* * *
On Monday, Hayley sat perched on her stool once more. When her back ached, she ignored it. When
she had to call for a relief clerk so she could waddle to the bathroom, again, she made a joke out of it.
Her bladder felt squeezed down to the size of a pea.
On the way back, she detoured outside, not only to stretch her legs and back but to see Stella.
"Is it okay if I take my break now? I want to hunt down Harper and apologize." She'd spent all morning dreading the moment, but she couldn't put it off any longer. "He wasn't anywhere to be found on
Sunday, but he's probably back in his cave now."
"Go ahead. Oh, I just ran into Roz. She called that professor. Dr. Carnegie? She has an appointment to see him later this week. Maybe we'll make some progress in that area."
Then she narrowed her eyes on Hayley's face. "I tell you what, one of us is going with you to your doctor's appointment tomorrow. I don't want you driving anymore."
"I still fit behind the wheel." Barely.
"That may be, but either Roz or I will take you. And I'm thinking it's time you go part-time."
"You might as well put me in the loony bin as take work away from me now. Come on, Stella, a lot of women work right up to the end. Besides, I'm sitting on my butt most all day. Best thing about finding Harper is walking."
"Walk," Stella agreed. "Don't lift. Anything."
"Nag, nag, nag." But she said it with a laugh as she started toward the grafting house.
Outside the greenhouse she paused. She'd practiced what she wanted to say. She thought it best to think it all through. He'd accept her apology. His mama had raised him right, and from what she'd seen he had a good heart. But she wanted, very much, for him to understand she'd just been in some sort of mood.
She opened the door. She loved the smell in here. Experimentation, possibilities. One day, she hoped either Harper or Roz would teach her something about this end of the growing.
She could see him down at the end, huddled over his work. He had his headphones on and was tapping one foot to whatever beat played in his ears.
God, he was so cute. If she'd met him in the bookstore, before her life had changed, she'd have hit on him, or worked it around so he'd hit on her. All that dark, messed-up hair, the clean line of jaw, the dreamy eyes. And those artistic hands.
She'd bet he had half a dozen girls dangling on a string, and another half dozen waiting in line for a chance.
She started down toward him and was surprised enough to pull up short when his head snapped up, and he swung around to her.
"Christ on a crutch, Harper! I thought I was going to startle you."
"What? What?" His eyes were dazzled as he dragged off his headset. "What?"
"I didn't think you could hear me."
"I—" He hadn't. He'd smelled her. "Do you need something?"
"I guess I do. I need to say I'm sorry for jumping down your throat every time you opened your mouth the last couple of weeks. I've been an awful bitch."
"No. Well, yeah. It's okay."
She laughed and edged closer to try to see what he was doing. It justlooked like he had a bunch of stems tied together. "I guess I had the jumps. What am I going to do, how am I going to do it? Why do I have
to feel so fat and ugly all the time?"
"You're not fat. You could never be ugly."
'That's awful nice of you. But being pregnant doesn't affect my eyesight, and I know what I see in the mirror every damn day."
"Then you know you're beautiful."
Her eyes sparkled when she smiled. "I must've been a pitiful case if you're obliged to flirt with a pregnant woman who's got a bad disposition."
"I'm not—I wouldn't." He wanted to, at the very least. "Anyway, I guess you're feeling better."
"So much better. Mostly I was feeling sorry for myself, and I just hate that poor-me crap. Imagine your mama and Stella throwing me a baby shower. I cried all over myself. Got Stella going, too. But then we had the best time. Who knew a baby shower could rock?" She pressed both hands to her belly and laughed. "You ever met Stella's step-mama?"
"No."
"She's just a hoot and a half. I laughed till I thought I'd shoot the baby right out then and there. And
Mrs. Haggerty—"
"Mrs. Haggerty? Our Mrs. Haggerty was there?"
"Not only, but she won the song title game. You have to write down the most song titles with 'baby' in it. You'll never guess one she wrote down."
"Okay. I give."
"'Baby Got Back.'"
Now he grinned. "Get out. Mrs. Haggerty wrote down a rap song?"
"Then rapped it."
"Now you're lying."
"She did. Or at least a couple lines. I nearly peed my pants. But I'm forgetting why I'm here. There you were, just trying to help with the best surprise I ever had, and I was bitching and whining. Crawling up your ass, just like you said. I'm really sorry."
"It's no big. I have a friend whose wife had a baby a few months ago. I swear you could see fangs growing out of her mouth toward the end. And I think her eyes turned red a couple times."
She laughed again, pressed a hand to her side. "I hope I don't get that bad before ..."
She broke off, a puzzled expression covering her face as she felt a little snap inside. Heard it, she
realized. Like a soft, echoing ping.
Then water pooled down between her legs.
Harper made a sound of his own, like that of a man whose words were strangled off somewhere in his throat. He sprang to his feet, babbling as Hayley stared down at the floor.
"Uh-oh," she said.
"Urn, that's okay, that's all right. Maybe I should... maybe you should ..."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harper, I didn't just pee on the floor. My water broke."
"What water?" He blinked, then went pale as a corpse. "That water. Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. Oh, shit. Sit. Sit, or... I'll get—"
An ambulance, the marines.
"My mother."
"I think I'd better go with you. We're a little early." She forced a smile so she wouldn't scream. "Just a couple of weeks. I guess the baby's impatient to get out and see what all the fuss is about. Give me a hand, okay? Oh, Jesus, Harper, I'm scared to death."
"It's fine." His arm came around her. "Just lean on me. You hurting anywhere?"
"No. Not yet."
Inside he was still pale, and half sick. But his arm stayed steady around her, and when he turned his
head, his smile was easy. "Hey." Very gently, he touched her belly. "Happy birthday, baby."
"Oh, my God." Her face simply illuminated as they stepped outside. "This is awesome."
* * *
She couldn't actually have the baby, but Stella figured she could do nearly everything else—or delegate it done. Hayley hadn't put a hospital bag together, but Stella had a list. A call to David got that ball rolling even as she drove Hayley to the hospital. She called the doctor to let him know the status of Hayley's labor, left a voice mail on her father's cell phone, and a message on his home answering machine to arrange for her own children, and coached Hayley through her breathing as the first contractions began.
"If I ever get married, or buy a house, or start a war, I hope you'll be in charge of the details."
Stella glanced over as Hayley rubbed her belly. "I'm your girl. Doing okay?"
"Yeah. I'm nervous and excited and ... Oh, wow, I'm having a baby!"
"You're going to have a fabulous baby."
"The books say things can get pretty tricky during transition, so if I yell at you or call you names—"
"Been there. I won't take it personally."
By the time Roz arrived, Hayley was ensconced in a birthing room. The television was on—an old Friends episode. Beneath it on the counter was an arrangement of white roses. Stella's doing, she had
no doubt.
"How's Mama doing?"
"They said I'm moving fast." Flushed and bright-eyed, Hayley reached out a hand for Roz's. "And everything's just fine. The contractions are coming closer together, but they don't hurt all that much."
"She doesn't want the epidural," Stella told her.
"Ah." Roz gave Hayley's hand a pat. "That'll be up to you. You can change your mind if it gets to be
too much."
"Maybe it's silly, and maybe I'll be sorry, but I want to feel it. Wow! I feel that."
Stella moved in, helped her breathe through it. Hayley sighed out the last breath, closed her eyes just
as David strode in.
"This here the party room?" He set down an overnight case, a tote bag, and a vase of yellow daisies before he leaned over the bed to kiss Hayley's cheek. "You're not going to kick me out 'cause I'm
a man, are you?"
"You want to stay?" Delighted color bloomed on Hayley's cheeks. "Really?"
"Are you kidding?" From his pocket he pulled a little digital camera. "I nominate myself official photographer."
"Oh." Biting her lip, Hayley rubbed a hand over her belly. "I don't know as pictures are such a good idea."
"Don't you worry, sugar, I won't take anything that's not G-rated. Give me a big smile."
He took a couple of shots, directed Roz and Stella to stand beside the bed and took a couple more.
"By the way, Stella, Logan's taking the boys back to his place after school."
"What?"
"Your parents are at some golf tournament. They were going to come back, but I told them not to worry, I'd take care of the kids. Then apparently Logan came by the nursery, ran into Harper—he's coming by shortly."
"Logan?" Hayley asked. "He's coming here?"
"No, Harper. Logan's taking kid duty. He said he'd take them over to his place, put them to work, and
not to worry. We're supposed to keep him updated on baby progress."
"I don't know if—" But Stella broke off as another contraction started.
Her job as labor coach kept her busy, but part of her mind niggled on the idea of Logan riding herd on
her boys. What did he mean, 'put them to work'? How would he know what to do if they got into a fight—which, of course, they would at some point. How could he watch them properly if he toolt them
to a job site? They could fall into a ditch, or out of a tree, or cut off an appendage, for God's sake, with some sharp tool.
When the doctor came in to check Hayley's progress, she dashed out to call Logan's cell phone.
"Kitridge."
"It's Stella. My boys—"
"Yeah, they're fine. Got them right here. Hey, Gavin, don't chase your brother with that chain saw." At Stella's horrified squeak, Logan's laughter rolled over the phone. "Just kidding. I've got them digging a hole, and they're happy as pigs in mud and twice as dirty. We got a baby yet?"
"No, they're checking her now. Last check she was at eight centimeters dilated and seventy percent effaced."
"I have no idea what that means, but I'll assume it's a good thing."
"It's very good. She's breezing through it. You'd think she had a baby once a week. Are you sure the
kids are all right?"
"Listen."
She assumed he'd held out the phone as she heard giggles and her boys' voices raised in excited
argument over just what they could bury in the hole. An elephant. A brontosaurus. Fat Mr. Kelso from the grocery store.
"They shouldn't call Mr. Kelso fat."
"We have no time for women here. Call me when we've got a baby."
He hung up, leaving her scowling at the phone. Then she turned and nearly rammed into Harper. Or into the forest of red lilies he balanced in both hands.
"Harper? Are you in there?"
"She okay? What's going on? Am I too late?"
"She's fine. The doctor's just checking on her. And you're in plenty of time."
"Okay. I thought lilies because they're exotic, and she likes red. I think she likes red."
"They're extremely gorgeous. Let me guide you in."
"Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe you should just take them."
"Don't be silly. We've got a regular party going on. She's a sociable girl, and having people with her is taking her mind off the pain. When I left, David had the Red Hot Chili Peppers on a CD player and a bottle of champagne icing down in the bathroom sink.
She steered him in. It was still the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and David turned his camera to the door to snap a picture of Harper peering nervously through a wonder of red lilies.
"Oh! Oh! Those are the most beautiful things I've ever seen!" A little pale, but beaming, Hayley
struggled to sit up in bed.
"They'll make a great focal point, too." Stella helped Harper set them on a table. "You can focus on
them during contractions."
"The doctor says I'm nearly there. I can start pushing soon."
