“Where is he?” Violet screams. “I can’t stop this!”
“It’s okay, Violet. He’ll be here,” Hazel says reassuringly.
“Sir!” the nurse yells.
“Violet Stewart, she’s the one yelling.”
The nurse nods and I rush toward the sound.
When I open the door, Violet’s eyes widen and the amber color brightens. “You made it!”
“I’m here. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m here.” I enter the room, shooting a scathing look at my best friend, who did not call me immediately when my girl’s water broke, and I rush to Violet’s bedside.
Dr. Cowles clears her throat. “Violet, you’re now ten centimeters, and the baby is coming. You’re going to need to push.”
I lean in, kissing Violet’s head. “She’s coming, baby. You’re doing it.”
She makes a face. “You stink.”
“I didn’t have time to shower, love,” I say a little defensively.
“I know, but you smell and I’m in pain and I need you. Come here,” she implores. “I need to kiss you.”
I’m not sure what to think at this point, but this has been her mood the last five weeks. We go from one extreme to another in a nanosecond. I move toward her and kiss her softly.
When I pull back, there are tears in her eyes. “Hey, no tears.”
“We’re going to have a baby.”
“I know.”
“I’m not ready. What if I’m not a good mom? What if I’m like my mom? What if she doesn’t like me?” Violet fires off her fears, and I brush her sweat-dampened hair back.
“We are ready. You’re already an amazing mom who is nothing like your own, and no one who has ever met you doesn’t love you. Courtney will be no different.”
She sniffles and then a contraction hits, her hand gripping mine so tight she might break bones. My jaw drops and I want to say something, but dear God, I really need my hand to work.
It ends quickly and I pull it back, shaking it out. “Jesus, that hurt.”
That causes every pair of eyes to turn to me, all three women, and I realize I am probably going to get hit with something. “I realize now that was stupid.”
The doctor raises a brow. “Yes, very.” Then she looks back at Violet. “Next contraction, push.”
Violet’s head rests to the side, staring at me. “What if I don’t know what she needs? What if she hates me as a teenager?”
I smile. “What if you’re her best friend?”
She scoffs. “No teenager loves their mother.”
Hazel raises her hand. “Umm, I did. My mom is the best.”
“See, Hazel loves her mom and Hazel is ... normal?”
Hazel flips me off and looks to Violet. “Look, if she’s a hellion, we’ll blame Everett, okay?”
Violet laughs. “That sounds good.”
“Yes, let’s all blame Everett,” I joke.
