Just Once More (20 page)

The men gaped up at him for a moment. The expressions on their faces would have been comical under any other circumstances, Hugh decided.

“Yeh,” one of them managed to say. “Right.” They sprang to their feet, picked up their plates, and moved off fast.

Drew waited until Hannah looked more relaxed again, then set her gently into one of the plastic chairs, and Kristen and Jenna joined her in a couple of the others. At least everybody was sitting down now, and Hugh breathed a bit easier.

“Just a few minutes, sweetheart,” Drew told his wife, “and we’ll be on our way. No worries. But I need to call the midwife, let her know we’re coming.” He pulled out his phone, turned away, and was speaking into it within seconds, his voice urgent.

Hannah laughed again. Doing her best to smooth the situation for everybody else there, as if that were possible. “It’s like a sitcom,” she said.

“It’d only be a sitcom if Kristen and Jenna went into labor too,” Kate said. She looked at Kristen, sitting beside her sister and looking sweetly concerned. “Any action?”

“No,” Kristen said, clearly startled. “Of course not. I’ve still got more than three weeks to go.”

“I have two,” Hannah said, and that was another laugh, at least an attempt at one.

“Don’t scare us like that, Kate,” Reka said. “Bloody hell.”

Drew looked up, because Finn was coming back, threading his way between the tables.

“Car’s here,” he said briefly, and that had been quick. But then, Koti
was
quick.

They stood to leave, but halfway to the door, Hannah sagged again. Drew gave an exclamation, swept her up in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way, the remainder of the group trailing along behind.

Koti was parked in a yellow-striped zone outside the cinema, out of the car and waiting, paying not a bit of attention to parking regulations. A crowd had formed out there too, to which Drew paid absolutely no attention. Koti had the door open, and Drew set Hannah gently into the back seat, shut her door, strode around the car and got in.

A break in the traffic, and Koti was moving off, and that was it.

“Wow,” Kate said, exhaling a bit as they watched it go.
“Why
can’t she have a baby without all that excitement? I’m exhausted. I just hope she’s OK.”

“Hospital’s only twenty minutes away,” Hemi said. “I don’t think she’s actually going to have it in the car. But it won’t be long.” He turned to Reka. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeh,” she said. “I do.” She looked at Kate. “Want to go with Hemi and me to the hospital?”

“Are we going to the hospital?” Hemi asked.

“Well, yeh,” Reka said. “Obviously. I’ll feel better. And ring Drew’s mum and dad along the way. Let them know.”

“I’m coming too,” Kristen said. “Liam?”

“Of course,” he said. “Though I’m thinking right now that I want to drive you home.”

“The hospital first, though,” she said with surprise. “Don’t you want to?”

He laughed a bit. “I meant, home to Welly. In fact, we might look into a hotel room next to the hospital. Because I’m terrified.”

The three of them left, and Hugh and Josie were left standing on the pavement with Nic and Emma, Nate and Ally, and Finn and Jenna. The crowd around them hadn’t dispersed any. In fact, it had grown.

“Well,” Hugh finally said blankly, “that isn’t exactly how I pictured today going. Bit of relaxation, I thought, before the wedding. Not exactly.”

“Babies tend to have bad timing,” Emma said. “But Hannah and Drew are both so calm and collected all the time, it’s ironic that they’d be the ones to go through all that drama. You’d think they’d have better-organized babies.”

“A bit exciting, always,” Finn said. “No matter how well-organized the baby is. Nothing better than watching your baby be born, and nothing worse.”

“Nothing
worse?”
Jenna said, staring at him.

“I mean,” he hastened to say, “because you’re so helpless. You can’t do anything. Nothing but watch. And that’s…” He exhaled. “Hard.”

The moment Drew jumped in on his side, he was slamming the door shut.

“Go,” he told Koti, and Koti went.

“Grace Hospital,” Drew added. “Go down Maunganui Road to 29. That’ll be the quickest.”

“Did you…call the midwife?” Hannah gasped.

“You heard me do it, sweetheart.” He took her hand in his, feeling so helpless. Useless. What was he meant to do? He wanted to tell Koti to hurry, but he was already driving as quickly, as aggressively as he dared, and Drew could see it. Anyway, this was normal. Wasn’t it?

“This is normal, right?” he asked. If only he’d been here for the other babies, he’d know. And he’d know what he was meant to do, too. It didn’t look normal to him, because Hannah was panting now, her face strained.

It was supposed to go slower. Wasn’t it? And not be this…hard, at the beginning? They’d talked about walking around in labor, in those classes. Reading. All that. Hannah didn’t look like she was going to be doing any reading or walking. This must just be how it was, though, how it
really
was, and all he’d say was, men had got off way too easy.

People drove to hospital to have babies every day, though. Every single day. And every one of those women was in labor. Every one of them must look like this. But none of them was his wife.

She wasn’t answering, he realized. “This is normal, right?” he asked again. “Somebody? Koti?”

He got a look back in the rear-view mirror that told him Koti didn’t think it was normal at all, and his heart was hammering now.

“I don’t…know,” Hannah said on another gasp. “Not…really. Uhhh…Drew.” She had one hand on the armrest, the other squeezing the hell out of his own hand, her fingernails digging in.

“Aw, shit.” He unsnapped her seatbelt, then got behind her, pulled her against his chest and held on. He could feel the tension in her, the strain, the rock-hard belly under his palms. Her panting breath filled the car as the contraction gripped her and she struggled to breathe through it.

“How long, mate?” he asked Koti.

Koti’s eyes in the mirror again. “Fifteen minutes.”

It didn’t sound long, and yet it sounded much too long, because the anxiety was trying to take over now, the fear clawing in his chest.

They were inching through a red light, and traffic was heavy. How could the bloody traffic be this bad, two o’clock in the afternoon in Mt. Maunganui? How the bloody hell? Tourists, who needed to get out of the way. Right now.

“Uhhh…” It was Hannah again. “I think…Oh, God, Drew. I think the baby’s coming.”

“Geez. Now?”

“Now,” she said. “He’s coming now. Oh God, Drew. I can feel it. He’s coming.”

He made his decision. “Pull over,” he barked at Koti.

Koti glanced in the mirror again, didn’t argue, just swung to the side of the road and into the first clear spot. It happened to be a bus stop, which didn’t matter one bit.

“Ring 111,” Drew told him. “Tell them to get here right the hell now.” Because Hannah had a hand up under her dress, and the look on her face, the sound of her rapid, keening breath, the fact that there hadn’t been any of those quiet minutes there were supposed to be between the contractions, had already told Drew everything he needed to know.

“We’re not going to make it to the hospital, are we, sweetheart?” he asked her, shoving the fear ruthlessly down, trying to sound sure and calm. For her. “We don’t have fifteen minutes, do we?”

“No,” she said, and it was a sob. “Oh. Drew. I think…I think he’s coming. Can you…can you do this?”

“We’ll do it together,” he promised, because that was what she needed to hear, and because that was what they were going to do. “We’re having a baby. Good as gold.”

He scooted himself out of the way as he was talking, laid her down on the seat, got the door open and stood on the pavement.

Her hands were on her belly, and she was blowing breaths out in puffs now, and that wasn’t good. That was meant to happen at the end. He’d been to the class.

“What did they say?” he asked Koti, who’d got out of the car as well to stand beside him.

“Said they’re coming,” Koti said. “Just a few minutes. Any minute,” he went on hastily.

“Right, then.” Drew took a breath of his own, exhaled, worked to focus, to beat the fear back, because Hannah was doing that rapid panting again. “You got any idea what to do?”

“Yeh,” Koti said, not sounding much steadier than he was himself. “Read up on it, before Maia. Just in case. Because I was nervous.” He was nervous now too, it was clear.

“Then…what?” Drew asked, trying to stay patient, and it had never been harder. “What do I do?”

“You don’t have to do much. Just…catch the baby. Don’t pull it, don’t twist anything. You sort of…support the head, when it comes out. And catch it,” Koti repeated. “That’s what I know. Sorry, mate. That’s all I know.”

Drew nodded, leaned in, because Hannah was trying to twist around, and put a gentle hand on her belly. Rock-hard again. Still.

“Get my…underwear off,” she gasped. So he did. Soaked, of course. He dropped them on the floor, pushed her dress up. Modesty be damned. He needed to see.

“I’ll just…” Koti said.

“Don’t you dare,” Drew said fiercely. “Need you here to tell me what to do. You read it, I didn’t.”

“Right, then.” Koti blew out a long breath. “Get her closer to the…the edge. So you can get in there. Feel for the head. If it’s coming.”

Drew reached under her, pulled her towards him so one of her feet could brace itself against the car’s side column. That helped, he could tell.

“Just going to check,” he told her. He put a few gentle fingers, then his entire hand, because it fit there, inside a place that was surely wider than it was meant to stretch, but of course it had to stretch, didn’t it? And felt…something, blocking his way.

“Is this it?” he asked her. “Is this him?”

“I think so,” she managed to say. “Oh, Drew. I have to…”

“Tell her to pant again,” Koti said beside him. “Not to push hard.”

“Don’t push hard,” Drew told Hannah, feeling so helpless. How was she supposed to stop? It didn’t seem to him that she could stop.

He was right. “I…have to,” she gasped. “Ohhhh….” It was a wail, nearly a scream, and she was pushing, he could feel it.

“Put your hand over the head,” Koti was saying in Drew’s ear, leaning over next to him, his voice tight with urgency. “Don’t let it pop out too fast.”

Hannah’s entire body was straining with effort, the sweat standing out on her belly, her thighs, the red blood running, and Drew swallowed. Was that normal, or was it bad? Was she in danger? He didn’t know, and he’d never been more terrified, because she was screaming, the sound reverberating in his head, sending his pulse rate spiking even higher.

But there was something there now. Something dark. He put his hand over it, and it was his son. The top of his son’s head. He was touching his son.

Another heave, one final scream from Hannah, trailing into a wailing cry, and the head was there, and Drew was gasping along with Hannah, along with the wrinkled, screwed-up little face emerging from her.

“One more push,” he told Hannah. “He’s here, sweetheart. He’s almost all the way here. One more push and let him come.”

He had a gentle hand under the head, because he wasn’t dropping that, no matter what. Ever. He saw her gather her forces and bear down again, moaning with the pain and the effort, and there was a tiny red shoulder, and, in a gush of fluid and blood, his baby. His boy. His son.

He was here. He was born.

Drew gathered the little body in his hands as it emerged, taking care to keep a hand under his head, supporting his neck. The baby was slippery, wet, wriggling and
surprisingly strong, and he’d never caught anything with more care, not in the most important game of his career. He’d never held onto anything so desperately. Because nothing had ever mattered more.

The little chest heaved, the mouth opened, and a squall came out, high, surprisingly loud, the unmistakable cry of a newborn, and it sounded so good.

“He’s here,” he told Hannah, his voice shaking. “He’s here.”

She was still lying there, gasping and crying with effort, shaking now herself, and he wished he had something to put over her, but there was nothing. And the baby. What was he meant to do with the baby now?

“Put him on her belly,” Koti said urgently. “Against her skin. To stay warm.”

“Uh…” Drew had both hands around the baby, and Koti was the one who gently pulled Hannah’s dress further up her body, bared her from the breast down, so Drew could place the tiny body, the baby fully wailing now, wriggling angrily, onto her belly.

Her hands came up instantly to cradle him, and the baby quieted, because somehow, he knew her. He knew she had him, and that he was safe.

“The cord, though,” Drew told Koti. Because it was still there. Of course it was still there. It had to come out. Didn’t it? How did that happen? “Are we meant to cut it?”

“Leave it,” Koti said. “They’re coming. They’ll deal with it. Leave it. He’s fine, and so is she. It’s all good.”

Drew realized that was a siren in the distance, intruding at the edge of his consciousness. And that a bus had pulled up behind him, blowing its horn.