“Willow?”
“Nicholas. I need you. My water broke.”
“Fuck!”
“I’m sorry for making you leave.” I sniffled and dabbed my eyes with a towel. “You should have been here. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I’m coming. Are you hurting?” Something crashed in the background, his breathing heavy.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m running to the car. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Can you wait that long? I can call an ambulance or the police or the fire department.”
“No. Don’t do that. I can wait.” I felt better that he was being crazier than me. Another contraction hit me then, and I groaned into the phone.
“Willow? What is it? Fuck!” A door slammed and he yelled at John. “I’m on my way. We’ll be there soon.”
I clenched my teeth and gripped the counter with my other hand. Courtney and Lory were still trying to get me dried off. I handed the phone to Clara when it was time to put on clothes.
“Yes. Yes. She’s okay.” Clara sounded calm and put together as she spoke to him. “They’re about ten minutes apart right now. She’s getting dressed.” She chuckled. “I’m not laughing at you. Well … maybe a little. Yes, call her. We’ll meet you at the front door.”
She rolled her eyes and smiled at me after ending the call. “He’s a little excited.”
“Is he calling Dr. Whitney?”
She nodded and moved to pull my hair back into a ponytail. “Yes. It will all be taken care of, so take a deep breath and try to relax.”
Relax? A human being was about to come out of me. I couldn’t relax.
Laura stayed behind to take care of the cleanup, while the rest of them took turns shuffling me toward the front door and getting dressed themselves. I made it to the foyer and into another chair without any further incident.
In fact, I was almost calm until the door burst open and a wild-eyed and frantic Nicholas ran in. He made a beeline straight for me, kneeling down on the floor and putting his hands on my belly.
“Are you okay?” His hair was sticking up in all directions and I patted it down.
“I’m fine. Did you get a hold of Dr. Whitney?”
“Yes. She’s going to get you right in. Are you ready?”
Was I ready? I had to be. It wasn’t like I could turn back now. I could do this.
I nod at him, smiling at the thought of our child being born very soon. “I’m ready.”
He stood, leaned down, and kissed me. “I love you.”
I put my arms around his neck, holding him tight and smelling his skin before kissing him back. “I love you more.”
It was one of those moments I wanted to freeze frame and keep locked in my memory forever. That brink of an edge where everything was wonderful and you knew your life was about to change in the best of ways.
Then another contraction hit, and I was cursing Nicholas and his sperm. He had me in his arms and inside the car in a flash, the others piling in behind us.
“Squeeze my hand if it hurts. Breathe with me.” Nicholas was holding me close, murmuring in my ear while the car zoomed through traffic.
“Where’s your father?” Clara asked him. He shrugged.
“I don’t know. Probably in a cab somewhere. I ran and didn’t wait for them to catch up.”
I giggled a little at Clara, who shook her head and pulled out her phone to call Jefferson. Then I remembered where he had been and turned to face him.
“What happened? What did they say?”
“She’s out of our lives now.”
“What does that mean?”
His eyes hardened and he frowned. “Let’s concentrate on this now. I don’t want you thinking about that nonsense.”
I huffed. “Just tell me.”
He looked around at everyone before meeting my gaze again. “Okay. They’re pleading her out. Evidently, Simon talked her out of going to trial, wanting to avoid the media circus it would be. She’s agreed to plead guilty to first-degree assault in exchange for a decreased prison sentence.”
I knew they could have gone up to twenty-five years if she had been found guilty by a jury. But I couldn’t deny the idea of not having to testify at a trial was very appealing to me.
“How many years?”
“Ten.”
I rubbed my stomach and got lost in my thoughts, while Clara ranted about it not being enough and how it could end up being even shorter with good behavior. Part of me was relieved it was over. Rosemary would be put away, and in the end, neither I nor our baby were irreparably harmed. But another part of me didn’t think ten years was enough justice served for her crime.
I leaned against Nicholas and tried to focus on the good part. She would be behind bars and she couldn’t touch me. Couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t touch our child.
The mood of the car was dampened somewhat by the news, but it wasn’t long before we were pulling up in front of the hospital and Rosemary was forgotten.
Jefferson was standing there with a smile and a wheelchair when Nicholas helped me out of the car.
“Thank you,” I said as I sat down.
He kissed my cheek and handed the reins over to Nicholas, wishing us luck.
Dr. Whitney wasn’t kidding when she said she’d get me right in. In fact, it took barely any time at all before I was in a gown, lying in a bed, and hooked to monitors and an IV. She came into the room soon after, her smile bright.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rowe. It seems Baby Rowe can’t wait to get out and see you both.”
She was poking around between my legs before our responding greetings were out of our mouths. One thing I’d come to realize during my pregnancy was that modesty had to be thrown out the window. It seemed there was constantly someone looking or feeling around at my lady parts.