Page 23

23

THORN

Tonight was date night, but I was so close to giving birth, we didn’t want to leave Cougar Lake. Besides, I couldn’t get comfortable sitting in a car, so Wilder took me to the diner, a place we visited at least four times a week.

“It’s busy.” That was an understatement. Almost every table was taken, but there was one empty booth at the back, and Saul led us to it as though we were royalty.

We were friends with most of the people here, and I waved to Noah who was with someone and holding the guy’s hand. Alarm bells rang in my head because he’d been dating my dad. I paused, ready to confront him. I could see the headline in tomorrow’s Cougar Lake Gazette.

Pregnant Omega Punches Lawyer

But the person sitting on the stool next to him poked his head around Noah.

“Dad! What are you doing here?”

When they’d first started seeing one another, it was a little awkward trying to separate my lawyer, Noah, from my dad’s… ummm, lover? That was an ick word. Not boyfriend. That was for teens. Maybe partner? Significant other? The English language needed a term for it.

But now they were sneaking around, with Dad not bothering to contact me when he was in town. How likely was it we wouldn’t run into one another? Not very. And not at all, because here he was.

My dad took Noah’s hand. “We missed one another, and I wanted to be close by when you had the baby. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Ummm, it is.”

We invited them to join us, but they poo-pooed that suggestion, saying we needed to enjoy our time alone. I suspected they also preferred to be by themselves, so with the diner packed with nosy neighbors, everyone knew everyone else’s business as usual.

“Alone with a diner full of people,” I quipped.

Wilder had brought a cushion, and he tucked it behind my back as I slid into the booth. My belly was so big, there was little space between me and the table. I slipped off my sandals because my feet were swollen. None of my other shoes fit.

We ordered, and I picked at my food. Wilder noticed because he was very attentive, but I explained the bad heartburn and that I’d nibble a little here and a little there as it eased.

Despite the padded seat, I couldn’t get comfortable. Coming out had been a mistake, and we should have stayed home when I could have been on the couch eating cup noodles. I’d had few cravings since becoming pregnant but cup noodles was one of them, and I couldn’t get enough.

My back was aching. Not a surprise, as I was almost nine months pregnant.

“We can take our food to go.” Wilder rubbed a foot against my swollen one.

“No, we’re here now. Let’s just finish eating and leave.”

I stabbed a French fry with my fork and bit off a tiny piece. Chewing and swallowing took forever, and I put the fork down. Dad came over to say he and Noah were leaving but he’d come up to the house tomorrow and batch cook for us.

“Thorn, what’s wrong?” Dad peered at me.

I shrugged. “Just tired, and everywhere hurts. My feet, back, butt, and especially my tummy. I’ve got terrible heartburn.”

“You sure that’s what it is?”

I grimaced, my tummy tightening as Dad waited for an answer. “Owww!” I slid my butt over the seat and swiveled my legs to the side. Wilder helped me up, and heads turned in our direction as I moaned when my belly cramped.

“He’s in labor,” many of the diner patrons yelled.

“No, I’m not. It’s heartburn.”

“Sweetheart.” Dad rubbed my back. “This is how my labor with you started.”

“Is it possible you’re about to have the baby?” Wilder furrowed his brow.

“No!” Oh, that was louder than I intended, but the pain in my belly was hurty. “Sorry, love. Labor takes hours, sometimes days, and it wouldn’t start with this gut-wrenching pain. It would build up gradually.

My dad and Wilder shared a glance, and people crowded around, regaling me with their labor stories. According to everyone in the diner, labor could be very quick. I’d read that happened in some cases, but for most omegas, it was long and drawn out. How likely was it that I’d be one of the few to experience a short labor?

“My labor with you was about thirty minutes from start to finish.” That was Dad.

“Now you tell me!”

“Make way, everyone. I need to get Thorn out.” Wilder was shooing people away.

“Ahhh.” My belly contracted so hard, I pictured a giant pair of hands squeezing me, wringing the breath out of my lungs.

“Your water broke.” Dad was pointing at the puddle at my feet.

“Sorry,” I sobbed. “Sorry. So sorry.” I was apologizing to anyone and everyone and wishing the pain would disappear.

Wilder scooped me up, but I had an urge to push. That couldn’t be right. The contractions had to push the baby down the birth canal, and I’d only had a handful. The baby wasn’t ready and neither was I. It was rushed, and I needed time to ready myself for the birth. Perhaps another day or two. I needed a good night’s sleep to prepare for labor.

“It’s too late.” Dad grabbed Wilder’s arm. “He’s having the baby here.” He got everyone out of the diner, but instead of leaving, they crowded outside, some talking on their phones.

“Tell them not to film me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll destroy their devices if they even think about it.” Wilder kissed my brow.

But Dad had taken control and was issuing instructions. He dragged the seating from the booth and laid it on the floor. Towels appeared, and my mate removed my pants. I grunted and said no when Wilder tried to get me to lie down.

“No, I want to walk and then… I don’t know.” I tugged my hair, the pain a welcome distraction from the agony in my belly. “Maybe I want to squat.” I’d never given birth before, but my body was telling me what to do.

But the messages were confusing. I had to push, so walking made no sense. Lying down was a big nope. Squatting was a possibility, but how would I balance? I’d topple forward.

“I don’t know what to do.” I was wailing, needing a sign from the universe. A plan. That was what I was waiting for. “Where’s the plan?” I yelled.

“My darling.” Wilder put his arms around me. “The plan is for our baby to arrive safely. You can do this.”

“No.” I shook my head as my body insisted I bear down. I was experiencing such agony, I should have been hospitalized and given pain relief.

Wilder put his hands on my shoulder. “Look at me, my love. Picture the baby easing their way toward us. Each contraction brings our little one closer to being in our arms. You and our child are a team.”

He was right. It was the baby and me. We’d been doing this for almost nine months.

“Hold me.” The message my body was sending was clear: I wanted to squat. Wilder supported me, and we both got into a squat position.

Thank gods he was here, because my breathing was rapid and uneven, but with my mate’s arms around me, we breathed in unison, and when my body told me to push, I did.

I’d expected to push once and the baby would be out, pink and beaming, ready to suckle. But it took many pushes. My world consisted of Wilder holding me, and me trying to get the baby out. Noises from outside vanished as my brain concentrated on our baby.

The pain meshed with the warmth of Wilder’s embrace. It wasn’t just me and the baby, it was the three of us. I was being split in two, but after one gigantic push, relief flooded over me.

“He's here.” With one hand my mate scraped up the baby, while still supporting me. Dad took our little one while Wilder helped me lie down. A boy. We had a son.

I kissed his head, plastered with damp hair stuck to his skull. I was exhausted, but there was a lightness to my body and not just because I’d pushed the baby out. I did it, something omegas had done for centuries, and I’d joined the club.

“Hello, my darling.”

Dad covered me with towels as Wilder lay beside me, and whispered to the baby that he was so glad to meet him.

“You’re probably hungry after that. Coffee and a BLT?” Saul appeared.

I giggled, and Wilder joined in as our little one closed his eyes.

“Yes, I’m starving, and add a piece of pie to the order.”

“Dylan Brett.” I whispered the baby’s name in his ear. We were honoring both my father and his uncle.

“One BLT.” Saul swooped across the floor.

“Did you remember the ketchup?”