Infinity. (Infinity Series) (3 page)

It must work, because he changes the subject. “How was the douchebag this morning?”

Their terms of endearment for each other no longer faze me. “Quiet. Reflective. He’s ready for the parade to be over, and everyone to leave town. He begged me to stay in bed all day with him tomorrow.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. But, I told him I had to go to the hospital to check on patients,” I say with a wink. “I can’t let him have his way that easily.”

Aiden laughs and shakes his head.

God.
Another Braxton Hicks contraction hits me, and it takes all of my strength to not double over. I wince, grab on to the balcony railing, and clench my jaw, waiting for it to pass.

“You okay, Caroline?” Aiden asks.

“Yeah. I just need to sit down,” I reply as I gingerly walk to the chair that Brad brought out for me.

The crowd erupts in loud cheers as the first of the police cars, with sirens blaring, come into sight, announcing that the parade will be here shortly.

Marley claps her hands and excitedly rushes to the balcony railing for a better view. Janis put her hair in two ponytails that look like pompoms. She’s wearing Colin’s jersey. Cute is an understatement. She’s precious!

Colin and Big Bertha are at the rear of the parade so I settle in knowing that it’s going to be awhile. Brad brings me a glass of water that I slowly begin sipping.

As the first fire truck passes us, an odd feeling washes over me. Not bad. Just odd. There’s no better way to explain it. I take another sip of water, hoping that it’ll help settle me. I reach up and touch my infinity necklace that Colin gave me the day after we reconciled in Los Angeles. The infinity symbol is an eight, which is Colin’s football number, turned on its side. The necklace has remained on my neck without being removed since that day. It’s my talisman, and brings me unbelievable reassurance. I need that right now.

Then, another Braxton Hicks contraction hits me. It literally takes my breath away. I grasp my stomach, saying a silent prayer that my muscles will relax quickly. I try to mask how intense it is, but Janis catches the grimace on my face. “You okay?”

“These practice contractions,” I say putting air parenthesis around practice, “are killing me today.”

“You sure they’re practice?”

“Yeah. I was examined yesterday when we arrived home from Miami. I’m not even dilated,” I reply through my grimace.

Our conversation is cut short when a high school marching-band drowns out our voices. Next, the first float of players pass under us, and confetti rains from the sky. Our balconies go crazy, yelling and waving at the boys. When they spot so many friendly faces in one place they begin acting extra silly. There are huge smiles, and lots of whoops and cheers and waves. A couple of the players spot me in my promised garb, and point and smile. It makes this ridiculous get-up worth it.

This is so amazing. The roar of the crowd is deafening. Colin and the boys have made this crowd—hell, this city—go this crazy. I love it. My heart floods with pride for my man.

Almost simultaneously, another contraction hits me, and makes it impossible for my lungs to expand. I put my head between my knees and beg the pain to let up.

Then it dawns on me. I know what this is. My previous Braxton Hicks contractions never felt like this. This is the early stage of labor.
Oh, God! I can’t have this baby yet. Its daddy is in the bed of his truck in the middle of a parade.
I have a mental talk with my body and this baby. I’m not leaving the parade early. My husband will see me in this ugly-ass number-eight Dallas Cowboy’s jersey dress that I promised to wear as part of our marriage vows. He will see me clapping and cheering for him. He’ll know I’m here, and I’m fine, because he’s not leaving his victory parade early for me or for this baby.

I also reason that I’m a first-time mom, and our labor will take a notoriously long time. I’m fine.

I stand up when I see Big Bertha in the distance, and mentally say a thank-you prayer to God for not letting her break down. She’s still chugging along, polluting the environment with everything that she’s got.

The crowd noise reaches a deafening pitch, making my ears ring as Colin and the old girl pass by them. I can barely see my husband through all the confetti, turning and waving to his adoring public. I know exactly when he spots the hotel though, because he begins to ignore the crowd and search for me. He holds a hand up to his forehead, blocking out the sun as he scans the balconies. I watch his gorgeous wavy dark-blonde hair catch the light. He takes my breath away.
See, baby? That’s your daddy. The one that everyone is yelling for.
I make it easy on him, and stand up waving both of my arms like a raving lunatic.

When his sparkling green eyes spot me, he points in my direction, or should I say at my dress, and gives me a thumbs up. His gorgeous half-smile, which is all mine, cocks his right cheek up. Wearing the dress and boots were worth it. Seeing the happiness on his face floods me with love. I touch my infinity necklace hoping that he gets my hidden message that I love him.

He places his left hand over his heart showing me the engagement/wedding ring with our secret meaning.

I want to scream to the world, “See that man right there? He loves me. Colin fucking McKinney is in love with me.” What an amazing feeling.

Just then, another contraction hits me. It takes everything in my power to not double over, but I don’t. By God, I’ll give him no reason to question if I’m okay.

I force a smile on my face and cup my belly, which makes his smile even larger, if that’s possible. Next he points and waves at his parents, and then he finds Aiden and very discreetly flips him off while he pretends to scratch his nose.

Once Big Bertha has passed us, I sit back down, so grateful for the chair. I decide to time my contractions and see how far apart they are. The bands are going to play while the players get unloaded from the floats and make their way to the stage. Colin is going to be one of the last to speak. He hasn’t let me read his speech, and I’m dying to hear it.

Another contraction hits me as I suck in a huge gulp of air and squint my eyes. My muscles begin to relax as the tightness in my abdomen loosens up.

Chelsea stares at me with wide eyes. “What’s up? You look green.”

“Thanks,” I reply tartly. “You need to pluck your eyebrows.” Fortunately, my sister’s vain enough to worry about her unibrow and forget about me for a few minutes.

I settle back in my chair and note the time. Just when I’ve convinced myself that I was wrong and these are just Braxton Hicks contractions, it hits me—a contraction mixed with the worse stomach cramp that I’ve ever felt. I stand up and make my way towards the hotel room’s bathroom. I need a moment of privacy, because there is definitely something going on that’s making me feel funny.

I’m waddling as fast as I can when I feel a pop. Seconds later, a huge gush of water begins flowing out of me, soaking the carpet, my boots, and well, everything. There’s no sticking my head in the sand any longer. My bag of amniotic fluid just broke. I’m having our baby in the next twenty-four hours, celebration party or not.

I stand there like a moron.

In residency, I had to do a rotation in labor and delivery. I’ve watched women’s water break, and I’ve had to break the bag of fluid myself. I know scientifically what’s going on. However, that doesn’t diminish my panic one bit.

“Brad,” I scream, but he can’t hear me over the crowd noise. I’m paralyzed, and scared to death. I keep staring down at my soaked dress, boots, and the green-fern carpet. I want Colin. He’d have picked me up and carried me to the car by now. We’d be on the way to the hospital while I was yelling at him to slow down. Then, I’d be repeating my mantra: first-time mother’s babies are notoriously slow. It’ll probably be tomorrow before the child comes.

Instead, another contraction hits me, and I reach out for the chest of drawers next to me to steady myself. Once I can breathe again, I yell louder for Brad. When his auburn hair turns, and I see his face, I want to cry. I instantly know that he’ll take care of me. He’ll know what to do.

Brad comes rushing to me with his eyes bugging out of his head. When he’s close enough to hear me, I burst into tears. “My water broke.”

Brad immediately goes into nurse mode. He grabs his phone and calls my doctor who Colin made him put in his favorite’s list. While the phone is ringing he yells for Jenny, which causes everyone to turn around.

Jenny and the rest of the gang immediately recognize what has just happened. Janis ushers Marley past me and out of the room while she keeps asking what’s wrong with Auntie Charlie. Liza takes my hand, unparalyzing me, and leads me to the bathroom. “It’s okay, Caroline,” she says over and over as she helps me walk. “You’re going to be just fine.”

Jenny rushes ahead of us and grabs some towels out of the bathroom to throw over my mess, while Chelsea claps and squeals, “We’re having a baby.”

I put the lid down on the toilet seat and begin removing my soiled clothes while my dear friend Liza helps me out of my soaked boots. I can’t believe this is happening. My friend is touching my amniotic-soaked clothing. This is so humiliating.

She must read my face because she says, “I’ve removed puke and come-drenched jeans from rockers. I’ve had to cut clients out of leather pants that they’ve worn eight days straight without even bothering to take a shower. It’s a hazard of my profession.” She shrugs. “At least this is sanitary.” And just for that fantastic answer, if this baby is a girl, she’ll be named after Liza.

I’m sitting on the toilet lid in only my skin-colored maternity bra that supports my now huge hormone-induced triple Ds when Jenny, Brad, Chelsea, and Janis join us. Fortunately my giant protruding stomach hides my girl parts, so there’s really nothing to see other than a semi-nude pregnant chick, but I still lean forward just to give myself an ounce more dignity, and grab for an unused hand towel nearby. Now, at least I feel like I’m attempting to be modest.

Liza pulls out the clothes that I had stuffed into my tote. I wish that I had folded them nicely. She hands me my creased sweater first. I slip it over my head, so grateful for something soft against my hyperaware skin.

“Doctor Starr’s going to meet us at the hospital. I’ve called Carter and Miguel. They’re bringing the car into the parking garage. She said that there’s no need to rush because first-time mother’s babies are notoriously slow,” Brad informs me. Somehow, hearing him say the words that I’ve been saying in my head out loud gives me much more reassurance. I also like that he said the word
notorious
. Yes. They’re notoriously slow.

Jenny looks at me and says, “You want to call him, or you want me to do it?”

“No one’s calling Colin, yet. As a medical doctor and Doctor Starr just confirmed, first-time mother’s babies are notoriously slow.” I reinforce
notoriously
. “After Colin makes his speech, then you can tell him.” I say looking all of them in their eyes—especially Jenny.

In the almost two years that I’ve known her, I didn’t think that it was possible to shock her. However, I just did. “You’re not telling Colin, Caroline?” she says, shaking her Cowboy-blue hair as her eyes grow wide. She reaches out and grabs the doorjamb as if she needs the support.

“That’s what I said.” I really wish that I could stand so I could be in more of a position of power, but my unwaxed bits might cause Brad to pass out. “Colin will make it in plenty of time. We’re fine.”

Jenny bends so we’re on eye level, and begins talking to me as if I’m an errant child. “If you have that baby and Colin’s not there, he’ll never forgive you, Caroline. I mean, like, resent you his whole life. All that man’s wanted since I started working for him was to be a dad. Don’t deny him his moment.”

Talk about a knife to the heart. “Fine. Let me clean myself up. In private,” I add, “and I’ll think about it.”

Another contraction hits as the last person shuts the bathroom door. The pain is so intense that it makes me nauseous. I fly to my feet quicker than I thought possible, and turn around just in time to throw open the toilet lid. There’s a part of me that believes that my upset stomach has more to do with my decision not to tell Colin than my labor contraction. My nerves are shot. I don’t want to pull Colin away from one of the most important events in his life to sit at my bedside for another eighteen hours while I’m in labor. On the other hand, Jenny’s right. If Colin’s not there for the birth of his child, it’ll kill him.

After the contraction releases, I stand up, bracing myself against the sink counter while I rinse my mouth out. I take a long stare at myself in the mirror. This was not part of our perfect birth plan. The perfect birth plan states that I should go into labor after all the hoopla of the Super Bowl has settled down. Colin and I’ll drive to the hospital together while we listen to George Strait, and other music that we mutually can agree on. My hospital bag, which is at home, has been packed since last week. It’s got a beautiful pair of pajamas for me to put on after the baby’s born, and both a blue and pink blanket. There’s also a coming-home outfit in both colors. I’m going to attempt natural, drug-free childbirth until Colin can’t take my agony any longer and then, and only then, will I allow drugs. It dawns on me. I don’t even have a baby car-seat, for God’s sake.

Yet, here I stand, wetting a towel to wipe amniotic fluid off my legs while my mouth tastes like ass because I vomited up my breakfast while trying to decide if I tell the baby-daddy that he’s about to be a father.

I look down at my stomach and have a heart-to-heart with Baby McKinney. “Look, kid. I know that your mom and dad have passed on the unconventional, warp-speed relationship genes. It was a risk we took when we conceived you, but there’s not been a baby on this earth as wanted as you. You’ve got to stay put for a little while longer, because your daddy will murder your mommy if you’re born before he gets there.” In middle of my little speech I have another contraction. It’s almost as if this kid already has my personality.