To the Nines (Stephanie Plum 9) - Page 77
“I've never had a baby before,” Albert said. “I'm a little flub-?a-?dubbed.”
“I'm having another contraction,” Valerie said. “Is anyone timing? Aren't these coming awful close together?”
I didn't know anything about having a baby, but I knew it worked better if you delivered it in the hospital. “Maybe we should go to St. Francis,” I said. “Do you have a suitcase ready?”
Valerie went into the breathing and rubbing mode again and my mom ran upstairs for the suitcase.
“So what do you think, Valerie,” I asked when she stopped rubbing and puffing. “You've done this before. Are you ready to go to the hospital?”
“I was ready weeks ago,” Valerie said. “Someone help me get up.”
Albert and I each took an arm and pulled Valerie up.
She looked down. “I can't see my feet. Do I have shoes on?”
“Yep,” I said. “Sneakers.”
She felt around. “And I've got pants on, right?”
“Black stretchy shorts.” Stretched to within an inch of their lives.
My mother came down the stairs with the overnight bag. “Are you sure you don't want to get married?” she asked Valerie. “I could call Father Gabriel. He could meet you at the hospital. People get married in the hospital all the time.”
“Contraction!” Valerie said, huffing and puffing, holding Kloughn s hand in a death grip.
Kloughn went down to one knee. “Yow! You're breaking my hand!”
Valerie kept huffing.
“Okay,” Kloughn said. “Okay, okay. It's not so bad now that the hand's gone numb. Besides, I got another one, right? And probably this one's not actually broken. It's just mashed. It'll be fine, right? Mashed isn't so bad. Mashed. Squished. Smushed. That's all okay. That's not like broken, right?”
The contraction passed and we propelled Valerie out the door, down the sidewalk to the driveway. While the rest of us were flub-?a-?dubbed, my father had slipped outside and started the car. Sometimes my father knocks me out. On the surface he's all meat and potatoes and television, but the truth is, he doesn't miss much.
We put Valerie in the front seat. Albert, my mom, and I got in the backseat. Grandma and the girls stayed behind, waving. The trip was only several blocks long. St. Francis was walking distance from my parents' house, if you wanted to take a good long walk. I called Morelli from the car and told him I wouldn't be home for dinner. Morelli said that was cool since there didn't seem to be any dinner anyway.
Even with our combined abilities, Morelli and I as a single entity didn't equal a bad housewife. Bob ate regularly because we scooped his food out of a big bag. After that it was all downhill to take-?out.
Albert and I walked Valerie in through the emergency entrance and my mom and dad took off to park the car.
A nurse came forward. “Omigod!” she said. “Valerie Plum? I haven't seen you in years. It's Julie Singer. I'm Julie Wisneski now.”
Valerie blinked at her. “You married Whiskey? I had a big crush on him when I was in high school.”
This caught me by surprise. I was just a couple years behind Valerie, but I had no idea she'd had a crush on Whiskey. Whiskey was drop-?dead cute but not a lot upstairs. If you talked cars with Whiskey you were on solid ground. Any topic other than cars, furgeddaboudit. Last I heard he was working in a garage in Ewing. Probably happy as a clam at high tide.
“Big contraction,” Valerie said, her face turning red, her hands on her belly.
“So what do you think?” I asked Julie. “I don't know a lot about this stuff, but she looks like she's going to have a baby, right?”
“Yeah,” Julie said. “Either that or forty-?two puppies. What have you been feeding her?”
“Everything.”
My mom and dad hustled in and went to Valerie.
“Julie Wisneski!” my mom said. “I didn't know you were working here.”
“Two years now,” Julie said. “I moved from Helene Field.”
Source: readsnovelonline.net