Moonstone: Gems of Wolfe Island One

“He’ll hit traffic,” I say. “The ambulance will get here first.”

Zee chuckles. “You don’t know Reid Wolfe.”

She’s right. I don’t. But I know a lot of people like Reid Wolfe. They may think they control everything, but no one controls Manhattan traffic.

“Can I get you anything?” Lois asks. “Water?”

“No, thank you,” Zee says. “Unless you have a change of clothes for me.”

“We may have something.”

“Goodness, I was kidding. I hate that I’m ruining everything I sit on.”

“It’s just amniotic fluid,” Katelyn says.

Which is mostly urine. I don’t enlighten them with this fact, though. Not the time. They’d just wonder how I know.

“I need to get back to my tables,” I say. “Let me know if you need anything, Lois.”

Lois nods with a weak smile. “I will. Thank you, Luke. You’ve been a big help.

I’m not sure I’ve done much, but I walk backward, toward the door, unable to take my eyes off Katelyn. I don’t want to leave her, and I sure as hell don’t want to have this feeling.

Feelings like this were what got me into trouble, and I can’t relive that.

Finally I make it to the door and take a quick trip to the restroom to wash my hands, just in case I got any pee—er….amniotic fluid—on them.

Then back to work.

Two of my orders are up, and Travis is taking care of them for me. I owe him one. I check in with all my customers, fill a few water glasses for the busboy, and then look back toward the door to the staff lounge.

Should I warn anyone that an ambulance is on its way? That any minute now, paramedics are going to rush in wielding a stretcher for Reid Wolfe’s wife?

The soft music drifting through the room stops.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” comes Lois’s voice. “I’m sorry to disturb your dinner, but I want to let you know that one of our diners has gone into labor. An ambulance will be arriving soon, and we’ll do our best not to disrupt your meals. You’ll all be receiving ten percent off your dinner checks tonight.”

Collective oohs and ahs drift through the restaurant.

Lois is a good manager. She just made all her customers happy with a mere mention of a small discount.

She also just cost me ten percent of my tips. Most customers forget that they’re supposed to tip on the full price of the meal.

Oh, well.

Not like I need the money, but Travis and the others will feel it.

Not my problem.

Funny, I don’t say that nearly as much as I used to. Now I feel like it is my problem. These people are my friends. I should’ve given the table to Travis when he asked for it. Normally, I would have. I don’t care about tips.

But I didn’t want to lose out on meeting Katelyn.

And now?

Katelyn’s leaving, and neither Travis nor I will get the tip from the table.

Fuck it all.

5

Katelyn

“Can I do anything?” I ask Zee.

“No. I’m sorry about this. I’ll call a cab to take you home.”

“I can take care of that myself. You just concentrate on labor.”

“It’s not labor. Not yet anyway. I haven’t had a contraction since that one at the table and that was…how long ago?”

I check my phone. “Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Here.” She hands me her phone. “See what time I texted Reid.

I take a look. “Zee?”

“Yeah?”

“You wrote out the text, but you didn’t hit send.”

She gasps. “What?”

“See?” I show her. “So I have no idea what time it was, and Reid doesn’t know you’re in labor.”

“Damn! Pregnancy brain. It’s a thing. Can you send it, please?

“Of course.” I hit send. “We still don’t know how long ago you had that first contraction.”

“Find Luke. See what time he called 911. That’ll give us our best clue.”

“O…kay. But I’m not sure I should leave you.”

“I’m fine. The paramedics are on the way, and I’m going to have to be able to tell them how far apart the contractions are. Right now, I can’t do that.”

“Got it. I’ll find him.”

I leave the lounge, glancing back at Zee. She seems comfortable enough. Still, I don’t feel right leaving her.

Or am I just fearing talking to a man I find attractive?

I stopped looking at men that way long ago. Sure, some of the men who came to Treasure Island were attractive—but they also came to hunt women. To fuck women. To treat women like disposable objects.

So their physical attractiveness became repugnant. They were all repugnant, no matter what they looked like.

Then there was…

I lean against the wall between the door to the staff lounge and door to the men’s restroom.

And images flash before me.

It’s my first night on display.

That’s what they call it. I fought as hard as I could, but I’m still here. On display.

The pain in my shoulders has finally subsided, all my bruises have faded.