She clutches my shirt again as two nurses appear at my door that Raul opens. They have a wheelchair ready but get one look at Mercedes, who honestly looks a little wild, and turn to me for instruction.
“Honey,” I start. “Let’s get you in that chair so the nurses can—”
“If you call me honey or sweetheart one more fucking time, I’m going to kill you. Get the fuck out of my way!”
I nod, hearing Raul’s chuckle, which he’s quick to hide when I look his way, and help my wife out of the car and into the wheelchair.
“No epidural,” I tell the nurses as we rush in. “It’s in her birth plan. I have it…” I look around, realizing I must have still forgotten the case. I set it down to get her into the car. It’s probably still just outside the house.
“Yes, epidural. I changed my mind!” Mercedes yells.
“It’s the pain talking,” I tell the nurses. “She was adamant—”
Mercedes swivels her head toward me Exorcist-like, and I shut my mouth. “You fucking asshole,” she says, voice low and a little terrifying. “I am birthing not one but two of your little monsters. You think you can dictate if I get a fucking epidural?”
“No, sweetheart. You can get what you want. Anything you want.” Because right now, I’m honestly a little afraid of her.
She nods as the nurses wheel her into her private room. It’s the one we arranged for, another perk of The Society. I stand back as her doctor rushes through the door and watch, stunned, from my place in the corner as they get her set up and the doctor checks how far she is.
Another contraction hits, and I want to warn the doctor, but she seems unfazed.
“Judge!” Mercedes calls out, extending her hand.
I hurry to her side and hold on to her, kissing her forehead, wiping away the sweat.
“You’re halfway there, Mercedes,” the doctor happily announces, standing and wiping off her hands. She then gets a look at my wife’s face.
“Halfway? Are you kidding?”
The woman looks at me, but just then, Solana comes flying through the door, and Mercedes seems relieved. Solana goes to her other side and hugs her, placing her bag down. She takes candles from it, setting them on the table beside the bed while talking quietly to Mercedes, who seems to be listening and calming.
“Where’s the music?” Solana asks me after a quick search of the room.
“I forgot the suitcase,” I confess.
“You forgot the suitcase?” Mercedes explodes. “You had one thing to do. One thing while I push your babies out of my body, and you forgot?”
Solana grins happily. “It’s okay, sweetie. I have us covered.” She reaches once again into her giant bag and produces a small speaker. A moment later, soothing New Age music is playing. She holds my gaze over Mercedes’s head but addresses Mercedes. “Why is it the men are so big and strong while depositing their seed but go green when the time comes to reap what they sow?”
Mercedes looks up at me and laughs, then cries with the pain of a new contraction.
“Judge, go get her some ice chips. Go on. Out.”
I nod, grateful to Solana, and find Georgie outside. He takes one look at me, and I wonder if I look like he does. Pale and completely out of our element.
“Ice chips?” I ask him. Why do I ask him?
“Ice chips. Yes. I’ll ask a nurse.” He goes to the station, and I see how his hair is ruffled, and he must have pulled clothes on over top of his pajamas. I look down at myself. I am wearing jeans and a shirt that’s wrinkled from Mercedes twisting it and from me sleeping in it. I wanted to be ready to go, so I’ve been sleeping fully dressed for the past week. Mercedes laughed at the idea.
A nurse returns with Georgie. She takes a look at me and grins knowingly. “Here you go. Your wife will be grateful for these.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the cup. “You coming?” I ask Georgie wondering why the fuck I’m asking him. Almost as though he’d be my ally.
“Hell no. I hear her fine from out here.”
The nurse chuckles, and I reenter the room where, over the next few hours, Mercedes goes through what I can imagine to be horrific pain without agreeing to the epidural I would have taken hours ago. I know she’s hoping for a natural birth without a C-section, which may not be possible with twins. But I don’t know why I even think that when I hear the first little cry of a brand-new voice. Because if anyone can do this, can bend fate to their will, it’s my wife.
And as Ariana is handed to me while the doctor attends to her brother, I feel my own eyes well with emotion.
Lawson joins us just moments later, and it’s as though he’s searching for his sister, desperate to be reunited with her because he wails, his little face bright pink with anger until they are weighed, wiped down, and swaddled, then laid on their mother’s breast where he worms his spindly little arm out of the swaddle to lay his hand on his sister’s cheek.
It’s only then they quiet. And fuck. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.