The "What If" Guy (26 page)

My dad banged his fist on the table. “Willie Nelson.”

We all laughed.

I began clearing the table. “Sounds like a plan. Elliott, go finish your math homework, and hit the shower. I can smell your sneakers from here. Dad, go sit down,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll bring you your medications.”

“Fine.” He stood up shakily. “Good dinner tonight.”

I smiled and filled the sink with soapy water. As soon as the sound of the television trickled in from the next room, Henry wound his strong arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. I leaned back against him and closed my eyes.

“Thank you so much,” I sighed.

He drew in a breath through my loose hair. “For what, my love?”

The fire inside me that only he could ignite flamed to life. “For helping with my father and Elliott. You are so good to me.”

He planted a soft kiss on my shoulder. “I didn’t do it just for you, you know.”

“No?”

He met my gaze. “I haven’t got any family around here, so you guys are like my family. This is what family does for each other.”

My heart pitched. I turned, put my soapy hands behind Henry’s neck and pulled him tightly to me. “I love you,” I said softly in his ear. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

Chapter Twenty

I pulled into Holly’s driveway and parked behind lots of cars I didn’t recognize. Worried, I rushed to the front door, arriving just as a woman wearing Birkenstocks and a long, gray braid came out.

“Welcome.” She smiled knowingly, like a matriarch. “I’m just grabbing a CD from my car. Go on in, and make yourself at home.”

I looked at her, confused. “What’s—”

The screen door opened and a younger woman popped her head out. “Soma? Could you grab the birthing ball, too?”

I looked from the young woman to the older woman a few times. “You must be Holly’s birth team. She’s in labor?”

“Yes, I’m Soma, Holly’s midwife. And that’s Emily, her doula.”

“Come on in.” Emily held the door open.

“I still don’t know who in the hell would do this at home,” I muttered, squeezing past her.

Inside, all of the lights were turned down low, and candles burned on almost every surface. Sickeningly rich incense filled the air, and a CD of drums beating played throughout the house. None of the kids were anywhere to be seen, but most of Cody’s sisters milled around, sipping tea, and chatting softly. I was pretty sure I heard Ramona Fisk’s voice coming from the kitchen. The scene was less like a birth and more like a sedate party.

“Picture yourself in a lake, crystal clear water as still as glass. You’re submerged and completely weightless.” Emily’s soothing voice chanted as she entered the living room.

Geez, I’d known this natural stuff was what Holly had wanted, but it was worse than I’d envisioned—and I’d envisioned it being pretty bad.

I dropped my purse and keys at the bottom of the stairs and peeked around the corner. “Hello?”

A round, blue children’s pool sat in the middle of the living room, and Holly rocked on her feet next to it. Cody was at her side, stroking her huge stomach while she hummed robotically. Holly wore an open robe over a pair of sweat shorts and a sports bra, her face red and sweaty from effort. Her expression reflected pure misery and concentration. Cody’s cheeks paled as he helped his wife through an obvious contraction.

I was immediately embarrassed by the intimate atmosphere in the room, feeling as if I’d intruded on a private moment between husband and wife.

After an awkward silence, Holly released a long breath, then opened her eyes and smiled weakly at me. “I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry, I got here as soon as I saw you’d called.” I gestured at the pool. “Are you going to…” Like an idiot, I mimicked diving in. “In there?”

“It’s a birthing pool.” Soma came into the room with an oversized exercise ball. “Many women find it takes much of the pressure off of their uterus while birthing.”

Emily rolled the giant ball against the back of Holly’s legs and settled her atop it.

Holly reached for my hand. “Thanks for being here.” Sucking in a pained breath, Holly closed her eyes and resumed humming as another contraction hit.

I grasped Holly’s hand and sat in front of her. “Okay, I’m here,” I whispered. She dug the nails of both
of her hands into my fingers. Cody squatted behind her, rubbing circles on her back with his knuckles.

My stomach churned. This was way too National Geographic.

The next four hours were a blur of blood, screaming, and annoying drum music. Leave it to Holly to have a home birth, complete with a hippie midwife and half of the town’s female population standing by as an audience.

By the time Holly’s baby crowned, she was naked from the waist down and squatting in the water while we all gaped at her. She’d lost coherency long ago. She grasped my hands and looked at me, but her eyes weren’t focused. They were fogged over, and her gaze penetrated right through my skull to the wall behind me. I looked everywhere but at her lower body. Just the sounds and smells were enough to completely freak me out.

Emily counted her way through each contraction, reminding us that Holly needed a quiet, calm environment to bring her baby into. Every time she and Soma had taken a blood-soaked blue medical pad from beneath Holly, the floor wavered underneath me. Holly dripped with sweat, tufts of her hair sticking to her face and neck as she huffed and puffed and gnashed her teeth like an animal. There were a few times when I fully expected her to shape-shift right in front of me.

“It’s time,” Soma announced. She knelt between Holly’s legs in the water-filled pool. “Your baby is about to join this great big world. Come out, little one, come out and see those who love you.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.
I prayed that my fingers wouldn’t break under Holly’s grip.

Cody, who was on Holly’s other side, kissed her temple. “Come on, babe, just a few good pushes, and this will be over. You’re doing great.” I don’t think Holly could hear his voice over her own growling.

“Very good,” Soma’s tone soothed. The water in the pool clouded and shifted underneath Holly. “Ah, yes, the bag of water has broken.”

I’m gonna hurl.
I raised my eyes to Holly’s face and locked them in place.
Don’t look down.
“You’re doin’ well, uh, keep up the good work.”

I didn’t remember much about Elliott’s birth. My labor had been induced. Then I’d begged for every drug available, minus a hit of crack, so I’d been more stoned than aware of his arrival. Holly was amazing—giving birth without so much as an aspirin. She was aware of every contraction ripping her body in two, every centimeter her baby descended in her uterus, and every single fingertip touching her while she did it all. Her baby wouldn’t be put into an incubator, or looked at from behind glass. The child would be born in the middle of the very living room where she would eventually watch Disney movies and eat popcorn. This was the most natural of transitions.

“Autumn,” Holly whimpered faintly.

I looked at her eyes and realized that she’d tuned back in between contractions. For the first time in hours, she focused on something. She blinked her tear-filled, swollen eyes at me.

“Yes?” I tipped my head closer to hers so I could hear her raspy voice.

“Thanks.” She offered me a feeble simper, before turning her head to Cody and telling him the same thing.

My chest warmed, my eyes filling with tears. Cody kissed Holly tenderly and whispered affirmations of his devotion. His eyes were damp and filled with adoration as he looked at his laboring wife. He was no longer Cody, the big, strong farm boy who knew how to rope a calf in thirty-seven seconds. He was a dedicated husband watching the love of his life turn her body inside out to bring their child into the world. Their connection was beautiful to witness.

“Here it comes.” Holly drew a tortured breath as another contraction hit, her body bucking, then curling around itself.

Soma reached between Holly’s legs.

“Come on,” I cheered, no longer able to control myself, my amazement shoving horror to the side. This was incredible.

“Very well done. Keep pushing,” Emily crooned nearby. “Imagine your baby as a ball of light, and you’re moving that ball of light out into the world.”

I tried not to let the tree hugger’s ramblings irritate me. Instead, I focused on my best friend’s face. She looked superhuman. Like she was on the verge of bursting into flame or something—her teeth bared, her eyes squeezed shut with such force that I thought maybe they would shoot through the back of her skull. She gripped my fingers so tightly I could scarcely feel anything from my elbows down. But, in that moment, I didn’t care.

“Look down, Cody.” Emily called from her spot behind her video camera. For a split- second, I wondered who in the hell would want to watch such a thing. “Look down and see your baby.”

Cody’s eyes shifted from his wife’s face down to the murky water, then widened. “Babe, you’re doing it. Good job.”

Emily caught my eye and winked. “You too, Autumn. Look at the miracle.”

“I, uh.” Swallowing hard, I looked down at the pool. I no longer saw my best friend’s naked body, but the birth of a human being happening right in front of my eyes. My eyes filled as a small, purplish bundle slid from between Holly’s legs into Soma’s waiting arms. The birth looked almost effortless, though the scream that ripped from Holly told us all otherwise.

Silence filled the room when Holly collapsed against the side of the pool, and Soma placed the wet bundle on her chest.

“
Mazel tov
,” she announced softly, as the infant wiggled against Holly’s skin. “You have yourselves a daughter.”

The room filled with cheers. Cameras snapped, the video camera whirred, and all of Cody’s sisters flipped open their phones to share the good news. I sat back from the pool, both sleeves of my shirt soaked, my hands throbbing from Holly’s grip. Cody ensconced Holly and the now-crying baby in his arms. He wept against his wife’s shoulder, thanking her over and over, while Holly surveyed her new infant with pride.

The tears in my eyes spilled over, rolling down my cheeks and dripping off my chin. Since my own son’s birth, I’d not been a part of something so significant. I’d just watched my best friend bring a life into the world. A sob escaped my lips and I covered my mouth, suddenly aching to talk to Henry.

“What’s her name?” Soma asked.

Holly looked at me. “Trista Autumn Judd.”

Cody wiped his eyes and grinned. There was too much going on, too much emotion in the room to say anything. I could do nothing but laugh and cry at the same time.

“But it’s springtime.” I said, after I collected myself. I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

Holly’s tired eyes danced. “But her godmother’s name is Autumn.”

That was it for me. I spent the next half hour weeping happily while Soma and Emily weighed, cleaned, and bundled my brand new goddaughter. Everyone in the house took turns holding the little bundle while Holly was cleaned and moved to her bed to recover. I held the baby the longest—rocking her, counting her perfect little fingers and toes, smoothing her translucent, white-blonde hair.

Holding little Trista made me want more kids. I had so many things now that I hadn’t had just a few months prior. I had a relationship with my father, as did Elliott. I had a job that I enjoyed, despite the perfumed, mustard-colored smock, and a burgeoning art career. And I had Henry—the man that I loved, who loved me back. Maybe, in a few years, I would give birth to a baby while Holly held my hand.

In a hospital, with plenty of drugs in my system, that is.

“Thank you for being a part of this today,” Cody said.

“Do you want your daughter back?” I stood carefully.

I placed the bundle in his arms. Cody’s cheeks were pink, as were the rims of his eyes. He looked like the boy I’d grown up with, the boy who had let the air out of my car’s tires so that Holly and I would be stuck at the school after a dance—because he wanted to kiss her. He looked like the same kid who’d told me during twelfth grade trigonometry that he was going to marry Holly someday.

“Where’s Holl?” I asked.

“She’s fast asleep.” He kissed the top of Trista’s head. “Soma had to give her some stitches. She’s pretty uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” I wiped my eyes.

Cody chuckled tiredly. “Pretty intense, huh?”

“Yeah, I’ll say.”

He pulled me into a warm hug with Trista between us. “It really meant the world to both of us that you were here. Thank you so much.”

I hugged Cody and squeezed out the last few tears I had left. I wanted to get home to Elliott and Henry, to wrap my arms around my son and tell him how much I loved him, to tell Henry all about this amazing event.

An excited giggle bubbled out of my mouth as I walked to my car. Maybe the next baby born around Fairfield would be mine and Henry’s.

Wouldn’t that be something?

Chapter Twenty-One

After the birth of baby Trista, I spent every day through the end of May at the post office, perfecting the mural before the Flag Day celebration. I was there when the sun rose, and worked until it set. I balanced precariously on a ladder to paint the skyline, and I crouched for hours to complete the blades of golden wheat. Often times, I painted to the sound of Henry and Elliott playing their strings, the melodies floating down the hill from my dad’s house.

As my Flag Day mural project wound down, I agreed to let my dad take us fishing one Saturday. He’d nagged us for weeks, citing that he was the only person “on God’s earth” that knew about his fishing hole, and that he needed to teach Elliott how to cast a line before it was too late.

The four of us started with a picnic lunch under the bright green branches of a thicket of willow trees, just past Holly and Cody’s property. I spread a tablecloth on the grass. We shared cold fried chicken, potato salad, and lemonade that Elliott had squeezed.

While we ate, my dad told stories about his days growing up in Fairfield—about sneaking down to the fishing hole with his paints and palette, where he’d fished and painted for hours until his dad had busted him. He said he used to spend lots of time walking through the wheat fields, daydreaming about owning his own farm where he could raise horses and grow produce to sell. His own piece of land with no neighbors for miles.