Page 33 of Over and Above (Mount Hope #4)
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eric
“I don’t think I can do this.” Maren had repeated that phrase at least twenty times since summoning me to join her, Diesel, and Marissa in my room. Each time she expressed doubt, I struggled that much more, seeing her in pain. Despite my years of training and experience, all I could do was watch and try not to wring my hands or pass my nervous energy on to her.
“You are doing it.” Marissa had bottomless patience. She was going to be an amazing mother because no matter how many times Maren paced the length of the room, muttering the same worries, Marissa kept the same gentle response. “You’re being so strong.”
“And brave,” Diesel added. Occasionally, Maren would stop the pacing for a contraction and let Diesel rub her back, but mainly, he trailed behind her, expression as helpless as I felt.
“I don’t want to be brave,” Maren shot back before turning her questioning gaze toward me.
“Diesel is right. You are brave, even if you’d rather not be. And you can be brave and scared.” God knew I was intimately familiar with that combo of emotions.
“What if I’m not ready?” she asked as she glanced over at the tub full of warm water. I thought back to June when I’d first heard the news and every conversation after that with Magnus.
“None of us are.” I echoed Magnus’s answer from those early talks. I felt silly now to have worried so much about being ready when the truth was there were some things in life one was never prepared for, parenthood included.
“I know.” Maren’s lip wobbled. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no apologizing,” I spoke faster before actual tears could appear. “You’re doing amazing, and I’m so proud of you. I meant we’re never ready to be parents. Or for any other big life change. We simply do our best. Muddle through. You’re going to do great. You are doing great.”
“Huh.” Maren sucked in a breath as another contraction hit, pausing to rock through it and squeeze Diesel’s hand before she could speak again. “I’m kind of a hot mess.”
“You’ve got this,” Marissa soothed again as she quickly checked fetal heart tones. She nodded at me, one professional to another, an acknowledgment that the vital signs were staying steady despite Maren’s ongoing doubts. “How would you feel about trying the tub?”
“I’m kind of rethinking the whole no-epidural thing.” Maren’s lips twisted as her forehead creased.
“You’re doing great.” My hands clenched, the urge to suggest transfer bubbling up my throat. But instead, I said, “Maybe Marissa’s right, honey. What if the tub helps?”
“You’re not advocating for the epidural?” Maren’s frown deepened. “I thought you’d be warming up the car.”
“I believe in you, Maren.” I peered deeply into her eyes, transported to the first time I’d seen that scared yet granite-strong gaze. “You can do this. If you need to transfer, I’m here. We’re all here. But right now, you’re doing amazing.”
“Okay.” Maren nodded, resolution replacing fear. “I’m gonna get in the tub.”
Marissa and Diesel helped her get situated in the warm water, and I hung back in the corner of the room, trying to offer her privacy while wanting to stay close in case she wanted another pep talk. I didn’t have an app on my phone like Diesel, but I could tell the contractions were staying close together even as Maren relaxed in the tub, less antsy now.
“How are you doing?” Marissa floated over to me after another check of the baby’s heart rate. Diesel stayed with Maren, rubbing her shoulders.
“Me?” I shrugged. “I’m just worried about Maren.”
“I know. And you’re doing great too.” She patted my arm. “Thanks for supporting the tub idea.”
“No problem.” I huffed out a sharp breath. “Do they make grandparent epidurals?”
“I wish.” Marissa laughed softly. “And she’s closer than she thinks to baby’s arrival.”
“Gonna trust you on that.” I rolled my neck from side to side. Letting go of the need to control this situation was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. For the first time since reclaiming this room for myself, my brain flashed back to the day Montgomery had passed away in this very room. I didn’t have control then either.
And in a very real way, Maren having the baby in here felt right, the universe coming full circle to give me two experiences where all I could do was watch and wait and offer a few helpless prayers.
“Marissa.” Maren made a startled noise. “I think I’m pushing.”
“Go with it.” Marissa stayed a beacon of calm, returning to the side of the tub but otherwise not seeming at all alarmed. My own pulse, on the other hand, galloped along in a Kentucky Derby-worthy sprint. I had to fight the urge to hold my breath—like that would help anything.
I could only see the back of Maren’s head, along with Diesel’s and Marissa’s profiles, and I was debating moving when several things happened all at once. Maren made her loudest noise yet, water splashing, as Marissa said, “Catch your baby, Maren.”
Another splash and the smallest of cries as Maren sank back against the tub, something in her arms.
Baby. That last sound had been a baby, not Maren. All the air I’d been retaining escaped on a giant whoosh, and I did move, my first view of Maren cradling the baby coming into blurry focus through my tears.
“I did it.” Maren gazed down at the baby in nothing short of wonder. “Oh my God, I really did it.”
“You really did.” My chest was so tight it was a wonder I got any words out at all.
“You did amazing. Both of you.” Diesel kept petting Maren’s head as he looked at the surprisingly chill little being on Maren’s chest.
“It’s a girl.” Smiling, Maren adjusted her bundle to check. The baby made a small squeak but otherwise didn’t protest the position change. I glanced over at Marissa right as she caught my gaze.
“Eric. Can you hand me my bag?” she asked, tone more professional now. “And, Diesel, grab us a couple of the towels we laid out.”
“Is she okay?” Maren asked as I joined Marissa at the side of the tub. Letting someone else run a call never got any easier, but I waited along with Maren as Marissa quickly listened to the baby’s heart and lungs.
“She’s beautiful, Mama,” Marissa soothed. “Sounds great. She’s just a little cold. Let’s get you both in the bed, warm you up.”
Getting Maren and the baby out of the tub and onto the bed was a production, but eventually, both were settled on a mountain of pillows in the center of the bed, baby on Maren’s chest under a towel, her color and vigor much better now. Diesel sat next to the two of them, and after the placenta was delivered and the cord cut, he got a chance to hold the baby after helping Marissa diaper, weigh, and swaddle the newborn.
Wah. The baby gave her first loud squawk of the whole ordeal as her blanket dipped, and Diesel’s face fell. “I think she wants back with Maren.”
“She’s just saying hello.” Marissa was as reassuring as ever. “And probably protesting being cold again.”
“You’re doing great,” I said to Diesel what I probably should have said months earlier. He’d really been remarkable this entire time. Turned out that all my doubts and worries had been for nothing.
Huh. Clarity slammed into me with a force that made me need to steady myself with a hand on the footboard. I need to find Magnus.
“You wanna tell the name?” Diesel asked Maren before I could excuse myself from the room.
“Yeah,” Maren nodded as she dropped a kiss on the baby’s forehead. “Welcome to the family, Destiny Ericka.”
“You…” I wasn’t sure I’d ever gasped louder in my life. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do.” Maren gave me a long, searching look, years rushing between us, first meeting, adoption hearing, high school, graduation, her first day of college. “You’re my dad. And don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” I lied as tears streamed down my cheeks. “We need to tell the rest of the family.”
“They’re all behind you.” Maren laughed, pointing at the cracked door where four human heads and two canine ones all lurked. “Come on in, people. Come meet Destiny Ericka.”
Diesel transferred the baby back to Maren as everyone trooped in. I was far from the only one crying, but Wren looked most perplexed by their own tears.
“My eyes.” Wren waved a hand in front of their face. “I’m happy. Not sad. Why am I crying?”
“I’m crying too.” I gave them a swift hug before they pulled away. “Relief is a powerful thing.”
“I suppose.” Eyes wide, Wren continued to appear dazed as they approached the bundle in Maren’s arms. “Happy birthday, baby. Magnus and John made cupcakes. Rowan made a party.”
“Sit next to me,” Maren urged, waiting until Wren was perched stiffly next to her to place the bundle in Wren’s lap.
Wren inhaled sharply, gazing down at the baby. A little fist escaped the blankets. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
All our doubts. All our collective worries. And the baby was here. The clarity I’d had a few minutes earlier returned in full force as Magnus came up beside me. There was no one, absolutely no one, I’d rather have by my side.
“Hanging in there?” Magnus asked, his own eyes suspiciously shiny.
“Barely,” I admitted. With him, I could be honest in a way I couldn’t with anyone else on earth.
“Here.” Magnus pressed a mug into my hands. “Made you an Irish coffee. Might help?”
“Bless you.” I took a long, bracing sip.
“Later, we can have champagne,” Magnus teased in a low voice. “Celebrate you winning Grandparent of the Decade before we even get started on this gig.”
“Oh. The name thing. Sorr?—”
“Don’t you dare apologize.” He lightly doffed my shoulder. “It’s the perfect name.”
What was truly perfect was this moment, all of us here sharing it, Magnus very much included. Life didn’t hand out perfection like this very often.
“Can we talk later?” I asked in an urgent whisper. “Just us.”
“Of course.” His eyes were soft and kind, and it took all kinds of restraint to not kiss him right then. The whole day had been a lesson, and I couldn’t wait to share it with the person who mattered most.