Misconception (Coming Home)

Raven’s eyes soften. I know that look. Having kids is something we’ve always said we wanted. We both also wanted to be married first, but life happens, and you just have to learn to roll with the punches.

“We’re about to order some lunch. You want anything?” Raven asks Bruce.

“Sure, I’ve got some time before I have to get back to the job site. Where are we ordering from?”

The two of them discuss orders, and Raven takes a few steps away to make the call. She doesn’t even have to ask me what I want. I get the same thing every time—a pizza steak hoagie with banana peppers. My mouth practically waters just thinking about it. I’m sure I’ll regret the peppers later today, but it will be worth it.

My bladder has been screaming for the last five minutes. Baby boy has been using my bladder as a pillow for weeks. Who am I kidding? This entire pregnancy, I feel like I’m peeing every twenty minutes.

Bracing my hands on the counter, I move to stand. “Whoa, where are we going, little momma?” Bruce asks.

“I have to pee,” I huff. I know my friends and my sister mean well, but the constant watchful eyes get annoying after a while. Before I know what’s happening, Bruce is beside me. One hand rests on my back while the other takes my arm, helping me stand. I’m annoyed and grateful all at the same time. I’m all baby belly by this point, and it’s hard to maneuver for sure.

As soon as I’m on my feet, I wince at a sharp pain. My hands fly to my belly as I close my eyes and breathe through it.

“Be easy on your momma,” Bruce says, his hand now resting over my own.

Slowly, I peel open my eyes. “That was intense,” I tell him.

He nods. “I could see it on your face.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before another pain comes, and a gush of wetness releases between my thighs. For a second, I think I’ve finally pissed my pants, but the pain tells me this is something different. I grip Bruce’s hand as the pain in my belly intensifies.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Uh, Riles?” Bruce looks as white as a ghost as he stares at the puddle we’re now standing in.

“What’s wrong?” Raven rushes over, phone in hand, still partially placed next to her ear. “Uh, yeah, I’m going to need to cancel that. Family emergency,” she barks into the phone before tapping the screen and shoving it into her back pocket. “Your water broke.” It’s not a question, but I still nod.

“Oh, shit! You’re in labor,” Bruce wheezes, and looking pale.

“Bruce!” Raven shouts, and that seems to pull him out of his shock.

“I need you to turn the sign to closed, lock the door, and drive us to the hospital.”

He nods numbly, taking her orders and jumping into action, as I put my phone to my ear. “Darcey, it’s time. Rally the troops. Bruce is here with us. We’re heading to the hospital.”

“They don’t have to come,” I say, trying to remain calm.

Raven gives me a look that tells me she thinks I’m crazy. “No, we have her bags in her car. Bruce is going to drive us.” A few more words are exchanged before she ends the call. “Ready?” She smiles down at me.

I rub at my baby bump. “I’m ready.”

“Ladies, the car’s ready.” Bruce steps back into the salon, looking much calmer than he did minutes ago.

“What about your appointments?” I ask Raven.

“Already taken care of,” she says, typing on her phone. “I just sent Darcey the client list with phone numbers from our app. She’s going to contact them. Besides, this is a small town, Riles. They all know you’re past due. If they get pissed, I say let them. Family first. Now, let’s get you to the hospital so I can meet my nephew.”

Bruce steps forward and, without a word, lifts me into his arms bridal style. “I can walk, you know. And you’re going to get all nasty,” I say, feeling my face flame with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you to the hospital.” With that, he strolls out to my car. Raven appears, opening the door, and Bruce helps me inside.

Bruce is like a race car driver as he weaves in and out of traffic in town. The hospital is in Jessup. It’s normally a thirty-minute drive, but Bruce gets us there much faster. As instructed by my obstetrician, we shuffle into the emergency room. Bruce insisted he carry me, and I was putting up a fight until a contraction hit, and I doubled over in pain.

“My sister is in labor,” Raven tells the receptionist. “She’s preregistered.”

“Let me grab a wheelchair,” she says, standing and jumping into action. “We’ll take her up to labor and delivery.”