Jose started laughing before she let out a gasp and doubled over in the chair. Putting the plate back in the box, I ran over and got down on my knees. “What is it?”
The sheriff walked up behind us just as Jose truly scared the shit out of me – well, more shit out of me because the sheriff had taken the lead on that one a couple of minutes ago. “I think the baby’s coming.”
“What? But why? You’re not due for another three days. Why’s it coming now? I don’t have any boiling water. Hell, I don’t even have a bowl unpacked to put it in,” I stammered, trying to remember what I’d heard from movies and read in books. I stuck to just reading fiction too, so did that mean it wasn’t really what you were meant to do? Did they use artistic license with how they dealt with women giving birth too?
“You’re good, fireball,” the sheriff drawled, gently nudging me out of the way to get closer to Jose. “Right, doll. Let’s make sure we’ve got this right. You having pains?” When she nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, he looked down at his watch and kept looking at it as he continued. “We’ll time the space between them so we know how close you are. Just to make sure, have you been feeling them for a while?” When she just shook her head he continued, “Do you think your water has broken?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied, and I felt like a heartless bitch because of the amount of relief I felt hearing that.
I loved that recliner, it had been a bargain in a black Friday sale that had been priced incorrectly. It’s full price was in the region of two-thousand dollars, I’d paid just one-hundred-and-fifty because of a worker in the furniture store who couldn’t read the list he’d been handed correctly. It was comfortable, it looked freaking awesome, and I loved the level of bargain it had been. Then again, women needed to be comfortable when they gave birth, right? So maybe it was a good sacrifice.
Just then Jose groaned and her body tensed, presumably with the next pain, and I shifted so that I could hold her hand and rub her back with my free one.
“That’s roughly three minutes between them, so we should go in,” he announced, getting to his feet and starting to help Jose up.
Three minutes, was he high? It had been about twenty seconds by my count – not that I’d been counting, but still. Didn’t that mean the baby was about to pop out?
“Thanks, Sheriff,” Jose sniffled getting to her feet slowly. “I didn’t expect this to happen today, but I’m glad y’all are here with me for it.”
“Call me Dave, Jose, and don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get to the hospital before it comes.”
I trailed behind them as they took slow steps to the door, Jose looking like her legs were trembling the whole way.
“I think it’s a boy,” she told him, “and my hospital bag’s in the trunk of the car.”
Deciding I was better in front, I scooted around them picking up our purses from where we’d dropped them next to the door, and reached to open it. My hand was just on the handle when there was a loud gasp, followed by the sound of liquid hitting tile behind me.
“Well then, your water’s definitely broken now, hasn’t it?” he chuckled.
He could laugh, it wasn’t his floor or his sister who’d just exploded.
“Tabby, could you get the bag out my car,” Jose asked, voice trembling and tugging at my heartstrings.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw the tears building in her eyes and how pale she was, and I was relieved all over again that I’d found her so she didn’t have to go through this alone. She could have her baby on my recliner, pee on my floor, whatever she needed to do. I was here to help her get through it and do anything to help her out.
That was until two hours later, and then I wished I was outside in the waiting room with earplugs in, still innocent to the labor and birthing process women went through.Two hours later…
“Make it stop, Tab,” Jose sobbed, the chokehold she had on my neck making it almost impossible to breathe as she cried on my shoulder. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Taking in a gulping breath, I rubbed her back slowly and tried to make comforting noises, but they all just seemed to come out sounding like a choking crow.
“You’re ok, Jose,” her OB/GYN, Glynnis, hummed from where she was at the bottom of the bed. “I know it’s hard and exhausting, and I know you’ve been through a lot recently, but you’re almost there.”
This could be looked at as one of the downsides of living in a small town – everyone knew your business. As it was, on this occasion I was looking at it as a good thing because Jose hadn’t had to explain what had happened with the rat bastard to anyone, and it also seemed like the staff had taken a bit of extra care with her since we’d arrived.