CHAPTER 13—THE DONOVAN BABY COMETH
Loralei sat up [or tried to, anyway, her stomach was humungous] and peered curiously around the room. The shades were still drawn, but Donovan wasn't beside her. It had to at least be dawn. Otherwise, her husband would still be in bed. Struggling just a little, she swung her legs over the side of the bed in a position that made a nodding acquaintance to sitting up. She was in that embarrassing awkward phase of her pregnancy, and she absolutely couldn't wait to have this baby. She had grown tired of her hugely pregnant clumsy body. She wanted her normal, albeit equally clumsy, body. She placed her hand onto her stomach as she felt the familiar kicking sensation. It appeared that her unborn daughter rather enjoyed sleeping in as well, and when Loralei arose earlier than usual, the rotten kid tended to kick the heck out of her.
"Ow," she groaned. "Knock it off in there, will you? You kick like a Missouri mule."
"Her mother is as stubborn as one."
She looked up at her husband, mocking his lifted eyebrow thing. "Her mother is stubborn? You're funny. Have you ever thought of taking your act out on the road?"
"Somebody is cranky," he said with a mischievous smile.
"No, not cranky, you're just being a wise guy. This is so unfair. Women have the periods, they carry the babies, they look like beached whales when they're pregnant, and they endure labor pains. Men just stick it in, get their jollies, and lay back."
She had recited her speech with very little malice in her voice. He shook his head and his smile expanded. "I would say I'd trade places with you," he said, and then paused for a second, "but I don't think so."
"You jerk," she said, not unkindly.
He moved to climb onto the bed behind her. His hands fell on her shoulders and he began to knead them gently. "Two more weeks. Can you hold out that long?"
She snorted. "As if I have a choice? Haven't you heard? The first baby is never on time. I could still be pregnant this time next year."
"Loralei, I think you might be exaggerating just a little."
"Who? Me? Exaggerate? Never," she said. She sighed. All the flippancy in the world couldn't put off the inevitable. "What time does your flight leave?"
"Couple of hours," he said. Donovan had made arrangements to fly back to Chicago for a couple of days to complete a little left over paperwork from the Dominguez case. He also needed to finalize his leave of absence before the baby came. "Anya is driving me to the airport in about twenty minutes."
"Yuck, I don't like the sound of that. Will you promise me something, Frank?"
He placed a kiss atop her head. "Anything."
"If you get stabbed or anything while in Chicago, please be kind enough to tell me. Okay?"
He smiled. "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"
She laughed. "Nope."
Donovan lowered his body just a bit to allow his lips to caress the side of her neck and shoulder.
"Don't even start something you can't finish," she said softly.
He groaned in mock frustration. "Oh, all right." He shifted his body again, and plopped down beside her, jostling the bed. His hand moved to the small of her back in a soothing caress.
Despite the wonderful back rub, she gave him a dirty look anyway. "Where in the hell are you getting all this damn energy, Frank? It's very annoying."
Donovan gently took hold of Loralei's arm. "Come here," he said.
"Uh uh," she protested as she tried to shrug away from his grasp. "Don't get all sexy on me right now. I'm in no condition to accommodate you," she said haughtily.
With little effort, he turned her to face him. "Loralei, come here."
She leaned toward him. "What do you want," she asked exasperated.
"This," he said as his lips took hers.
"Damn you," she whispered against his lips after the kiss was broken. "I told you not to do that."
"Can't help it," he said. "I love you too much."
She drew away from him and grabbed the robe lying at the foot of the bed. She shrugged into it and stood up. He followed her lead and drew her into his embrace. He kissed her again briefly and then laid his hand on her stomach. His touch was met with a swift kick.
"Did you tell her to do that," he asked suspiciously.
She smiled a little. "We females tend to conspire."
He leaned down just a bit and planted a gentle kiss where his hand had lain just a few moments ago. He looked up at her with yet more mischievousness gleaming in his eyes. "Are you sure there aren't two in there?"
"Oh, bite me, Donovan."
He kissed her forehead. "Maybe later. I have a plane to catch."
She took his hand and walked out with him to the living room where Anya waited. "Miss you already," she said.
He raised her hand and kissed it. "Me too," he said.
"Are you going to be okay here by yourself," Anya asked. "I could always call somebody to sit with you."
Loralei shook her head. "I'll be fine." She released Donovan's hand and stepped back away from him. "Scoot, Frank. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back."
"No more than two days," he promised.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Anya, drag your brother along. If you don't, he'll miss his flight."
Loralei followed Anya and Donovan out to Anya's car. He gave her another hug and a kiss before he finally climbed in the car. After they left, she waddled back up to the house. Ugh. Just walking across the yard tired her out. As she stepped into the living room from the foyer, she had intended to go into the bedroom to get dressed. She thought better of it. Why in the world did she need to get dressed? Where was she going? Besides, nothing fit anymore anyway. She padded into the kitchen. She suddenly had a burning yen for apple juice. Normally, she absolutely hated the stuff, but in the last month or so, it seemed as if she subsisted on it. She reached out to grasp the handle on the refrigerator and stopped abruptly as she felt a pain seize her, seemingly centering in her back. It didn't last very long, but during it, she was fairly incapacitated. She had been having those weird contractions for a while [Batton Haste…Brickton Height…or some shit she couldn't remember], but they didn't necessarily hurt. She had had a backache for a couple of hours, but nothing like this. No, she thought, it's too soon. After she recovered, she went about getting her apple juice as if nothing had happened at all.
She took her glass of juice and made her way back toward the living room again. She felt weird, as if something was acutely out of place. You're losing your mind, Loralei Donovan, she thought. She sat down on the couch, making herself as comfortable as she could and sipped tentatively at her juice. Oddly enough, five minutes ago, she had wanted that juice more than anything. However, once she took the first sip, it was suddenly distasteful. Her back ached miserably, as if there were a rock stuck in there somewhere. Nearly gagging on the apple juice now, she set the glass aside and clumsily drew her legs beneath her body. She intended to rest for just a little while until Anya came back. However, her nap was short-lived. About ten minutes after she closed her eyes, she felt a second pain. This is insane. She wasn't due for two more weeks. What the hell? The pain subsided after half a minute. A little nervous now, she stood up and began pacing the room a little. She wondered why she felt the urge to move. It wouldn't chase anything away. Only when the third pain hit did Loralei finally accept that her child didn't give a damn about time lines. Vaguely, she wondered how close Donovan was to the airport.
Loralei turned to get to the phone hanging in the kitchen, but some idiot knocked on the door. Ugh. This better not be Avon calling, she thought. When she turned toward the storm door, she could see that her caller was not the friendly neighborhood Avon lady. It was Farron. Farron's relationship with her husband was strained, but at least nonviolent. However, Loralei didn't quite trust him yet. She had steered clear of him when he visited, but now she had no choice but to face him. By now, she was convinced she was in labor, or pretty damn close to it, and she had no time to fart around with her brother in-law. Her mind was set on finding her husband.
She made her way to the door slowly, stupidly figuring that if she didn't walk fast, no pain would seize her. "Neither Anya nor Frank is here right now," she said as she opened the door. "She took him to the airport."
Farron noted that she didn't look well. Her face was strained. "Are you all right," he asked.
"Sure," she said, lying. She didn't feel even close to all right. "I'll tell Anya you stopped by."
"Loralei, I know you don't like me, and I can't blame you. But I want to make things right with you as well as my brother. Frank and I are trying to repair our brother bond, and I'd like to make amends to you any way I can. What I did was stupid and foolish, and Frank paid me well for that deed."
"Farron, I feel really rotten right now, and I'm in no mood to converse. Would you-" Her voice was cut off abruptly as another pain took hold. Ten, ten, and five. Good God, she thought.
Concerned now, Farron took gentle hold of her forearm. "Loralei? You're not all right."
"No shit," she spat once the pain subsided again. "I can't be in labor, I still have two more weeks."
"You must go to the hospital," he said. "Come with me, my car is right outside."
"No," she said stubbornly, "I need to find Frank."
"There may not be time for that. Please, Loralei, come with me. I don't care if you like me, hate me, or mistrust me. Let me help. Once you're at the hospital, I'll find Frank, I promise."
She wanted to deny him, wanted to go her own way, but he was right. She wasn't due for two weeks, and something might be wrong. She had carried this baby far too long, had loved her far too long to lose her now. "Okay," she spat grudgingly.
* * *
Anya was just about to leave her brother, but she heard his name being announced over the PA system. Donovan glanced back at his sister as if thinking 'was I paged?' Without a word, Anya nodded. Donovan and Anya went in search of the phone. He felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach at the thought of being tracked here. He was certain that something had happened to his wife.
"Donovan," he barked into the phone.
"Frank, it's Farron. How soon can you get to the hospital?"
Panic threatened to seize his heart and squeeze the life out of it. "Hospital," he spat stupidly. "Loralei?"
"Yes. It appears that your child intends to make an earlier appearance than expected. Your wife is in labor, and right now, she refuses to give birth until you get there," he said, his voice slightly exasperated.
"Refuses to give birth," he spat. "What the hell is she saying? Goddamn, regardless of how stubborn she is, she can't control this." Why am I still standing here, he thought. "Call and tell her I'm on my way." He had no idea that Farron had taken his wife to the hospital. He hung up and turned to his sister. "Give me your keys, I have to get to Loralei. The baby is coming."
* * *
When Donovan arrived at the hospital, he didn't even see his brother. He was focused solely on finding Loralei. She lay on a hospital bed and looked so very uncomfortable. According to the OB/GYN, she wasn't far from active labor. The doctor was only slightly concerned about the thirty-four week delivery, but didn't expect any complications, especially since she was brought in so early. Currently, she was relatively coherent and not quite combative. However, he was certain that would change any time. Donovan went to her bedside and kissed her forehead.
Loralei smiled a little. "It seems as if she didn't want you to leave, either."
"No," he said. "How long were you in pain before you came?"
She shrugged. "I didn't really notice. I wanted to find you, but Farron insisted I come to the hospital. Kinda glad he did, she's a little early."
"Farron brought you here?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I didn't want to, but he pushed."
* * *
"So, Daddy, here's your girl," the doctor said as she handed the infant to Donovan.
He took his tiny six-pound daughter into his arms and indescribable emotions flooded through him. In his arms was an extension of himself and the woman he loved, and he couldn't move, think, speak, or breathe. Was it shock or the paralyzing hold of love? The slight weight of her body felt heavenly. Overwhelming emotion overtook him, and tears began to touch his cheeks.
* * *
Farron and Anya looked up as Donovan entered the waiting room. He was still decked out in the ridiculous looking blue surgical gown.
"Frank? Are they okay," Anya asked as both she and Farron stood.
He nodded. For a moment, he couldn't speak. He was afraid he'd start crying again. "They're just fine," he finally said, "and stunningly beautiful. We're calling her Rachel." He approached Farron. "You brought her here for me?"
Farron nodded. "Yes. Since the baby was early, I thought it best that she come now instead of waiting. I didn't want anything to go wrong."
Donovan stunned Farron [and Anya as well] when he hugged him for the first time in years. "Thank you," he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "I will never forget this."
THE END(There may be another story in this series shortly, but there's that little thing called a plot! Thanks for all your reviews and following Loralei and Frank through yet another adventure).