Perfectly Unpredictable (6 page)

“Yes, love?”

“I think my water just broke.”

Krista leaned back in the visitor’s chair, holding
the little bundle swathed in blue. Only the tiny face was visible.

Kalia sat on the edge of the hospital bed,
dressed and waiting impatiently for permission to go home. “Why is it that it
takes longer to be discharged than it does to deliver a baby?”

“I think most women spend longer than four
hours in labor,” Krista said with a wince. “I really didn’t think you were
going to make it to the delivery room.”

After Kalia’s water broke, things had
happened pretty quickly. By the time they’d started timing the contractions, they’d
gone from five minutes apart to two. Krista’s mantra during the twenty-minute
drive to the hospital became “Don’t you dare deliver in the car.” Kalia had
been more than happy to oblige, but had pointed out that it might not be within
her control. Luckily, they had made it to the hospital, and shortly after the
obstetrical nurse examined Kalia, Dr. Finn had arrived to deliver the baby.

A boy. Six pounds seven ounces. Twenty-three
inches long. Absolutely perfect in every way.

“Have you considered what you’re going to
name him?” Krista asked, eyeing the bassinet labeled Baby Boy Beck.

“I’ve thought about it,” Kalia mused. “It’s
really hard to find a name that doesn’t conjure up the image of a boy I once
knew and don’t want to be reminded of. My brother was named after my dad, and
he’ll probably want to pass that name onto his son, when the time comes. I was
thinking of naming him after my mom.”

“You want to name your son Geneviève?”

“No.” Kalia smiled. “Her maiden name is
Mani. I was thinking of calling him Mani. What do you think?”

Krista looked at the little bundle she was
holding. “I like it. And I bet your mom will love the idea.”

“I was thinking of Alexandre for his middle
name. He looks like Alexandre,” Kalia said quietly, her eyes watering.

Alexandre
was pale, bald, wrinkled, and smelly?
Probably not
what Kalia meant. She rested her hand on Kalia’s shoulder and squeezed.

Krista had had a moment during the labor
and delivery. Sure, it was hard on the mother, but the partner watching? Oh. My.
God. She had felt absolutely helpless. The one she loved had been in pain,
significant pain. Blood had been everywhere. She could not believe the size of
the baby after it slithered out. To think it was curled up inside of Kalia. Krista
wondered why anyone would have a second child. Going through one birth was
enough to last her a lifetime, thank you very much. And she wasn’t the one in
stirrups.

“Here, give him to me and I’ll change him,”
Kalia said, holding out her arms.

Krista handed her the baby, and Kalia hugged
him close. Her decision to have him had been so absolutely right.

Her love for this tiny being was so huge. A
baby boy. He was so adorable. Tiny fingers that didn’t even wrap all the way
around her finger. Tiny toes. The cutest little ears and a button nose. Just
the scantest amount of fine dark hair.

The pediatrician had already been in that
morning. He had given the okay for the baby to go home and had transferred the
well-baby care to Dr. MacMillan. They were just waiting on Dr. Finn.

Kalia unwrapped the blanket and focused on
changing him, fumbling a little as she fit the tiny diaper around his waist. She
set aside the little hospital gown and pulled out the pale yellow sleeper she had
brought for the trip home. Mani looked at her with sleepy eyes as she slipped
it on him and zipped it up. Wrapping him snuggly back in the blanket, she eyed
the car seat, wondering how it was going to work.

At a knock on the door, Kalia looked up.
Dr. Mikaela Finn walked in with Dr. Margo MacMillan close behind.

“Hi, Kalia, Krista.” Mikaela smiled at them
both. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Oh, I’m the one who should apologize,”
Margo said with a wince. “She was waiting for me to pick her up. I had car
trouble and had to borrow my husband’s car. It needed gas, and he had his ball hockey
gear taking up most of the back seat. And then, to top it off,” she said, her
voice escalating, “I ended up behind a green van.”

Mikaela chuckled and winked. “Don’t get her
started on green vans. I think we made up some time in Trace’s ’Vette, though,”
she said, tongue-in-cheek. “Until we got stopped for the speeding ticket.”

Margo looked sheepish. “Don’t tell Trace.
I’m always bugging him about going too slow.”

Mikaela laughed and bumped her shoulder.
“My lips are sealed.” She peered at the bundle in Kalia’s arms. “He looks
content. Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes. Not that I don’t like it here,” Kalia
said. “But I can’t wait to get home.”

“I’ve felt that way on occasion, too,”
Mikaela said with a wide smile. “Do you have any questions?”

“Not really. The pediatrician came by and
examined the baby and said he was healthy. I’m a bit sore, but I assume that’s
natural.”

“Yes. You can use an ice pack or soak in a
sitz bath to help. It should settle in a day or two. How’s the breastfeeding
going?”

“The nurse was in earlier to help me. I
don’t think my milk is in yet, but he seems to latch on well.”

“Good.” Mikaela nodded. “It may take a few
days. I’ll arrange a home visit with a nurse in the next couple of days to make
sure it’s coming along. And I’d like to see you again in the office in six
weeks for a check-up.”

Kalia nodded and stroked Mani’s cheek.

“It’s normal to feel a little overwhelmed,
Kalia,” added Margo. “You’re recovering and the baby’s settling. If you have
any concerns, give my office a call. I’d like to see him again in two weeks. We
can weigh him and make sure everything is on track.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for everything. Both
of you.”

“You’re welcome. He’s a beautiful baby.
Enjoy.” Mikaela and Margo said their good-byes and left the room.

“Okay, I guess we’re set to go,” Kalia said
to Krista, taking a deep breath.

Kalia set the sleeping baby in the car
seat, adjusted the straps to suit his tiny frame, and clicked him in securely. She
handed him to Krista and grabbed her overnight bag. “I hope he sleeps until we
get home.”

Krista brought the car around, and they
snapped and belted the car seat in place. Kalia got in beside the baby in the
back seat, and Krista drove. As they pulled out of the hospital parking lot,
the baby opened his eyes and started to whimper.

By the time they arrived home, Mani was
screaming at the top of his lungs. His little face was red and the cries
continuous.

“Well, we know his lungs are fine,” Krista
said, covering one ear with her hand. “What is wrong with him?”

“I think he’s hungry,” Kalia replied,
biting her lip. “I should have fed him before we left, but I thought we could
make it home. Hold on little fella,” Kalia crooned, rubbing Mani’s chest and
hands. “We’re almost home.”

“Holy cow. For a little guy he sure makes a
lot of noise,” Krista said as she pulled into the driveway.

As soon as the car stopped, Kalia unbuckled
her own seat belt, unfastened the baby’s, and lifted the car seat out. The cries
subsided as she hurried into the house, threw off her jacket, and undid the
straps holding him in. He’s so light, she thought, as she lifted him, carefully
supporting his head, and took him up to the nursery.

She cuddled him and, lifting her blouse,
brought him to her breast. She laughed as he sucked furiously. “Well, that was
obviously what you were after. We’ll be quicker about it next time, little
one.” She watched his eyes flutter closed as he continued to suck until that
too, slowed down. She lifted him to pat him on the back and burp him, and then
put him to the other breast. He latched on, and his little cheeks worked
furiously as he sucked away.

“Not sure if you’re getting anything, but
it seems to soothe you,” Kalia said as she stroked the top of his head.

She leaned back to relax. She was so happy
to be home again and felt lucky and blessed that her hospital stay had been
short.

Slowly Mani stopped sucking and let go of
the breast as he fell softly into sleep. The quiet was startling after that
miserable ride home.

Note to self: do not get into a car with a
hungry baby,
she thought
.
You cannot breastfeed a baby in a car
seat.

Kalia gently burped him one more time and
then carried him over to the twin bed and laid down, keeping Mani on her chest.
She wasn’t quite ready to set him in the crib on his own. She wanted to hold
him close a little bit longer. Such a warm little bundle. She threw a blanket
over them both and drifted off to sleep.

Krista finished unloading the car. She took
off her coat and headed to the nursery, curious now that it was quiet. She took
one look at Kalia’s exhausted face and the tiny baby cuddled contentedly on her
chest.

It was a lot of trouble. She hoped Kalia
didn’t regret it. The thought of changing diapers grossed her out, but she
could make it easier for Kalia by cooking the meals, looking after the laundry,
and keeping the house tidy. Kalia would shoulder the brunt of looking after
Mani while she was breastfeeding, but Krista could keep house.

Krista closed the door quietly and headed
to the kitchen. When they woke up, Kalia was probably going to be hungry.

Mack Challen unlocked the front door of his
house. He stepped inside, flicked on the light in the front hall, and dropped
his bag on the floor. He was exhausted after the tour.

Six weeks on the road with a sold-out concert
almost every other night in a different city had taken its toll. Their fourth
CD had hit the sweet spot – they were riding a wave of popularity across
North America. It was crazy to hear Shades songs on the radio and even crazier
now that they were played with startling frequency. But sleeping every night on
the converted bus in a small bunk with little privacy had quickly lost its
appeal.

A shower to wash away the grit of travel
and then sleep was all he wanted. Continuous, uninterrupted sleep, in a king-size
bed, in a dark, quiet room. Alone.

He swayed with fatigue. Maybe he would skip
the shower. But then he caught a whiff of himself. Maybe not. Quick shower,
long sleep.

It hadn’t always been an easy ride, and the
band members had changed three times, but the current group had gelled and
rocked it. As the lead guitarist, he shared the bus with the bass guitarist,
the drummer, and the lead singer. He didn’t know how bigger bands did it
– agreeing to gigs, terms, songs, details, even where to eat every night was
hard enough with four. But they managed, barely. If the tour had been any
longer than six weeks, they would have risked killing each other. A little time
apart was going to be healthy.

He picked up his bag and eyed all the mail
on the tile floor just inside the door. He was away enough that he’d had a
letter slot installed in the front door. The mail ended up in a big pile, but
it saved having to arrange for someone to collect it when he was away. He moved
it aside. Later, he thought, as he headed upstairs, he’d deal with all that,
but for now he just wanted sleep.

He dropped his bag in his room and, on his
way to the shower, shed his clothes. He caught his reflection in the mirror and
idly thought that one advantage of a six-week tour was that it kept him in
shape. The energy and adrenaline of a show every other night and the hit-and-miss
of regular meals meant he burnt more calories than he packed on. He had set up
a home gym but was pleased he wouldn’t have to struggle to get the six-pack
back. He padded into the shower and, turning it on hot, stepped in. The full
blast of the water felt good as he let himself relax.

It was good to be home. And to have a home
to go to. The rest of the band thought he was crazy, but he’d bought a house in
a suburban neighborhood eighteen months ago. There were a lot of young families
and nosey, friendly elderly. But it was quiet. And apparently Shades’ music
didn’t play in the circles of young families and nosey, friendly elderly
because they left him alone. It was a big change from the screaming masses of fans,
mostly female, mobbing the band at concerts and interrupting every public meal they
ate, asking for autographs. But he was glad. They needed the fans and he loved
every single one of them, but he needed space from them, too.

This house in this neighborhood seemed to
be it, for now anyway. There were always little changes he noticed after he was
away for a while, flowers added to flower beds, new paint colors, and new neighbors
arriving with surprising regularity. The house beside his had been for sale
when he’d left. Yawning, he wondered if it had been sold.

When he felt close to nodding off, he
turned off the water. Barely drying off, he dropped into bed and tugged the
blanket up to his chin. It’s good to be home, he thought as he drifted into a
deep sleep.