My eyes widen. “Its too early.”
Bridget gasps and then bends to my stomach and points at it. “Naughty baby, stay in there. You are not cooked yet.”
“Stop calling my baby naughty,” I warn her as I slap her over the back of the head as she bends down.
“Well, he is,” she says.
I hold my hands up in horror. “Get Joshua. Get Joshua… now.”
Cameron looks at his watch. “There is only seven minutes left in the game, if you pull him off the paps will be onto you and you will be hounded all the way to the hospital.”
“True,” Bridget answers.
My phone beeps a text and I read it out. Its Max again.
Swap pants with Bridget to get to the car.
Bridget’s face drops. “Ewww, I’m not wearing your amniotic festy fucking pants.”
I start to rip my jeans down and Cameron frowns at the show that is unfolding. “Please, Bridget,” I beg.
“Oh my God,” she grumbles, mortified. “Cameron, do something,” she whispers.
“I don’t fit into her fucking jeans,” he replies.
Another text comes through from Max.
Right, at the door
And I hear the cars engine. I pull my pants back up. “Let’s make a run for it.”
We come out of the cubicle. Cameron grabs my hand and we burst out of the bathroom into the open car door that Max is holding for me. He slams the door shut. “Oh, God, what if they got a shot of my wet pants,” I cry to Cameron.
“Joshua will sue,” he mutters, distracted. Max gets in the front seat and Bridget jumps in next to him.
We drive back around to the other side of the venue to where Joshua is just coming off the field. Cameron jumps out of the car and runs over to him, Joshua listens and then his eyes look up to me in the car. I see a flicker of anxiety as he tries to act calm and nods. He holds up a finger to me. Then he walks Jasper to his strapper, says something, and then comes back over to the car, jumping in the back.
“Its too early,” he pants. Cameron jumps in the other side of him.
I nod. “I know, it’s not due for another month.”
Max dials the other security.
“Where to?” The guard asks casually.
“L. A. Memorial Hospital.”
I sit nervously in the back seat of the car with Joshua’s hand on my leg. Bridget sporadically looks back to check on me, while Cameron is on his phone looking something up. I think he’s Googling what development stage the baby will be at. I close my eyes. It isn’t time. I’m not ready, I don’t even have my hospital bag packed.
I take out my phone to text Mum and Abbie.
Disaster.