"Insert Slot A into Slot B. Really isn't as hard as you're making it cousin." Patrick teased as he flipped through the instruction manual. Aunt Laura had sent them over to put Lulu's old crib up for Bobbie's new baby. It hadn't been a suggestion; Laura had said, in no uncertain terms, that it was time for her boys to grow up and act like the men she had raised them to be. Besides, it wasn't as if they had to deal with Cruz on top of everything else: he was on his way back from his home in Albany.
"Then you find either Slot A or Slot B." Lucky retorted.
"The box says it's easy to assemble." Patrick shot back, digging through the pile of white wooden pieces while still holding onto the manual. "It has to be here somewhere."
"Easy to assemble?" Lucky snorted. "Such the kiss of death. I think that's code for impossible to do without an engineer present."
"Damn. I forgot my hard hat." Patrick dropped his fist to his side in an exaggerated motion. "It can't be that hard. Uncle Luke got it together once before."
"I think I remember Uncle Tony, and Robert Scorpio coming to help." Lucky shrugged. "But I think there was drinking involved that day."
"And I bet Cruz has the fridge stocked with Corona." Patrick made a face of disgust.
"Not if he knows what's good for him." Bobbie announced from her place in the doorway, causing both her nephews to jump. Laughing she sat down on the edge of the remaining guest bed. "You boys didn't have to do this right now you know."
"Tell that to mom." Lucky muttered.
Patrick didn't think, just acted. His hand rose of its own accord and smacked Lucky upside the head.
"Like you weren't thinking it." Lucky accused.
"It's not a problem, Aunt Bobbie. We didn't have to work today." Patrick spoke up, discarding the wooden piece next to the unfinished crib.
"Where's Cameron?" Bobbie wondered. "I would have thought you would bring him with you."
"He's with Mom." Lucky explained. "Someone," he glared in Patrick's direction "gave her this crazy idea I wasn't going to leave the house ever again without him."
"You needed a break. You were two days away from a Martha Stewart meltdown." Patrick insisted, throwing the manual on top of the pile.
"Don't you need that?" Bobbie wondered slightly worried. She remembered well the late nights she, Laura, and Amy had put in after Luke and his friends had discarded the manual.
"We know what we are doing Aunt Bobbie." Lucky reassured her.
"How are you feeling?" Patrick asked, deciding that any distraction from the crib was welcome.
"The morning sickness isn't as bad as I remember. Although Cruz probably wishes his would pass."
Lucky's eyebrows almost shot right off his head. "Cruz is having morning sickness?" he asked, almost succeeding in keeping the laugh out of his voice.
"Sympathy pains." Bobbie explained. "It happens."
"Sympathy pains?" Patrick managed before he fell onto his back and cackled wildly. "What's next? Are you going to have to put him in a wheelchair when the big day comes?"
Lucky tried to keep from laughing but it was too much. Images of scenes from that Father of the Bride sequel Lulu made him watch years ago began to dance before his mind. "You'll have to remind him to breathe."
Bobbie shook her head at their antics. Laura may have forced them to come over and help, but they were here. It was a start. The next step would be to get them in the same room with Cruz. Obviously surprising them on Cameron and Lance's play date had not been her best idea but she would think of something. "Excuse me boys. I'll be right back."
Lucky returned his attention the piles of boards and tools they were using to assemble the crib. Picking up the instruction manual, he squinted at it. "Are we sure this is the English version?"
"I'm not even sure if they printed it right-side up." Patrick grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face.
Lucky sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He would much rather be sitting watching Sponge Bob than this. "Ok lets start from the beginning. Step one - open box. Well at least we've mastered that much."
"It's like I always say: directions are for imbeciles. You haven't suffered a brain injury between last night and this morning have you?" Patrick asked, his eyes smiling.
The retort Lucky was about to let fly died on his lips and his fingers froze as he flipped the bird. Bobbie's timid voice called out to them from down the hall. Her tone was soft, but it did nothing to hide the fear from their ears. Lucky and Patrick locked eyes as her request bounced off the walls. "Boys. I need you to take me to the hospital. Now."
The only thing that separated the obstetrics floor from the pediatric floor was the art, Lucky decided. The pediatric floor had cartoon characters and artwork done by patients. At this very second he was staring at a picture detailing the effects of smoking while pregnant had on the baby. If given the choice, he much preferred to look at the artwork three floors up.
Bobbie had been rushed in to see Dr. Lansing as soon as they came out of the elevators. The doctor had looked at them briefly and ordered them to wait there. It had been fifteen minutes ago, and there was no word since. Lucky clutched at his cell phone in his hand. Bobbie had sworn it was nothing, less than nothing, and they weren't to worry the entire family, but Lucky couldn't shake the feeling this was something. Granted he hadn't seen Jess's pregnancy day in and day out, but he knew that a person shouldn't be bleeding.
"Have you gotten a hold of him yet?" Lucky questioned.
"No." Patrick shook his head angrily. "His god damn voicemail message keeps clicking on. Of all the times to have his phone turned off." He wasn't a strong man, he could admit to himself. He didn't have the ability to comfort anyone when it came to something this serious. He was just as terrified as Lucky, wondering if, when he had wished none of this was true--Bobbie and Cruz, them having a baby, etc--he had gotten his wish. "I'll never forgive myself..." He whispered, bringing his hands to cover his petrified expression.
"There has to be something we can do." Lucky started to pace the length of the small waiting room. "Someone we can yell at to get information."
Patrick pointed toward an expectant mother who was waiting patiently for the doctor to see her, a crochet hook and yarn in her hands. "Go ahead." Patrick suggested, knowing he felt just as helpless.
Lucky threw his hands up in frustration. He wasn't about to add scaring a pregnant woman into early labor onto his list of dubious deeds. "Maybe we should just call Mom and Dad. Mom is way better at handling this."
"Here. Use my phone. Yours will never get reception in here." Patrick handed the phone over.
"Thanks." Lucky was about to dial the number when a commotion at the elevators caught his attention. He motioned for Patrick to follow him down the short walk to the nurses' station. Cruz stood looking wildly around for anyone that looked familiar.
"Cruz, over here!" Patrick waved several times before Cruz finally realized who was calling him.
"Is she alright?" Cruz asked, walking over to his best friends.
"We don't know." Lucky admitted.
"They won't tell us anything." Patrick added, signature frown in place.
"I'll find out what's going on." Cruz promised, heading over to the information desk. If he stopped moving, he would fall down. He knew that much to be true. He had to keep his head about him or so his father had always told him. This was one of those times when it would have been nice to have someone to lean on but he was far too scared to depend on either of his friends for support. I'm such an asshole, Cruz mused to himself. Bobbie was their aunt; they cared about her just as much as he did. They wouldn't let this petty fight between them get in the way of Bobbie's health or the baby's. No, it was best not to think of the baby at all. How could he not think of the baby? They hadn't had enough time. The crib wasn't even put up yet. He hadn't proposed. This was not how they were supposed to bring their child into the world. If, God forbid, this was early labor, there's no way their little baby boy or girl would survive.
"Excuse me?" Cruz pounded on the countertop, fear in his eyes. "My girlfriend was just brought in—"
"Sir calm down. You're not the only one having a baby tonight." Dr. Monica Quartermaine informed him slowly, shoving her platinum blonde hair behind one ear.
"I'm not having a baby tonight!" Cruz shot back, tears in his eyes.
"Dr. Quartermaine, my aunt, Bobbie Spencer, was brought in." Lucky explained. "We're just trying to get some information on where she is and how she's doing."
"Hello Lucky." Monica greeted him distractedly. "Let me see if her chart is here."
"She was bleeding." Lucky explained softly, trying to ignore the pained look that crossed Cruz's face. "Dr. Lansing is her doctor."
"Ah, right here." Monica said at last, flipping through Bobbie's chart. "Mr. Rodriguez, you can come with me." She explained, flying out from behind the desk and leading him toward Bobbie's room.
"What did Monica say?" Patrick inquired, coming up from behind Lucky.
"Nothing. She took Cruz that way and left me here."
"Damn it!" Patrick hung his head. "I can't stand this waiting!"
"Think we can sneak down the hall?"
"I think we can try." Patrick smirked.