C-Flat to C-Sharp (PR Girls & Instalove 3)

Finishing the second encore, I couldn’t believe how vibrant and attentive tonight’s crowd had been. They’d been singing along with everything, even the brand new songs that we’d only been playing for a few weeks.

Somebody must have posted live concert footage. It was crazy.

I didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but my focus was only partly on the show tonight. Even though this last show of our two week tour was only an hour away from my gorgeous wife, I felt like that was too much distance.

Taking a swig of water just off stage, Skippy, Todd, and Rob all turned to me. “Damn, the crowd is wild tonight,” Skippy laughed. “Should we go out for a third encore?”

Before I could decide, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I could feel the blood draining from my face as my mouth fell open.

“I’m driving,” Rob said, grabbing me by the elbow to propel me toward the side door.

“We’ll take care of the gear, just go, go,” Todd said quickly, as I heard Skippy’s voice booming through the PA system.

“Sorry folks, there can’t be another encore tonight. Our singer just got word that his wife is in labor two and a half weeks early.”

I had never understood my guitarist’s obsession with cars, rhyming off engine sizes and fuel injection systems as if they were baseball stats. Yet I’d never been more thankful for his obsession as I was now, as he tore out of the parking lot and hit the highway as if the devil himself had been chasing us.

Thirty-nine minutes later, I charged into the maternity ward of Memorial Hospital at a dead run. “Where is Corina Taylor-Cooper?”

The receptionist and two nurses laughed right in my face, putting me slightly more at ease.

A nurse in purple scrubs jumped up and took my arm, smiling widely. “She’s fine, daddy. You’re just in time. Your wife is a powerhouse, and everything’s going very smoothly.” Her warm Caribbean accent was instantly comforting.

As she walked me down the corridor, she looked me up and down. “Don’t you look sharp. Out at a party?”

“My band had a show.”

Her twinkling laugh echoed down the hall. “Well, honey, you got over stage fright at some point. Now you can get over new-daddy fright. We’ll take care of you.”

In a flash I was wearing a smock, with my hands scrubbed, as the nurse pushed me into a white room.

Time seemed to speed up and slow down at strange intervals. As Corina obeyed the doctor’s and nurse’s instructions to push and breathe, my only job was to hold her hand and murmur sweet calming things to her.

It all happened so fast, until the second that her eyes locked with mine as she seemed to stop breathing entirely for a full minute, straining for one long, last push.

Then she gasped loudly a half second before I heard a tiny cry. Leaning in to kiss my wife, I was interrupted as a tiny pink twitching ball of pure sweetness was placed on her chest.

As always, Corina’s response was quiet and thoughtful. “Hello, Jacob,” she whispered softly. “Welcome to the world.” I slipped my arm under her shoulders to help her sit up slightly so that she could stare at our child’s round little face.

“Hi, Jacob,” I somehow choked through the enormous lump in my throat.

Reaching out carefully, I placed my hand on my son’s back, marvelling at how strangely fragile his skin felt.

After a few moments, the nurse took the baby away to clean and check him, leaving us with a minute of relative privacy.

“You made it,” she sighed, her eyes still wild with adrenaline.

“This is why I didn’t want to do this tour,” I said. “What if I’d been farther away?”

“But you weren’t.” She gave my hand squeeze. She had insisted that we do the tour anyway, even though I had wanted to overrule her. “Rob didn’t run anyone off the road on the way here, did he?”

“Almost. We should probably never speak of it again.”

She laughed lightly, but it was clear that she was exhausted. After I gave her a few sips of water, the nurse returned the baby to Corina, so that I could hold them both again.

“You’re amazing,” I murmured as Corina’s eyes began to drift closed. “I’m so proud of you, angel.”

“Remind me later to ask all about your show,” she breathed, drifting off.