“Time, hell. We’re going now. Shouldn’t we go now?” Zack demanded of Nadia.
She smiled and nodded. “It would be best for you, Zack.”
“But, Mama—”
Rachel’s protest was cut off by Nadia’s gentle flow of Ukrainian, the gist of which had a great deal to do with placating frightened husbands.
“She should put her feet up,” Mikhail announced. “This helped you, yes?”
“Yes,” Sydney agreed. “But I think we should wait until she gets to the hospital.”
“Nine-one-one.” Alex shoved away from the table and sprang to his feet. “I’ll call.”
“Oh, sit down.” Rachel waved an annoyed hand at him. “I don’t need a cop.”
“An ambulance,” he insisted.
“I’m not sick, I’m in labor.”
“I take her in the truck.” Yuri was already up, prepared to lift his baby girl into his big arms. “We get there very fast.”
While the men began to argue in a mixture of languages, Nadia rose quietly and went into the kitchen to call Rachel’s obstetrician.
“I’ve already been through this,” Mikhail was saying to Alex. “I know how to handle it.”
“Ha.” Their father pushed them both aside and pounded a fist on his broad chest. “Me, four times. You know nothing.”
“We don’t have the tape recorder or the music.” Nick ran a hand through his flow of sandy hair. He was desperately afraid he’d be sick. Though no one was listening to him, he continued to babble. “The video camera. We’ve got to get the video camera.”
“Honey, you want some water? You want some juice?” When she yelped, Zack turned dead white. “Another one? It hasn’t been ten minutes, has it?”
“You’re breaking my hand.” Rachel shook it free and sent a pleading look to Sydney.
“Okay, guys, back off.” The steel under velvet that made Sydney a successful businesswoman snapped into her voice. “Alex, go upstairs and get your sister a pillow for the ride. Yuri, go start the truck. That’s a very good idea. Nick, you, Mikhail and Griff go back to your apartment and get what Rachel needs. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”
“How do you get there?” Mikhail demanded.
“I have a car.” Bess was watching the family drama with fascinated eyes. “We can fit three in a pinch.”
“Wonderful.” Dispersing the troops with all the flair of a general, Sydney gave her husband a kiss and a shove. “Get going. Zack and Nadia will ride with Yuri and Rachel. I’ll go with Alex and Bess.”
As the next contraction hit, Rachel began to breathe slowly, steadily. “Sorry,” she said to Bess in between breaths, “to put you out.”
“No problem.” She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself asking what it felt like to go into labor at a family dinner. There’d be time for that later.
“I called the doctor, and Natasha.” Nadia came back into the room, pleased that Sydney had organized the troops. “Natasha and her family are coming.”
“We should go.” Zack helped Rachel to her feet and swallowed hard. “Shouldn’t we go?”
By the time they arrived at the hospital, Sydney and Bess were the best of friends. It was difficult to be otherwise, when they’d been crammed together in one seat while Alex drove like a madman back to Manhattan.
They talked about clothes, a few mutual friends they’d discovered, and the Stanislaski men. Sydney agreed that it was very forbearing of Bess not to mention the quality of Alex’s driving, after he’d been so critical of hers.
By the time they found their way to the maternity level, Rachel was already settled in a birthing room, Zack had gotten over the first stages of panic, and Yuri was patting a pocket full of cigars.
“She’s in the early stages,” Nadia explained to them in the corridor. “Company is good for her.”
Alex strode straight through the door, but Bess hung back. “I don’t want to intrude,” she said to Nadia.
