“You are going to be adad.”
Sniffling, Archie grips his shoulder, and they share a tender look that lasts forever until Freya apparently squeezes Alex’s hand and lets out a loud yell.
“You both shut the fuck up!”
Leila makes a whimpering sound and says, “Please, tell me I can wait outside. Please, please, tell me that.”
“You can wait outside.” I chuckle and go back to doing what I can to make sure Freya and the baby both get through this.
In the meantime, the support group in front of me is at its full force. “You’re doing it, Alex.” Archie keeps rubbing Alex’s shoulder, talking to him in a soothing voice. “It’s almost done.”
“Shut up!” Freya lets out an animal cry, making them both widen their eyes and pretty much piss their pants. I can barely contain my laughter at these two baboons. I wish someone would have recorded the whole situation for this baby to see when they are older. Because stuff like this doesn’t happen every day.
Ten minutes and a few broken fingers later, I’m sure, I hold a brand-new baby girl in my hands. She’s crying her lungs out, making every single person in the room start rubbing their misty eyes. I wipe mine with my shoulder since my job is still not done. Using the turkey rope to clamp the cord, I clip the baby’s cord before I wrap her into a blanket and move toward Freya’s front.
“She wants to meet you,” I say quietly, and she starts crying. “You need to turn so I can check on you. You’re exhausted.”
Still crying, with Alex’s help, she turns and leans her back on Alex’s massive body. I pass her the baby, and she takes her from me with shaking hands. I go back to checking on her when the sound of a siren cuts through the air.
“Fucking finally,” I mumble because I sure as fuck don’t know much about human bodies after a delivery.
The medics run inside. A woman in her thirties and a young man drop to their knees in front of me.
“Damn, who did all the work for us?” the woman asks, smiling.
“Freya did,” I reply proudly.
The woman sends me a curious look before pulling gloves on and going to check on Freya. I don’t know how many deliveries they go through during their shifts, but I guess it’s a few since there aren’t many doctors around.
“Rachel,” Kenneth’s trying to ask discreetly, “is everything okay?”
The woman—Rachel—glances at him briefly before saying, “I couldn’t have done it better.”
Feeling a gush of shyness, I look at Kenneth, who’s watching me with such a proud look on his face, I’m sure I just grew angel wings.
While the medics are checking Freya and the baby and helping Freya to get rid of the placenta, I go to the kitchen to wash my hands. Only when the water hits my skin do I notice how much they’re shaking. I grip the sink and hang my very heavy head low, trying to find my breath again. Suddenly, my neck can’t hold it anymore.
To be completely honest, I didn’t know if I could pull it off. Besides being rusty in the birthing department, I was also very scared because it was Ken’s niece and his family.
Strong arms wrap around me, pulling my back into a hard chest. A soft kiss lands on the back of my head.
“Thank you,” comes his gruff voice, and my hands begin shaking even more. He covers them with his and brings them under the warm stream of still-running water. He pumps some liquid soap into his hands, brings them back over mine, and starts lathering them.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into my ear, and I sag with relief. He instantly takes my weight on, not letting me crumble on the floor.
After helping me wash my hands, he takes a paper towel and helps me dry them.
“Josie!” someone yells, and I can’t even understand whose voice it is because everyone’s talking simultaneously. “Fuckin’ bring me Josie!” another yell, and now I recognize Freya.
Rushing toward her, I find her on the stretcher, clutching her baby to her chest. Alex is by her side, and the two medics are about to roll her outside. She stretches her arm toward me. I take her hand, and she squeezes me tight, passing a silent message way louder than she could ever say with actual words.
“Thank you, Josie. Thank you so much.” She starts crying. “Thank you.”
A tear escapes my eyes, and I nod, suddenly not able to speak.
“Thank you,” she whispers again, and they roll her away.
When she and Alex are out of sight, we’re left in silence until Archie whistles.
