Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I’ll get them,” said April. “I know where they are. Whit and Keaton, want to help me?”
Sylvia’s kids followed April and Chloe toward the back hallway leading to the house, their voices chattering with excitement.
“I brought you the tea,” I said, desperate to be useful. “Would you like a sip?”
Meg shook her head, then glanced back at her mom. “Sorry . . . about . . . the couch. I got . . . it wet.”
“Oh honey, don’t even think about it,” Daphne soothed. “But I wish you’d let Noah take you to the hospital. The drive could be long with this weather. I want you to make it there in plenty of time.”
“In a minute.” Meg closed her eyes and her breathing seemed to slow. “Okay. Okay. I think I can stand.”
Frannie and I jumped to our feet and slowly helped Meg rise. “Easy now,” I told her, although I was feeling incredibly uneasy about this sudden turn of events.
“I think I’ll just move around a bit,” said Meg, swaying from side to side as she slowly made a circle around the sofa. I stayed with her, holding her by the elbow, worried she might bump into something in the dark, or lose her balance. I was sweating profusely, and the snow gathering in the corners of the inn’s large front windows was not reassuring.
Meg’s father, John, came over to her other side, and the two of us helped Meg stay upright as she took wide, plodding steps.
“Are you having contractions, Meg?” Frannie asked.
“Yes,” Meg said. “I’ve been having them all day, but I thought they were those fake ones. Suddenly they’re coming so fast.”
John and I exchanged a look. “Um, how far apart are they coming now?” I asked.
“It’s—hard to say.” Meg stiffened, her fingers digging into my arm. “They haven’t been consistent, and they weren’t that bad until a few minutes ago.”
“Let’s time the next few,” said Chloe.
Meg nodded and took two more steps. Then she grabbed her belly and moaned. While she breathed through it, April, Chloe, and the kids returned with candles and lit them. We had a little more light as Meg resumed her walking, heading over toward the tree.
“So if the baby is born on Christmas, he’ll have the same birthday as Jesus!” said Winnie, her face aglow with excitement. “Maybe you can call him that! Jesus McCormick is a cool name.”
“We’re—calling him—Fletcher,” Meg managed. A sweat had broken out on her forehead.
Winnie considered it and shrugged. “That’s cool too.”
“If you don’t make it to the hospital,” said Felicity eagerly, “who will deliver the baby? On TV, people always say, ‘Is there a doctor in the house?’ And then usually, there’s a doctor.” She looked around. “But we don’t have one here.”
“Felicity, hush,” Mack scolded.
“Well, we don’t,” the middle schooler said.
“She’ll make it to the hospital,” April said confidently. “First labors take hours.”
“Meg, honey,” I said in my calmest but most authoritative voice. “I think we should let Mack drive us—”
But just then, she doubled over and groaned in agony.
“Four minutes,” said Chloe, her voice cracking. “That’s—um—that’s close together.”
Alarmed, I wrapped my arms around my wife and made frantic eye contact with Mack.
“I’ll get the car,” he said, already heading for the door.
“No!” Meg shouted, grabbing on to the back of the couch. “No car! The baby is coming too fast!”
“Meg,” Frannie said, panic lacing her voice. “That’s why you need to get to the hospital right away.”
“It’s too late.” Meg gasped, sending a jolt of terror up my spine. “I’m telling you, it’s too late. It’s happening now.”
“Now?” at least four people in the room chorused.
“Call nine-one-one,” I ordered Frannie, recovering my wits. “We need an ambulance.”
“I’ll do it,” said Henry. Within seconds, he was talking to dispatch, explaining the situation and giving the location. After he hung up, he looked at me. “It’s, uh, not a great night to need a quick response. But they’re going to get here as fast as possible.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing myself for insisting that we go out tonight. But I knew EMS would do their best to arrive quickly. “Okay.”
Meg moaned in agony. “Oh God, this pain—the books weren’t lying! I’m not sure I can handle it.”
“Yes, you can.” Sylvia went into oldest sister mode, handing Steffan to Henry before coming over to where Meg clung to the sofa. “Listen, Meg. All the Sawyer sisters have been where you are. We’ve all doubted our ability to do this thing, and that’s because it hurts and it’s hard. But you can do it.”
“Maybe in a hospital I could.” Meg struggled to speak through the pain. “Like, with drugs. Many drugs. But not here.”
“Shhhh,” I said, rubbing her back. “Don’t say that. We’ll get you to the hospital.”
“Noah,” said John quietly. “Maybe we should prepare just in case.”