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“Why was she crying?” Steel asked as he pulled into the driveway. He didn’t sound happy at all. In fact, he sounded downright pissed. “Do I need to kick Linc’s ass?”
I patted his hands and hopped out of the car, hurrying toward the front door.
Linc, my girl’s husband, opened the door with a very large scowl on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, scared now that I saw the look on his face.
“You better not have hurt her, motherfu—” Steel’s words trailed off when he saw the same thing I did. “Why do you have blood on your clothes?”
Linc opened the door wide.
“That would be because your stubborn, crazy, silly, probably going to die on me daughter is having our baby in the bathtub right now!” he all but bellowed.
We both stopped in the doorway, Linc only inches away from us.
Just as we were processing the words, my daughter’s long wail came from the stairs, and I was running.
When I got inside, it was to find Conleigh on her knees in the bathtub, staring at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“I’m not having this baby in a hospital.” She panted through a contraction. “I need you and Linc. I need everyone here. I can’t do this alone.”
I was already moving toward her, a professional mask that you could only derive from years of working as a paramedic slipping into place.
“How far along are you?” I asked, worried now.
Just as she was about to answer, Ellen, Linc’s stepmother, rushed into the room.
“Oh, thank God,” Linc said as we both greeted each other. “Now you both need to talk her out of this crazy shit right the hell now. Conleigh, your mother is a paramedic. Ellen is a nurse practitioner. They know what they’re talking about. Listen to them.”
“I’m not going to die,” Conleigh said through gritted teeth. “Now, help me have this baby, or get out!”
Linc stiffened.
“Wait!” she cried. “I don’t want you to get out. Get in here.”
Linc looked at the tub filled with water, then to me and Ellen as if he was waiting for one of us to talk her out of it.
I didn’t think that we could.
Conleigh had always had a very stubborn mind of her own. If she’d set it on something, she was going to do it. There would be no talking her out of it.
“How far apart are your contractions?” Ellen asked.
“Umm,” Conleigh said. “Right on top of the other. I didn’t call you until they were really close. Also, um, I can feel the head.”
I looked down at where my daughter’s hands were, then immediately went to the sink and started to wash my hands. Ellen followed suit at the sink next to me.
When we were done, Linc was stripped down to his underwear and sliding into the water behind his wife.
“This is so gross,” he said as he slid in. “If you do anything in this tub besides lay in it, I’m out.”
Conleigh laughed. “Liar.”
Book:Law & Beard
CHAPTER 14
Bring me donuts not flowers.
