"Are you okay?" Sam whispered into his wife's ear in the dark movie theater where they sat. He reached out a hand to gently rub her extremely pregnant belly.
"53," was Mercedes' reply. She didn't even turn her head away from the screen, where the thriller they'd been watching was at its most intense scene yet. She already knew the worried expression he'd be sporting and she wasn't about to miss the villain administering a beat down so she could convince Sam she was alright—again.
"What?" Sam asked, confused. He eyed her warily, as he'd been doing for the last few days. She'd had a few pains that felt like contractions earlier that week and Sam, who'd been cool and collected her entire pregnancy, had officially started to unravel then.
He'd immediately carted her overnight bag into the car then had come back for her, leading her in breathing exercises the entire way. He'd gripped her hand tightly and Mercedes had wondered who the breathing exercises were helping more as she took in his nervous expression.
It'd all been all for naught in the end, as the doctor had revealed it'd been a false alarm. Mercedes had barely been over 1cm dilated, nowhere near ready to go into labor. The entire event had done it for Sam, however, and he'd been a worrywart ever since, fussing over her at every turn—"Do you need anything? Are you sure? Maybe a glass of water? How about a snack? Do you wanna lie down? A massage? Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?" She'd even found herself humming Smooth Criminal a few times in the last couple of days as a result.
Mercedes had counted 52 'are you okays' since that day, until the one he'd just uttered.
"53?" Sam prompted at her continued silence.
"The number of times you've asked me if I'm okay this week," Mercedes said, finally turning to look at him. "52 of which I've told you I'm fine," Mercedes said drawing out the last word.
"And what's your answer this time?" Sam asked.
Mercedes wanted to groan, but she took in the genuinely nervous expression and sighed. "I'm fine, Sam. Stop worrying," she said reaching forward to cup his cheek and pressing her lips to his briefly.
He opened his mouth to speak again. Mercedes was sure an 'are you sure' was on the way, but he seemed to decide and against it and settled for putting his arm around her, pulling her in close as he turned back to the movie. She covered his hand that still rested on her belly with her hand and turned back to the film as well.
As frustrating as his worrying was at times, she understood how much of a stressful situation this was for him. He wasn't physically having the baby—the thought made her giggle—but this was all just as irrevocably life-changing for him as it was for her. Truth be told, she appreciated the fact that he took such care of her, even if he did tend to overdo it.
Mike wasn't even in town to help Sam keep his stress levels down. His best friend had taken off that week to choreograph Beyonce's performance for the upcoming VMAs and wasn't scheduled to be back until late that night. It couldn't have been worse timing with everything going on. Sam really needed his calming influence.
She was just about to squeeze his hand affectionately when she felt it, and she gasped. This had been her worst nightmare since she'd gotten to the later stages of her pregnancy and her bladder had gone a bit unstable with the added pressure. She couldn't believe she'd peed her pants even the little bit that she had. She pulled away from Sam, telling him she had to use the bathroom—not even stopping to side-eye him when he asked if he should go along.
She stood up and gasped as she felt more leaking. Embarrassed, she sprinted as fast as a 9 month pregnant woman could sprint to the bathroom, thanking the lord for her dark colored pants as the leaking turned to a full out flow by the time she reached the bathroom.
She was thankful to find the restrooms empty and immediately entered a stall. The trickle stopped as soon as she sat and Mercedes rolled her eyes. Honestly, all of that and when she finally was in the right place, her bladder had decided it was done. She sighed and stood up, only to have the leak start again.
Sitting down, it stopped. Mercedes tried this several times with the same results. She couldn't leave the bathroom, and she'd dumbly forgotten to take her purse with her when she ran so she couldn't call Sam. She was pretty sure she knew what was happening and she was mortified.
In her distress, she didn't even notice the time ticking by as she tried to figure out what to do. It wasn't until she heard a woman come inside and call her name that she calculated how long she must have been gone.
"Mrs. Evans?" the woman called. "Mercedes Evans?"
"I'm in here," Mercedes said from her stall, not daring to come out.
"Um, I'm Lisa. I work here at the theater. There's a gentlemen outside, his name is Sam. He said his really pregnant wife had to go to the bathroom and she never came back. He's pretty worried. He'd like to know if you're okay."
"Um," Mercedes started weakly. "I know it's against your policy, but the room's empty. Could you let him come in for a moment? I think something's wrong."
She heard nothing but the sound of the door opening and closing for a moment. The sound repeated again and then Sam's frantic voice filled the room, calling her name, only breaking his panic to comment on how clean the ladies' room was in comparison to the mens'.
"Sam," Mercedes called out, pulling his attentions away from the cleanliness of the restroom and to more important matters—like the fact that she was pretty sure she was about to deliver her firstborn in the bathroom of a movie theater. The idea was not appealing, no matter how clean the rooms actually were.
She could already hear the lead ins on the news. 'Movie goers were in for a real double feature tonight as Pop/R&B starlet Mercy J. delivered her firstborn in the theater bathroom. We'll have that story for you at the top of the hour.' No. Mercedes shuddered at the thought. She refused!
Sam was at the door in an instant and Mercedes unlatched it so he could come inside. "Babe," he said looking in on her in askance. He took in the panicked look on her face and immediately sported a matching expression. "What's wrong?"
"Okay, don't freak out. I think my water just broke," Mercedes said as calmly as she could, not wanting a repeat of that morning. Getting out of here and to the hospital relied on Sam being able to maintain his sanity.
"Oh my God," Sam said, his eyes immediately widening to the size of saucers. "Oh my God." She would have laughed at Sam's startled expression if not for the baby possibly making its way into the world at that very moment. She was losing him and she couldn't have that.
"I said don't freak out!" she hissed. "You have to help me out of here and get me to the hospital. I'm not having a baby here!"
Sam gulped, but got himself under control. His face was a flurry of emotions as she went on to explain what she'd been experiencing the last few moments. Thankfully, he'd seemingly settled on courageous by the time she was finished, and helped her up.
The uncomfortable trickling started up again and Mercedes resolved herself for the walk of shame she was going to have to make out of the theater. A few tweets about how Mercy J. might have peed her pants was a lot less embarrassing than a national headline. She'd been dreading this happening in public ever since she and Tina had discussed water-breaking with the women at Lamaze class and she couldn't believe it was.
They emerged from the bathroom and Mercedes was mortified to find a small group of employees and disgruntled women who'd been kept from the room staring at them. As if her wet pants hadn't been embarrassing enough, her shoes squished loudly with every step she took and she could definitely see the murmurs growing as people started to recognize who she was.
Thankfully, Sam went into protection mode, shielding his wife from unwanted pictures and escorting her as quickly as he could out to the car. Once there, he laid out the blanket they usually kept in the trunk on the passenger seat and helped her sit. "Are you okay?" he asked her and she granted him this one quarter.
"Yes, baby. I'm fine, but I'm not having the baby in the parking lot either," she said, giggling when he broke out into a chuckle. He kissed her quickly and looked at her for a brief moment and Mercedes could see the full spectrum of emotions that played across his face. She squeezed his hand reassuringly then sat back as he let go and closed the door, making his way around to the driver's seat and climbing in.
Mercedes focused on her breathing, rubbing her belly as she waited for Sam to start the car. She waited...waited...and waited some more before she realized that Sam had gone completely silent and still after he closed the car door. Her eyes snapped to his face, ready to chew him out—she really wasn't about to have her baby in the parking lot of Movieworld—but the look of terror on his face coupled with the knuckle-whitening death grip he held on the steering wheel gave her pause.
She softened immediately, reaching for his hand, prying it off the steering wheel and running her thumb gently over his knuckles. "Hey," she whispered, winning his attention from the brooding thoughts in his head. "Are you okay?" she asked, echoing the same question he'd been asking her the last few days.
He stared at her in silence for a moment, his piercing green eyes searching her face for a long moment before he broke out into a crooked grin. "This is it," he said quietly.
Mercedes couldn't contain her resulting smile, despite the twinges of pain now emanating from her belly. She put it aside for a moment, determined to share the moment with him. "Yup," she said with a quiet giggle, running her fingers through his blond hair. "Ready or not."
"I'm ready," he assured her propelling his face forward to place an affectionate kiss on her lips. "I love you so much," he professed against her lips and Mercedes' immediate requite of that sentiment was swallowed in their next kiss.
"Okay," Mercedes said, pulling away suddenly after a moment, as a particularly painful contraction ripped through her. "We gotta go."
The panic was back in Sam's gaze as she bore down on his hand and breathed through it. "Now!" Mercedes ordered and Sam got the car started in an instant.
Mercedes breathed harshly through her nose as they started barreling toward the hospital and the epidural that she'd already made the doctor promise to after a particularly grueling day of watching birthing videos with Tina that had resulted in a lot of tears and both girls assuring their husbands that sex would be cancelled until further notice after that—Mike and Sam had obviously been the ones shedding the bulk of the tears after that revelation.
"Are you o—?"
"Don't!" Mercedes cut Sam off before he even started.
"Okay," Sam said. "That's indication enough," he said nodding harshly and breathing through the death grip Mercedes currently had on his hand.
Mercedes went back to focusing on even breaths, exhaling in a whoosh as the pain finally subsided for a moment.
"SHIT!" Sam exclaimed suddenly, startling them both.
"What?" Mercedes asked—seeing no cause for his sudden outburst and the crushed look on his face as he drove on.
"I'm not wearing my suit," he told her in all seriousness and Mercedes couldn't even contain it.
Her raucous laughter rang through the car for the entirety of the following three minutes—until the next contraction hit.
A/N: Cam is coming and Sam is not wearing his embroidered suit! The horror. No worries—if you were worried at all lol—there will be a part two...um, at some point. Leave me a review if you liked this...cause I like them. What do you think will happen next? Alls I gotta say is Cam is not the only one and Sam is in for it.
