Sweet Little Thing: A Novella (Sweet Thing) (14 page)

I pointed my index finger right at Jenny’s face and said, “Bingo! We want to go to the Hamptons and get fucked up and then go stay at your uncle’s cottage.”

Tyler chimed in, “We’re inviting you guys because we need a designated driver.” I elbowed him and whispered without moving my mouth, “Shut up, man.”

Mia just shook her head and looked disappointed, but Jenny looked different, she had fury behind her eyes. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You two kill me.”

I interrupted and tried to do some damage control. “Jenny, listen to me. We thought you and Mia would enjoy the cottage. You can relax in the sun overlooking the pond all day Saturday while Tyler and I wait on you two hand and foot. We’ll cook and we’ll clean—all you have to do is sit there and talk about diaper-rash cream and nipple confusion and whatever mumbo jumbo you two come up with.” I said the next part really fast and low. “And then we’ll go out Saturday night and have some fun.”

A smile started forming on her mouth. She laughed. “You mean you guys will have some fun while we drive your drunk asses around?”

“I’m fine with it,” Mia murmured from the couch.

Jenny turned around, shocked. “What?”

“I’m too tired to care,” Mia said. “We can’t drink, but they can, so why should we stop them?”
I like her more and more every day. “
We’ll do this for them and then they’ll owe us until the end of time.” She smiled triumphantly.
I spoke too soon.

Jenny waddled toward the door. “Fine!” she said without turning around. “Let’s go, Tyler. We’ll see you guys Saturday.”

Tyler and I delivered on our promise to basically cater to Jenny and Mia all day Saturday at the cottage; neither one of them made it easy on us. At lunchtime Tyler was going to make sandwiches, but Mia said she was craving fish tacos and Jenny wanted a gyro.

“Come on, ladies, let’s be reasonable,” I said to them as they sat in lounge chairs overlooking the small pond.

Mia looked up and batted her eyelashes at me. “But it’s what we want, Wilbur.”

We drove all over the Hamptons looking for gyros and fish tacos and salted caramels and Sour Patch Kids.

When we returned with all the items requested, Jenny said, “Now I’m craving a burger.”

We drove to a beachside restaurant and bar, where after a day of being servants, Tyler and I decided it was time. We went straight to whiskey, no wine, no beer, not even a vodka martini; it was whiskey time. Jenny and Mia sat out on the heated patio overlooking the beach where Jenny finally got her burger. Mia ordered a hot-fudge sundae for dinner. She’d been the picture of pregnancy health until she found out she was having a C-section. After that, it was a free-for-all. One night I’d watched her eat an entire family-sized bag of powdered donut gems in one sitting. She was still tiny compared to most, but I think there was some resignation in her that wasn’t there before. She knew certain outcomes were out of her control, so she made the best of her final weeks of pregnancy.

I wasn’t sure how much time went by, I could only measure in drinks. About five drinks in, I climbed up on the bar and addressed the crowd. I could see Mia and Jenny through the window. They were watching me… and they were mortified.

“I just want to make an announcement,” I slurred. No one tried to stop me, not even the bartender. “I’m about to become a father.”

The crowd cheered as I held up my drink. Mia came in and leaned against the inside of the door to watch me.

“My beautiful wife”—I gestured toward her and as everyone looked on, I saw people’s faces light up when they saw her belly—“is giving me a son. I want to share a prayer with you. It’s a prayer for us, all three of us.” Pulling a piece of paper from my pocket, I glanced at Mia and thought I could see a smile touching the corners of her mouth.

However many miles,

We’ll travel them together.

However many sunsets,

We’ll watch in awe together.

We’ll play our songs…

We’ll laugh to tears…

We’ll cry our sorrows…

And we’ll face our fears… together.

The three of us.

“Drinks for everyone,” I shouted.

The bar erupted. When I looked over to the door, Mia was gone. I downed two more drinks and then found Tyler first. He was wasted and I wasn’t far behind.

“Did you see where Mia and Jenny went?”

“Yeah, dude, Mia doesn’t feel good. They went to the bathroom.”

I wish I could say that statement sobered me up, but I was beyond words being of any help.

I stumbled to the women’s bathroom and pressed my head to the door. “Mia, are you okay?”

Jenny yelled back, “I think we have to go.”

I pushed the door open and went inside. The other women in the bathroom all scattered except for Jenny. Mia was leaning over the sink, splashing cold water on her face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

She turned to me, holding her stomach, but before she could speak, she buckled over and sucked air through her teeth like she was in pain. “I think it’s just false labor,” she finally said. “I’ve been having those Braxton Hicks contractions lately. I think that’s what it is.”

“What if it’s not? I have to get you to the hospital.”

“You’re in no condition to drive, Will,” Jenny said.

“No shit, Jenny, you’re going to drive us. We’re all going. Let’s go get Tyler.”

We had brought Jenny’s dad’s Lexus sedan, which had a GPS, thank God. We were able to locate all the hospitals on the way. Mia insisted we head for New York Methodist where she planned to have little Allen. She said if it was real labor, based on the time between contractions, she thought we could make it. According to the GPS, the hospital was an hour and forty-five minutes away. We all piled in the car and took off. Jenny drove like a maniac to get us on to the main highway. Mia continued having regular contractions, and each time she would yell at Jenny to slow down.

Half an hour into it, Mia’s pain became progressively worse. She started moaning through every contraction. I had her get on her hands and knees across the back seat and rock back and forth. I felt so bad for her and bad that Tyler and I had been so selfish as to think going to the Hamptons was a good idea. At the point when we were an hour away, I called Dr. Cho.

“Dr. Cho, I think Mia is in labor.”

“I am in labor!” Mia yelled.

“How long has she been having contractions?”

“I don’t know, about an hour.” My voice was shaky.

“Calm down, Mr. Ryan. She’s probably very early in her labor. Average first labors take about twelve to fifteen hours. Just relax, go to the hospital, and let the nurses check her. I’ll head in there and have them prep the OR.”

“Okay,” I said and hung up.

“What did she say?” Everyone in the car yelled at the same time.

“She said it’s probably very early in her labor.”

“What?” Mia shouted. “It can’t get worse. I don’t think I can take it if it gets worse,” she whined.

I immediately texted Martha to meet us at the hospital.

There was a moment of calm between contractions where I took Mia in my arms in the back seat. Our position was awkward, but I could tell by the way she let all her muscles go lax that she was already exhausted.

“No, no, no,” she cried. “Another one is coming,” she mumbled and then she was back on her knees again.

Jenny continually glanced in the rearview mirror while she gave Mia instructions. “In through your nose and out through your mouth, Mia. Make sure you pay attention to your breath.”

Tyler stayed relatively quiet the whole miserable ride while Mia writhed around in the back seat of that car. I made silent prayers to any god and every god that Mia wouldn’t give birth in the back seat of Jenny’s dad’s Lexus for no other reason except that I would have to deliver our baby. She spent time on her knees, on her back, on her side, and in every other possible position she could get into.

It got horrendously worse when we were about fifteen minutes from the hospital. The contractions were coming one on top of the other. Mia was out of her mind, moaning and yelling and sometimes just making low, guttural sounds. At one point she tried to take off her clothes, but I knew if I let her go there, out would come baby.

We pulled into the ER entrance driveway because it was after hours and the main entrance to the hospital was closed. Jenny pulled to the curb.

“Ahhh!” Mia cried. “Hurry! I can’t walk—it’s coming.”

“Tyler, go grab a wheelchair!” I yelled.

Jenny tried to soothe Mia with words. “Visualize your body opening like a lotus flower.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jenny!” Mia screamed at the top of her lungs.

Jenny looked back at me with her eyes wide.

I shook my head. I had no idea what to do besides get Mia into that hospital.

Honking sounds started coming from the rear of the car. I got out to see what the commotion was. It’s safe to say I was sober when we reached the hospital, but unfortunately neither Tyler nor myself were any less belligerent.

When I got out, I saw a huge yellow Hummer behind us. The massive truck couldn’t maneuver around Jenny’s car, so the driver sat there and honked.

Standing next to our rear passenger door, I looked at the guy and then pointed inside the Lexus and yelled, “My wife is in labor. We’re getting a wheelchair—can you hold on one second?”

“Just ignore him!” Mia barked.

The man honked again. I walked over to his window. He rolled it down and the imbecile said, “Are you gonna move or what? I need to get out of here. I made a wrong turn.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear when I said that my wife is in labor in that car. She can’t walk; we’re getting her a wheelchair.”

“Why should I care?” he said, glaring at me.

“Well fuck you very much!” I turned to walk back to our car.

The moment I crossed in front of his truck, he honked and laid on the horn for several seconds. I stopped. I could feel rage coursing through my veins. I watched Tyler roll the wheelchair to the car and then walk toward me.

In an eerily calm voice, I said, “Tyler, tell Jenny to take Mia in. I’ll be in there in two minutes after I kill this fuckstick.” I jutted my thumb back in the idiot’s direction.

Tyler, still severely drunk, clapped his hands and said, “Let’s do this.”

I’m not proud of it, okay. A lot of things were running though my head. I was moments away from sending my wife into surgery and moments away from becoming a father. My life would never be the same. That’s not an excuse, because if anything that would be the time to become a law-abiding citizen. I wasn’t thinking straight.

I walked to the guy’s door, very casually opened it, reached up, and pulled the idiot down onto the concrete.

“What are you doing?” he yelled.

He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and only about five foot seven inches tall, and that’s if I’m being generous. Without his ridiculous SUV, he was just a pansy-ass.

I held his neck hard. “I’m gonna spare your life, okay, but I’m gonna kick you in the stomach first and then I’m gonna go watch my baby be born.” I stood up and kicked him right in the gut with only half the force I had in me. “Have some manners, you little dickfuck!” I said and then turned and ran toward the entrance.

Tyler high-fived me on the way. When we got inside, I saw Jenny wheeling Mia through the giant double doors into the main hospital. Jenny moved out of the way for me to grab the handles of the wheelchair as we followed a nurse to the labor and delivery floor.

“We’re going to take you into a triage room and check your vitals and cervix, and because your baby was breech, we’ll do an ultrasound,” the nurse said.

At that point, Mia was really out of it. I’ve never seen someone in so much pain in my life. Tyler and Jenny went off to the waiting room to call Mia’s mom.

Once in the triage room, Mia stood up from the wheelchair and stripped off all her clothes. I put one of those wonky hospital gowns on her and then helped her up on the bed. Another contraction came right at that moment and splat! A gush of blood and water came out of her and onto the floor.

“Is that normal?”

“I don’t know,” she cried.

Having had a history of panicking in certain situations, I was amazed at how calm I was.

“Lie back, baby, you’re doing so good.” It must have been all those pregnancy books. I was nothing if not prepared.

The nurse arranged the table in front of the bed and then put a thick blue band around Mia’s belly to monitor the baby’s heartbeat. “Scoot your bottom down and spread your legs, honey.” She reached down to check Mia’s cervix while she simultaneously stared at the lines on the screen. “You’re at ten centimeters and fully effaced. I can feel the head. We need to get him out.” She turned, picked up the phone, and mumbled something about fetal distress into the receiver.

“So his head is down?”

“Yes, he must have turned, but his heart rate is decreasing rapidly. We need to get him out. The doctor is on her way up from the second floor,” the nurse said before continuing to prepare the room hurriedly.