Heir of Night (The Thorne Hill)

Abby laughs. “Yeah, they get way up there. And you don’t want to know how many women get rushed into the ER because they didn’t think they could go into labor, either, and had their baby in the car.”

“As long as I stay home, I’m fine.”

“There’s no way you can have a hospital birth?” she asks carefully. As a doctor, the thought of a home birth makes Abby cringe.

“I wanted pain meds and all the drugs they’re willing to give me, but we can’t. I’ll be vulnerable during labor, and a demon already figured out the baby has just enough divinity in her to use as the key to open the gates. I’ll be here, with the midwife from our coven to help with the labor and birth, and my friends will be here to cast protection spells.”

“I can come too,” Abby tells me. “I’m not an OB, but I do know a thing or two about medical emergencies, not that I think you’re going to have one.”

Having a house full of people was a hard pill to swallow, and that’s after realizing I was giving up my pain-free labor. I imagined just Lucas and myself in the room, with the doctor and nurse, of course. It was supposed to be quiet and calm, and everything was going to go according to plan. Adding one more person to the roster is the last thing I want, but it’s different with Abby.

“I’d really like it if you could be here. I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little scared since my mom died giving birth to me.”

“Oh,” Abby says and then pauses. She still forgets sometimes that we’re not actually related, and it’s a sore subject for her. “Right. That was different. You have more divinity in you than Juliet does. I really like that name, by the way.”

I smile, feeling a little emotional. “Thanks. Someday she’ll understand how much meaning her name has.”

“She will. That, uh, kind of reminds me,” she starts and then hesitates.

“Yeah?” I refill my glass with water and go into the conservatory. It’s nice and sunny today, making this room warm. I really should have planted something to fill these empty counters with.

“I was at…at my parents,” she says awkwardly, hesitating again. “I was there last weekend and asked Nancy if she had anything of yours from your childhood.”

My heart jumps into my throat. “Does she? I would have thought she burned it all.”

“I did too,” Abby admits, and I hate the guilt in her voice. It’s not her fault. “Which is why I was surprised to know she has a bin full of stuff. I have it, if you want it. She, um, also wants to know if she can send you a baby shower gift. She follows the bookstore on Instagram and knows you’re having a girl.”

“Oh, um…I…I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t need anything from her, nor do I want it.”

“I understand. I wouldn’t, either, if I were in your position.”

“My old stuff, though. Did you happen to look through it?”

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure it was legit before I offered it to you.”

“What’s in it?” I ask eagerly.

“A few photos, the outfit you wore home from the hospital, a pair of baby shoes, a blanket, and some art projects you made in preschool and kindergarten. Dad—William—has no idea she kept it all.”

“The blanket,” I rush out. “Is it a black quilt with stars in each corner?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Tears immediately well in my eyes. “My mom made that,” I whisper, voice tight. “Michael told me she made it by hand as they watched the moonrise together.”

“Oh, Cal. I’m bringing it over for sure. You need it. Juliet needs it.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, annoyed at myself for the constant crying. “It’s the second thing I have from my mother.”

“Do you want me to wash it first? It kind of smells like mothballs from being in storage for so long.”

“As long as you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’m doing laundry now.” I hear her turn her washing machine on. “I’ll add it with the load I’m gonna put in. I’ve always wanted to make Penny a quilt and want to even more now. Something with meaning. Everything she owns has been bought brand-new.”

I sit on a wooden bench in the conservatory and chat with Abby about making something memorable for our daughters. She’s telling me how she attempted to make Penny’s witch costume for Halloween when another cramp slowly rolls in. It’s not painful at first and then makes me grunt out loud. It doesn’t last long, and once it’s gone, I’m back to feeling fine.

“Callie,” Abby says slowly yet is unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “That was just about twenty minutes after your first contraction.”

“It’s just Braxton Hicks, I’m sure. I forgot about my water.” I lean over to pick it up off the wooden counter.