says.
Clenching the steering wheel tightly, I sigh. “I don’t hate you, Mom. What Franco’s done to you is not ok. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
“I know I don’t make it easy on you, but with the twins and losing your father … A lot has happened for me. My attention could only go so far.”
“Well, maybe once Antonio is safe, we can try to … talk more?” I suggest. “I want to talk to you, Mom. It’s all I’ve ever really wanted,” I admit.
I jerk when she slides her hand across my mine, giving it a little squeeze. “I’d like that. I want to try more, too.”
We share a smile before I turn my eyes back onto the road. A long row of cars is backed up, partly from the snow and wind and partly from just New York traffic being New York traffic.
Mom checks her phone. “How much longer are we going to stay here? I want to get moving.”
I’m about to respond when Emilia lets out a small cry. Mom and I turn to look at her. She’s hunched over, clutching her stomach.
“Honey?” Mom reaches her hand back to touch Emilia’s arm. “Are you ok?”
“No,” she grits out, her face turning red. “I think I’m having contractions.”
Mom and I share a concerned look before Mom turns her attention onto Emilia. I keep my eyes on the road, preparing to move the moment I have a chance.
“Just stay calm,” Mom tells her.
“Ah!” Emilia screams. “Oh, it hurts.”
“Ok. Count the contractions. How long between them?”
I inch forward a few feet. We’re stuck in traffic, and Emilia is going to have her baby soon. And we still have to find Antonio.
This is not good.
Emilia screams again. “Uh, it’s only about a minute between. Shit.” I look in the rearview mirror to see what’s going on. Her lower body is soaked. “My water just broke,” she whispers.
“Oh, no. What do we do? What do we do?” Mom begins to panic.
“You’ve had eight kids,” Emilia grits out. “You know what’s happening.”
“Of course, I know what’s happening, but I’ve never had to deliver a baby myself. I was always at the hospital by the time this happened. And I had a C-section for half of you kids!”
While they continue to snap at each other, I know I have to make a decision. I pull to the side of the road and park the car. Mom watches in confusion as I get out and run to the back seat, joining Emilia.
“Somone needs to deliver this baby,” I say. “She’s giving birth.” Both Emilia and Mom are hyperventilating. For such strong women, it’s a little amusing to see them freak out. Normally, I’m the one hyperventilating.
If Mom can’t help Emilia, I’ll have to be the one. Thank goodness I went through a phase where I read about everything to do with the sixteen hundreds. I remember a chapter in one of my books that went into detail about how midwives delivered babies without any medicine or doctors.
“Emilia, I think your baby is coming,” I tell her, helping her lie on her back. Mom watches helplessly from the front seat. Emilia’s screams are piercing my eardrums. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hear normally after this.
I take off Emilia’s pants to get a good look at what’s happening. I can see the baby’s head. The sight of it takes my breath away.
“Ok,” I say. “Your baby is coming right now. I can see its head. You have to push, ok?”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Emilia asks, panic in her voice.
“Yes,” I lie. “You know I read a lot. So, trust me.” Emilia nods, dropping her head back as she cries out.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to give birth until next week. Marco needs to be here with me.”
“Honey,” Mom says, rubbing her arm. “He’s not going to make it. You’re giving birth now.”
