Gayle places a hand flat on the wall to brace herself and steps down from the ladder. "What do you think?"
Winona smiles as she studies the pattern of prancing horses, cowboy hats, and boots parading around the border high on the nursery wall. The same pattern, smaller, dots the dark blue crib sheet and the curtains hanging from the two narrow windows. Better yet, Gayle is the one who found all of it, marked down, at a department store in Louisville. Whether it's what she intended or not, Winona sees it as her sister's peace offering to Raylan and an unspoken blessing on this new re-marriage. "It's perfect. Thank you."
"Good. I'm glad you like it." She says, wiping her hands on a wet towel hanging from the door knob. "I think it looks good with the lighter shade of blue you painted the walls"
"I'm glad you could come over to put it up. Painting is one thing, but I can only imagine the damage Raylan would've done with wallpaper paste." The sisters exchange grins.
Gayle admires her own work. "I like to do this kind of stuff." Winona knows that's true, and Gayle certainly has experience. She redecorates her own house frequently, on the slightest whim, usually despite Peter's protests.
"You're sure the landlord doesn't mind? They can be pretty picky."
"He told us to do whatever we wanted as far as painting and stuff." She chews at her bottom lip. "I think he's hoping we'll buy it eventually."
"Do you think you might?"
"Raylan thinks it's more room than we need and too much money." Pressing a hand to the small of her back she pads out of the room and down the hall. Gayle follows her into the living room.
"Your back still bothering you?" Stepping close, Gayle begins rubbing in slow circles.
Winona leans into the back of the couch and relishes the slow release of the tight muscles under her sister's hands. "That feels good."
Gayle increases the pressure, using her thumbs to dig into a knot at the base of Winona's spine. "It must run in the family. My back hurt like crazy before the kids were born."
"I'll pay you to stay here and do that until Raylan gets home," Winona sighs.
Gayle chuckles. "I wish I could stay. You sure you're feeling alright? Besides the back, I mean, you've been awfully quiet today. Things are okay with you and Raylan aren't they? He isn't..."
"Things are fine, Gayle," Winona says, easing down onto the couch. "I cleaned all day so I'm tired, and my back hurts, and I'm cranky. I just want to have this baby."
"Well, you're about as ready as you can be, but if you're anything like me, you'll go past your due date." Gayle glances around, her eyes stopping on the boxes of Christmas decorations stacked in the corner. "Do you want me to put some of this stuff out before I go? Where are you going to put the tree?"
"We aren't going to use that one. Raylan wants to get a real tree. He doesn't like artificial trees."
Gayle purses her lips. "Well, that's just silly. A real tree isn't practical when you're gonna have a new baby. You'll be so busy and distracted that no one will remember to water it. There'll be needles all over the floor and a dry tree is a fire hazard."
"It's not a big deal, Gayle."
Her sister turns, hands on her hips and levels a familiar gaze at Winona. The one that makes her feel like she's seven again. "Seems to me that you're letting Raylan have his way about everything. Is that the way it's going to be this time? Are you so desperate to be with him that you're just going to let him walk all..."
"Stop." Winona tips her head back and closes her eyes. "Just stop."
She feels the cushions sink as Gayle sits beside her. "Sorry," her sister says after a few moments. "I'm happy for you, really I am. For both of you." She reaches for Winona's hand and gives it a squeeze.
"It's okay," Winona says, squeezing back. "I guess we're both formidable women."
"We're what?" Gayle laughs. "Formidable women? What does that mean?"
Winona scoots back on the cushions, wishing she could pull her knees up and curl into the corner, wishing she could find any position that was comfortable. Sometimes she can barely remember what it was like to have a body that belonged to her, without the increasingly unpleasant reminders that she is occupied territory. "Henry says that I tend to..." the baby kicks harder than usual, and she shifts, pressing a hand against her abdomen. She rethinks her choice of words. "All this counseling has made me realize that I can be a little bossy."
Gayle snorts. "A little?"
Winona laughs. "Like you have any room to talk."
Gayle doesn't argue. "Formidable. I think I like that. It sounds better than bossy, anyway." She pats Winona's leg and pushes up from the couch. "I'd better get going. Peter is picking the kids up from school, but Emma has dance tonight." She looks down at her sister. "Why don't you stretch out and take a nap. You've done an awful lot today and you're gonna need all the sleep you can get."
Winona nods. "Maybe I will." She yawns. "Thanks for all your help today. I just wanted to make sure everything was ready."
Gayle leans in and kisses her cheek. "Don't get up. I'll let myself out. Call me later."
Winona is already half-asleep when the door clicks softly behind her.
-o-o-O-o-o-
The gray December sky seems to have descended onto the road as Raylan makes his way back from posting notices on some confiscated property north of Lexington. The early evening fog is thick enough that he flips on his low beams, easing his foot off the accelerator.
When his cell phone buzzes he's happy for the new Bluetooth Art assigned to all the deputies that allows him to keep both hands on the wheel.
"Givens," he says.
"Raylan?" There's a high-pitched anxious tone to Winona's voice. "Where are you?"
"About twenty miles outside of town, why? You okay?"
"My back has been hurting all day and I think I might be in labor."
His heart rate doubles in an instant and the car seems very warm. He pushes the button to crack the window and takes a deep breath. This isn't unexpected. Her due date is only two weeks away and the doctor told them it could be anytime. They're ready for this. "You sure it's not those fake contractions again?" They were sent home from the emergency room last week because of those.
"It doesn't feel like it. This feels different. Ohhhh..." She gasps and breathes heavily into the phone.
He peers into the mist and speeds up as much as he dares. "Have Gayle drive you to the hospital and I'll meet you there."
"Gayle left a couple of hours ago. She had to take Emma to dance," she says, her voice tight. "I'd drive myself but..."
"No. Don't do that. Stay where you are. It's gettin' foggy. I'll be there as soon as I can. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes," he assures her.
"Okay," she breathes. "But hurry. I'm nothaving this baby in the living room."
"That's not going to happen," he says, reassuring her. "It's probably gonna be awhile. I'm on my way."
He clicks off and speeds up again, hitting the brake just in time as taillights appear in front of him. Both lanes of traffic are stopped. Swearing under his breath he pulls to the berm of the road and inches along to the next exit, taking the ramp onto an unfamiliar dimly lit road. It's going to take longer going through town, but it's better than sitting in traffic for God knows how long. Maybe she should call an ambulance, just in case. He hits the redial button on the phone. It rings and rings, but she doesn't answer.
Worried, he calls three more times as he weaves the car through the evening traffic, but there's still no answer. The fog isn't nearly as bad in town, but between overly cautious drivers and holiday shoppers, it's almost thirty minutes by the time he pulls into the driveway.
"Winona!" He calls as he rushes through the front door. He spies her cell phone on the couch, green light blinking with missed calls. He scoops it up and heads for the kitchen. "Winona! Where the hell are you?" This house is too damn big. He takes long strides down the hall, past the room they'll use for the nursery, calling her name.
In their bedroom, still crowded with plastic tubs of clothing, the bathroom door is open, light streaming out. Her voice comes, breathless, somewhere between a groan and a sob. "Raylan? I'm in here."
When he peers into the bathroom, his stomach drops. Winona is on the floor, knees up, back pressed against the wall, her damp hair hanging down to her shoulders. She's clutching a blue towel that barely wraps around her bulging belly. Her eyes wide and frightened. "I think he's coming. This is a lot faster than they said it would be." Another wave of pain over takes her and she closes her eyes and bites her lip, tears streaming down her face.
"Shit!" Raylan crouches beside her on the floor, his fingers fumbling over the buttons on her unfamiliar cell phone. "What are you doing in here anyway? I tried to call."
"I wanted to take a shower and wash my hair!" She sobs. "I didn't want to go to the hospital all grungy..."
The corners of his mouth turn up unbidden and her eyes blaze. "Don't you dare laugh, Raylan Givens!
"I'm not laughing," he says, dipping his head and punching the three numbers into the phone.
"Then my water broke in the shower and the towel won't even go all the way around me and you have to get me something to put on before we leave and..." She hiccups another sob and closes her eyes.
"We aren't goin' anywhere, at least not on our own. I'm callin' an ambulance."
Thankfully, his call goes through and the operator answers.
"911 what is your emergency?" The operator's voice echoes off the tile.
"We...my...my...wife is havin' a baby," he stutters, momentarily stunned by the reality of his words.
"What is the address?"
He can't come up with the house number. He mouths the question to Winona and she rattles it off.
"I'm sending an ambulance."
Another contraction hits Winona hard and she cries out.
"But...I mean...I think she's havin' the baby right now." He's never felt so helpless.
"Okay, okay," the operator's voice goes calm and soothing. "Is this her first baby?"
"Yes."
"How far along is she?"
"Pretty damn far, I'd say." Raylan snaps.
"I mean how many weeks along?"
"Um...she's due the end of next week."
"All right. We've got an ambulance on their way to you. Do you have a watch?"
"Yes."
"I want you to time the next contraction."
When it hits a few minutes later, Winona grimaces again, breathing heavily, and he watches the seconds tick away. "That one was a little more than a minute."
"Okay...put the phone on speaker. You need to check for me. Can you see the baby's head?"
They didn't cover this in the childbirth class. He's supposed to be holding Winona's hand and telling her what a great job she's doin', and letting the doctor do her job. But the doctor isn't here, so if it's happening now it has to be him. Winona gasps again as he lifts the towel to check.
"I can't see much of anything," he tells the operator. It's the truth, but he didn't look that close.
"Okay...okay...can you wash your hands or use sanitizer?"
He nods affirmative, rising to turn on the water, then realizes she can't hear him. "I'm washin' my hands now."
"Alright, when they're clean, just feel around."
He follows her directions, keeping his eyes on Winona's as he reaches down.."Yeah, I can feel somethin' there." He says to the operator.
"You need to get a towel or a blanket under her and something to cover the baby with so it doesn't get cold."
"I'll be right back," he says to Winona.
She grabs at his hand. "Raylan, don't you dareleave me alone."
"You aren't alone," the operator says. "My name is Marie and I'm right here. He's just going to get something to make you more comfortable."
"The only thing that's going to make me more comfortable is being at the hospital where I'm supposed to be," she sobs.
"We'll get you there," Marie soothes. "Bring a pillow, too," she suggests to Raylan.
He gathers the supplies from the bedroom, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the chair. Back in the bathroom he puts the pillow behind her and helps Winona settle onto the blanket.
"You should wash your hands again," Marie says.
Another contraction hits Winona as he's drying off. "Owwww! Goddamn it, that hurts!" She glares up at Raylan. "I was supposed to have an epidural, dammit."
"I know, I know," he soothes.
"This is all your fault," she mutters through clenched jaws. "You did this to me."
"My fault?" He hisses. "You were the one who..." He stops himself. This is what they talked about in the childbirth classes. They had some fancy name for it, but what he remembers is that right now she's frustrated and in pain and focusing all her energy on being pissed off at him. He oughta be used to that. This should be a breeze.
"Listen," Marie says, her voice serious. "The ambulance is stuck in traffic because of this fog. As close as her contractions are, it looks like this baby is going to get here before they do."
"No, no, no!" Winona shakes her head and turns a tear-streaked face to him. "I don't want to have our baby on the bathroom floor...I want to go to the hos..." Another pain takes over and she grips his offered hand hard. "Okay," she breathes after it passes. "Okay."
"If she feels like she needs to push, tell her it's okay to push. You can do this," the operator says.
Raylan leans over, his face close to Winona's. "You can push. Go ahead. It's okay. I'm here and the ambulance is on its way. It's okay. Think of the story we'll have to tell him."
"You and your damn stories," Winona mutters, but she nods, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Next one, have her push. Just guide the head out and support it."
The next contraction comes quickly and he doesn't have time to think before the baby's head is in his hands and Winona is grunting and crying, pounding her fist on the floor. "Okay, I've got it," he says.
"It should start to turn slightly so the shoulder can come out..."
Before the operator finishes her sentence Winona screams, pushing hard, and his son slides all the way out, warm and slick. The baby makes a hiccuping sound and his wailing fills the small room.
"Sounds like we have a baby," Marie says. "Congratulations. You can lay him on Mama's stomach. Don't worry about cleaning him up, just keep them both warm. The ambulance should be there in a few minutes."
"Let me see him. Let me see him," Winona demands. "Is he alright?" She raises up on one elbow.
Raylan stares at the baby, speechless, his heart pounding.
"Raylan," Winona prods. "Is he okay?"
"He's perfect." His hands shake as he lays him on her stomach and tucks the blanket over him.
He wraps another blanket around Winona's shoulders and shifts, leaning against the wall beside her. They both stare at the baby, his tiny fingers curled into a fist. His eyes are bright and blue and he has a shock of dark hair slicked against his head. Winona strokes the baby's head with a finger. "You're right, he is perfect," she murmurs.
"Yeah," he says, leaning in to kiss her. "And you aren't bad yourself. You did great."
She smiles at him through new tears. "So did you," she says, her voice warm and husky. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here."
"I promised you I would be," he reminds her. The sound of sirens approaches. "I'd better let 'em in so we can get the two of you to the hospital."
-o-o-O-o-o-
A/N To quote Gone With the Wind "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies!" So this chapter was a challenge. I knew how I wanted it to happen, so I did some online research (always dangerous) and plotted it out as best I could. I hope those of you who have actually gone through childbirth find it at least somewhat plausible.
Merry Christmas and thanks to those of you who have stuck with this story!