A Cedar Cove Christmas (16 page)

“Me, neither,” Lisa said. “There couldn’t be a more ideal way to celebrate Christmas!”

“Y
ou’re doing great,” Mack assured Mary Jo.

“No, I’m not,” she cried, exhaling a harsh breath. Giving birth was hard, harder than she’d ever envisioned and the pain…the pain was indescribable.

The second EMT came back into the bedroom. “I talked to your friend and she’s on her way.”

“Thank God.” It was difficult for Mary Jo to speak in the middle of a contraction. The pain was so intense and she panted, imitating Mack who’d shown her a breathing exercise to help deal with it.

Mack held her hand and she squeezed as tight as she could, so tight she was afraid she might be hurting him. If that was the case, he didn’t let on.

“Get a cool damp washcloth,” Mack instructed the other man.

“Got it.” As though thankful for something to do, Brandon Hutton shot out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom.

“I’m going to check you again,” Mack told her.

“No!” She clung to his hand, gripping it even tighter.

“I need you here. Beside me.”

“Mary Jo, I have to see what position the baby’s in.”

“Okay, okay.” She closed her eyes. Sweat poured off her forehead. Now she knew why giving birth was called labor. This was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to go to any more classes, or to finish reading the books she’d started…. She’d thought she had two more weeks. If only she hadn’t waited for David, or believed him when he’d said he wanted to attend the birthing classes with her.
This
was what she got for trusting him.

Suddenly liquid gushed from between her legs. “What was that?” she cried.

“Your water just broke.”

“Oh.” She’d forgotten about that. She had a vague recollection of other women’s stories about their water breaking.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” she asked. What she hoped was that it meant her baby was almost ready to be born and this agony would come to an end.

“It’s good,” he told her.

“It’ll be better now, right?”

Mack hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Tell me.”

“Your labor may intensify.”

This had to be a cruel joke. “Intensify.” She couldn’t imagine how the pains could get any stronger than they were now. “What do you mean…intensify?”

“The contractions will probably last longer….”

“Oh, no,” she moaned.

Although she’d discovered this was Mack’s first birth, he knew so much more than she did. He’d at least studied it and obviously paid attention during class. Mack had joked that he was getting on-the-job training—and so was she, but that part didn’t seem so amusing anymore.

“The baby’s fully in the birth canal. It won’t be long now, Mary Jo. Just a few more pains and you’ll have your baby.”

“Thank God.” Mary Jo didn’t know how much more of this she could take.

“Rest between contractions,” Mack advised.

Brandon Hutton returned with a damp washcloth. Mack took it from him and wiped her face. The cool cloth against her heated skin felt wonderfully refreshing.

At the approach of another pain, she screamed, “Mack! Mack!”

Instantly he was at her side, his hand holding hers. Her fingers tightened around his.

“Count,” she begged.

“One, two, three…”

The numbers droned on and she concentrated on listening to the even cadence of Mack’s voice, knowing that by the time he reached fifty, the contraction would ease.

Halfway through, she started to pant. And then felt the instinctive urge to bear down. Arching her back, Mary Jo pushed with every ounce of her strength.

When the pain passed, she was too exhausted to speak.

Mack wiped her forehead again and brushed the damp hair from her face.

“Water,” she mumbled.

“Got it!” Brandon Hutton tore out of the room, like a man on a quest.

Recovering from the pain, she breathed deeply, her chest heaving. She opened her eyes and looked up at Mack. His gaze was tender.

“How much longer?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Soon.”

“I can’t stand much more of this…I just can’t.” Tears welled in her eyes and rolled down the sides of her face.

Mack dabbed at her cheeks. As their eyes met, he gave her an encouraging smile. “You can do it,” he said. “You’re almost there.”

“I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he told her. They continued to hold hands.

Brandon came back with the water. “Here,” he said.

Mack took the glass and held it for Mary Jo, supporting her head. “Just a sip or two,” he cautioned.

She nodded and savored each tiny sip.

The sound of a car door slamming echoed in the distance.

“Grace,” Mary Jo said, grateful the other woman had finally arrived.

“I’ll bring her up.” Brandon quickly disappeared from the room.

Another pain approached. “No…no…” she whimpered, gathering her resolve to get through this next contraction. She closed her eyes and clung to Mack, thanking God once more that she wasn’t alone. That Mack was with her…

Mack automatically began to count. Again she felt the urge to push. Gritting her teeth, she bore down, grunting loudly for the first time, straining her entire body.

“Mary Jo.” Grace’s serene voice broke through the haze of pain. “I came as soon as I heard.”

The contraction eased and Mary Jo collapsed onto the mattress, sweat blinding her eyes.

“The baby’s in the birth canal,” Mack told her friend.

“What would you like me to do?” Grace asked.

“Hold on to her hand and count off the seconds when the contractions come.”

“No…don’t leave me.” Mary Jo couldn’t do this without Mack at her side.

“I need to deliver the baby,” he explained, his words so gentle they felt like a warm caress. “Grace will help you.”

“I’m here,” Grace said.

“Okay.” Reluctantly Mary Jo freed Mack’s hand.

Grace slipped into his spot. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Mary Jo said.

“How would you do that?” Grace asked, clasping her hand.

Somehow she found the strength to smile. “I squeeze hard.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” Grace said reassuringly. “You squeeze as hard as you need to and don’t worry about me.” She reached for the damp cloth and wiped Mary Jo’s flushed and heated face.

“I…don’t have anything for the baby,” she whispered. That thought suddenly struck Mary Jo and nearly devastated her. Her baby wasn’t even born yet, and already she was a terrible mother. Already she’d failed her child.

“That’s all been taken care of.”

“But…I don’t even have a blanket.”

“Maryellen and Jon are stopping at their house for diapers and baby blankets and clothes for a newborn.”

“But…”

“Maryellen still has all of Drake’s clothes, so that should be the least of your worries, okay?”

“Okay.” A weight lifted from her heart.

Another pain approached. Mary Jo could feel herself pushing the infant from the womb. She gritted her teeth, bearing down with all her strength.

Grace, her voice strong and confident, counted off the seconds. Again, when the pain was over, Mary Jo collapsed on the bed.

In the silence that followed, Mary Jo could hear the sound of her own harsh breathing. Then in the distance she heard the laughter of children.

“The kids…”

“The grandchildren are outside with Cliff,” Grace said.

“Laughing?”

“Do you want me to tell Cliff to keep them quiet?”

“No…no. It’s…joyful.” This was the way it should be on Christmas Eve. Hearing their happiness gave her hope. Her baby, no matter what the future held, would be born surrounded by people who were kind and encouraging.

Giving birth in a barn, the stalls below filled with beasts, children running and laughing outside, celebrating the season, hadn’t been part of Mary Jo’s plan. And yet—it was perfect.

So perfect.

This was a thousand times better than being alone with strangers in a hospital. None of her brothers would’ve been comfortable staying with her through labor. Maybe Ned, but even her youngest brother, as much as he loved her, wouldn’t have done well seeing her in all this pain.

Mack had been with her from the first, and now Grace.

“Thank you,” she whispered to them both.

“No, Mary Jo, thank
you,
” Grace whispered back.

“We’re so honored to be helping you.”

“I’m glad you’re with me.” She smiled tremulously at Grace, then Mack. How she wished she’d fallen in love with him instead of David. Mack was everything a man should be….

Another pain came, and she locked her eyes with his for as long as she could until the contraction became too strong. She surrendered to it, whimpering softly.

“The head’s almost there,” Mack said when the pain finally released her. “Your baby has lots of brown hair.”

“Oh…”

“Another pain or two and this will be over,” Grace promised.

“Thank God, thank God,” Mary Jo said fervently.

“You’re going to be a good mother,” Grace told her.

Mary Jo wanted to believe that. Needed to believe it. All night, she’d been tortured with doubts and, worse, with guilt about arriving at this moment totally unprepared.

“I
want
to be a good mother.”

“You already are,” Mack said.

“I love my baby.”

“I know.” Grace whisked the damp hair from her brow.

Mary Jo was drenched in sweat, her face streaked with tears. “I’m never going through this again,” she gasped, looking at Grace. “I can’t believe my mother gave birth four times.”

“All women think that,” Grace said. “I know I did. While I was in labor with Maryellen, I told Dan that if this baby wasn’t the son he wanted, he was out of luck because I wasn’t having another one.”

“You did, though.”

“As soon as you hold your baby in your arms, nothing else matters. You forget the pain.”

Footsteps clattered up the stairs. “Mom?”

It was Maryellen, Grace’s daughter.

“In here,” Grace called out.

Maryellen hurried into the room, then paused when she saw Mary Jo and smiled tearfully. Her arms were filled with baby clothes.

A pain overtook Mary Jo. Again it was Mack she looked to, Mack who held her gaze, lending her his strength.

She was grateful that Grace was at her side, but most of the time it had been Mack who’d guided and encouraged her. He had a way of comforting her that no one else seemed to have, not even Grace.

“You’re doing so well,” Mack told her. “We have a shoulder….”

Mary Jo sobbed quietly. It was almost over. The baby was leaving her body. She could feel it now, feel the child slipping free and then the loud, fierce cry that resounded in the room.

Her relief was instantaneous.

She’d done it! Despite everything, she’d done it.

With her last reserve of strength, Mary Jo rose up on one elbow.

Mack held the child in his arms and Brandon had a towel ready. Mack turned to her and she saw, to her astonishment, that there were tears in his eyes.

“You have a daughter, Mary Jo.”

“A daughter,” she whispered.

“A beautiful baby girl.”

Her own tears came then, streaming from her eyes with an intensity of emotion that surprised her. She hadn’t given much thought to the sex of this child, hadn’t really cared. Her brothers were the ones who’d insisted she’d have a son.

They’d been wrong.

“A daughter,” she whispered. “I have a daughter.”

“T
he natives are getting restless,” Jon Bowman reported to Grace when she camed own from the apartment. After watching the birth of Mary Jo’s baby, Grace felt ecstatic. She couldn’t describe all the emotions tumbling through her. Joy. Excitement. Awe. Each one held fast to her heart.

Katie, April and Tyler raced around the yard, screaming at the top of their lungs, chasing one another, gleeful and happy. Jon went to quiet them, but Grace stopped him.

“Let them play,” she told her son-in-law. “They aren’t hurting anything out here.”

“Kelly and Lisa are inside making hot cocoa,” Cliff said, joining Grace. “And Paul’s looking after Emma.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Everything all right up there?” He nodded toward the barn.

“Everything’s wonderful. Mary Jo had a baby girl.”

“That’s marvelous!” Cliff kissed her cheek. “I bet you never guessed you’d be delivering a baby on Christmas Eve.”

Grace had to agree; it was the last thing she’d expected. She was thankful Mary Jo hadn’t been stuck in some hotel room alone. These might not have been the best of circumstances, but she’d ended up with people who genuinely cared for her and her baby.

Grace didn’t know Roy and Corrie McAfee’s son well, but Mack had proved himself ten times over. He was a capable, compassionate young man, and he’d been an immeasurable help to Mary Jo. In fact, Grace doubted
anyone
could have done more.

After he’d delivered that baby girl, Mack had cradled the infant in his arms and gazed down on her with tears shining in his eyes. An onlooker might have thought he was the child’s father.

The other EMT actually had to ask him to let go of the baby so he could wash her. After that, Grace had wrapped the crying baby in a swaddling blanket and handed her to Mary Jo.

The two EMTs were finishing up with Mary Jo and would be transporting her and the baby to the closest birthing center. Maryellen had stayed to discuss breastfeeding and to encourage and, if need be, assist the new mother.

Grace had felt it was time to check on the rest of her family.

“It’s certainly been a full and busy night,” Cliff said.

“Fuller than either of us could’ve imagined,” Grace murmured.

A car pulled into the yard. “Isn’t that Jack’s?” Cliff asked, squinting into the lights.

“Yes—it’s Olivia and Jack.” Grace should’ve known Olivia wouldn’t just go home after Christmas Eve services. She’d briefly told Olivia what was happening before she’d hurried out of the church, fearing she’d caused enough of a distraction as it was.

Jack parked next to Cliff’s vehicle. Before he’d even turned off the engine, Olivia had opened her door. “How’s everything?” she asked anxiously as she stepped out of the car.

“We have a baby girl.”

Olivia brought her hands together and pressed them to her heart. “I’m so
pleased.
And Mary Jo?”

“Was incredible.”

“You delivered the baby?”

“Not exactly. But I was there.”

Being with Mary Jo had brought back so many memories of her own children’s births. Memories that were clear and vivid. The wonder of seeing that beautiful, perfectly formed child. The elation. The feeling of womanly power. She remembered it all.

“If not you, then who?” Olivia asked.

“Mack McAfee. The other EMT, Brandon, was there, too, but it was Mack who stayed with Mary Jo, who helped her through the worst of it. By the time I arrived, the baby was ready to be born.”

“I’m sure she was happy to see you.”

Mary Jo had been, but she hadn’t really needed Grace; she and Mack had worked together with a sense of ease and mutual trust.

Grace almost felt as if she’d intruded on something very private. The communication between Mack and Mary Jo had been—she hesitated to use this word—
spiritual.
It was focused entirely on the birth, on what each needed to do to get that baby born. Grace felt moved to tears, even now, as she thought about it.

“Grandma, listen!” Tyler shouted. He pounded on his drum, making an excruciating racket.

Grace covered her ears. “Gently, Tyler, gently.”

Tyler frowned as he looked up at her. “I was playing my best for you.”

“Remember the song about the little drummer boy?” Olivia asked him.

Tyler nodded eagerly. “It’s my favorite.”

“It says in the song that he went pa-rum-pum-pum-pum, right?”

Tyler nodded again.

“It doesn’t say he beat the drum like crazy until baby Jesus’s mother put her hands over her ears and asked him to go next door and play.”

Tyler laughed. “No.”

“Okay, try it more slowly now,” Grace said.

Tyler did, tapping on the drum in a soft rhythm that was pleasing to the ear.

“Lovely,” Grace told her grandson.

“Can I play for the ox and the lamb?” he asked.

“In the song they kept time, remember?”

Grinning, Tyler raced away to show his cousins what he’d learned and to serenade the animals.

“Come in for a cup of coffee,” Cliff suggested to Olivia and Jack.

“We should head home,” Jack said. His arm rested protectively on Olivia’s shoulders.

“I just wanted to make sure everything turned out well,” Olivia explained. “Do you think I could see Mary Jo and the baby for a few minutes?”

“I don’t see why not,” Grace said with a smile.

The two women left the men outside to chat while Grace led the way up to the small apartment. Brandon Hutton sat on the top step with his medical equipment, filling out paperwork. He shifted aside and they skirted around him.

“Mary Jo?” Grace asked, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. “Would it be okay if Olivia came in to see the baby?”

“Of course. That would be fine,” Mary Jo said.

When they walked into the bedroom, they found Mary Jo sitting up, holding her baby in her arms.

“Oh, my,” Olivia whispered as she reached the bed.

“She’s so tiny.”

“She didn’t feel so tiny a little while ago.” Mary Jo looked up with a comical expression. “I felt like I was giving birth to an elephant.”

“It was worth it, though,” Olivia said and tenderly ran her finger over the baby’s head. “She’s just gorgeous.”

“I never would’ve believed how much you can love such a tiny baby.” Mary Jo’s voice was filled with wonder. “I thought my heart would burst with love when Mack put her in my arms.”

“Do you have a name for her?” Grace asked.

“Not yet. I had one picked out, but now I’m not sure.”

“She’s a special baby born on a special night.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Mary Jo said, kissing the newborn’s forehead. Her gaze fell lovingly on the child. “When I was first pregnant…I was so embarrassed and afraid, I prayed God would just let me die. And now…now I see her as an incredible gift.”

Grace had felt that way when she discovered she was pregnant with Maryellen all those years ago. It was shortly before her high school graduation; she’d been dating Dan Sherman and their relationship had always been on-again, off-again. She’d dreaded telling him she was pregnant, even more than she’d dreaded telling her parents.

For weeks she’d kept her secret, embarrassed and ashamed. But like Mary Jo, she’d learned to see the pregnancy as an unexpected gift, and the moment Maryellen was placed in her arms, Grace had experienced an overwhelming surge of love. The birth hadn’t been easy, they never really were, but as soon as she saw her daughter, Grace had recognized that every minute of that pain had been worth the outcome.

“If you need anything,” Olivia was saying to Mary Jo, “please don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you. That’s so kind.”

Olivia turned to Mack, who hovered in the background. “Are you taking her to the birthing center in Silverdale?”

He nodded. “We’ll be leaving in about ten minutes.”

“Then I won’t keep you,” Olivia said. “I’ll stop by sometime tomorrow afternoon,” she promised Mary Jo.

“Oh, please don’t,” Mary Jo said quickly. “It’s Christmas—spend that time with your family. I’ll get in touch soon. Anyway, I’ll be with my own family.” She looked up, her eyes widening.

“Mary Jo?” Grace asked in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, my goodness!”

“What is it?” Mack’s voice was equally worried.

“My brothers,” Mary Jo said. “They never showed up.”

“That’s true.” The entire matter had slipped Grace’s mind. “Mary Jo’s brothers were due here—” she checked her watch “—three hours ago.”

“Where could they be?” Mary Jo wailed.

Grace tried to reassure her. “They’re probably lost. It’s easy enough with all these back roads. They’ve never been in this area before, have they?”

Mary Jo shook her head.

“Don’t worry. As soon as they arrive, I’ll tell them what happened and where to find you.”

Mary Jo smiled down at the infant cradled in her arms. “They’ll hardly believe I had the baby,” she murmured. “But then it’s hard for me to believe, too.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Olivia said.

“Thank you, but please…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t tell your parents about the baby yet. Give them a chance to settle back into their routine before you let them know about David and me—and the baby.”

“I won’t say a word until you and I agree the time is right.”

Mary Jo nodded.

Grace was impressed that Mary Jo wanted to spare Ben and Charlotte the unsavory news of David’s betrayal until they were more prepared to accept it.

“I’ll leave you now,” Olivia told her. “But like I said, if you need
anything,
anytime, please call. You’re practically family, you know.”

Mary Jo thanked her softly. “You all feel like family to me…. Everyone’s been so wonderful.”

Grace walked down the stairs with Olivia. She was surprised to see Jack and Cliff still outside, huddled with the children.

“What’s Cliff up to now?” Grace wondered aloud.

Jack glanced over then. “You gotta see this!” he said, waving at Olivia. He sounded like a giddy child.

As soon as Grace saw the huge carton of fireworks Cliff had dragged out, she groaned. “Cliff!”

“I was saving them for New Year’s Eve, but I can’t think of a better night for celebrating, can you?”

“What about the horses?”

“They’re all safe in their stalls. Don’t worry about them.”

“And Buttercup? She hates that kind of noise.”

“She’s locked in the house.”

“Can we, Grandpa, can we?”

The children were jumping up and down, clapping their hands with enthusiasm.

“Why right now?” Grace asked.

Cliff sent her a look of pure innocence. “I was just casting about for a way to keep the grandkids entertained.”

“Oh, all right.” She sighed loudly, holding back a grin.

“Okay if we stay and watch?” Jack said.

Grace and Olivia exchanged looks. As they’d often had occasion to observe, most men were little boys at heart.

“If you must,” Olivia murmured.

The front door opened and Kelly stepped out with Paul, who still held the baby. Grace’s daughter balanced a large tray filled with mugs and Lisa followed with a tin of Christmas cookies.

“Anyone for hot chocolate?” Kelly asked.

“I’d love a cup,” Olivia said.

“Me, too,” Grace added.

Paul glanced over at the kids. “What’s going on?”

“Fireworks in a few minutes,” Grace told him.

“Wow! Great idea.”

“Men,” Olivia whispered under her breath, and then both Olivia and Grace broke into giggles, just like they had when they were schoolgirls.