Baby's First Christmas. Cathy Thacker Gillen
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Baby's First Christmas - Cathy Thacker Gillen страница 5
Michael frowned at the list of addresses on the clipboard and the rows of gift baskets in the back of the van. “You’re going to make all these deliveries yourself?”
Kate nodded. “I always do the late afternoon deliveries. Dulcie does the ones first thing in the morning. Jeff takes care of the ones at noon.” She paused. “I like this part of the business, too. It’s fun, seeing the expression of delight on the customers’ faces when they receive a gift from my shop. And I enjoy the change of pace after being in the shop all day.”
“Let me help you. You drive. I’ll carry the baskets up to the door. It’ll go twice as fast that way. Then maybe the two of us can go to dinner and finish resolving all this.”
Kate had to admit she could use the help. Because of her talk with him, she was running a good hour behind schedule for deliveries. “It’s going to take me several hours,” she warned. “And I have to go out in the country to do the rural deliveries.”
“Then you really shouldn’t be out there alone. Not this close to delivering. What if something happened?”
“Then I’d call for help on my cell phone,” she told him calmly, knowing first babies were generally notoriously slow in arriving. And she had yet to suffer her first real contraction. Nevertheless, he had a point. She didn’t want to put her baby in danger. And she had been feeling a little achy and tired all day. Maybe it was best if she accepted his help and let him tag along with her. It would give her a chance to show him she could handle work and a baby and subtly persuade him he didn’t want to be a father as much as he thought he did. If she were successful, it would be well worth the additional time she spent with him.
While she drove, Kate told him about the preparations she had made for the baby, going into detail about the nursery she had prepared, the type of crib and changing table and rocking chair she’d selected and the extensive layette of baby clothes. Michael was interested and impressed. Nevertheless, by the time they had gotten halfway through the list of deliveries, Kate felt oddly trembly and exhausted. When he offered to do some of the driving, too, she agreed with barely a murmur of dissent.
“You feeling okay?” Michael asked as he got behind the wheel and steered the delivery van onto the lonely country road.
“Sure,” Kate fibbed with a lot more assurance than she felt, then abruptly doubled over with a sharp cry of pain.
“What is it?” Michael asked, alarmed.
Kate clutched her tummy all the harder. “Guess.”
Chapter Two
“You’re in labor,” Michael proclaimed, surprised to discover that beneath the usual physician’s calm he was feeling the initial panic all first-time fathers felt.
Kate groaned and sank even farther into her seat. Breathing through the contraction—which appeared to last about thirty seconds—she put her hands on the edges of the upholstery and gripped it until her knuckles turned white. “It would certainly appear so, yes.” Kate pushed the words through a row of even white teeth. Delicate beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip.
She seemed awfully uncomfortable for a very first contraction, Michael thought. Unless… Oh, no. “Was this your first contraction?” he asked.
“I—” Kate gasped between panting breaths that told him another contraction was starting, just seconds after the conclusion of the first. “Suppose.” No sooner had she spoken than she let out a sharp little cry.
“What do you mean you suppose?” Michael demanded. Figuring the rest of the delivery baskets could wait, he turned the van in the direction of Chapel Hill.
“I’ve felt a little funny all day,” Kate confessed as she grabbed a tissue from her purse and pressed it to the dampness at the back of her neck.
“Funny how?”
“I’ve had this pressure—this sort of aching—in my thighs, like I overdid it exercising or something.”
“But no actual contractions until just now.”
“Right.”
“And you’re sure what you felt just now was an actual contraction?” Michael persisted.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
The important thing here was to stay calm. “When did the funny feeling—the pressure—start in your legs?”
“This morning, when I got up.”
Which meant, Michael thought, she’d likely been in the very early stages of labor all day. “I noticed you rubbing your back in the shop. Was your back aching all day?”
“Yes, but that’s been the case off and on for several weeks now, so I didn’t think anything of it. But—” Kate caught her breath as the cramping in her lower abdomen intensified. “It’s never been this bad,” she said with tears in her eyes.
Michael reached over and squeezed her hand. “Hang in there,” he said.
“I’m trying.” Kate waited until the worst of it had passed, then, still panting, reached behind her and grabbed the duffel bag she took to her Lamaze class. Inside were clean workout clothes, a blanket to stretch out on, a pillow, an unopened bottle of mineral water and a stopwatch.
“Try breathing in through your nose and slowly breathing out through your mouth,” he said as the next contraction gripped her without warning. “That’s it,” he said, as Kate gasped again and hit the start button on her stopwatch. “Take deep, slow breaths, just the way they taught you in Lamaze class. That’s it, Kate. Again. And yet again—”
At long last, the pain subsided. As it did, Kate released a long, ragged breath. And suddenly became aware—as did Michael—that she was drenched with sweat. From the looks of it, Michael thought, as she turned the temperature control knob to cool, this was going to be one hard and fast—maybe too fast—labor.
“How long was the contraction?” Michael asked as Kate’s color slowly returned to normal and he continued to drive in the direction of the hospital at a safe, steady pace.
Kate glanced at her stopwatch. “Three minutes and fourteen seconds.” She seemed surprised as she contemplated that, murmuring, “No wonder it felt like an eternity!”
“Okay, let’s time between contractions now,” Michael said. “Then we’ll call your doctor.”
Kate reset the stopwatch and absently rubbed her tummy. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen, Michael noted with relief. All blissfully free of pain. Beginning to relax, she lay against the seat. Without warning, Kate’s teeth began to chatter. A shiver spiraled through her slender shoulders. Kate gasped as another contraction gripped her. She turned alternately red then white. “Do you know your OB’s number?” he asked calmly.
Still fighting the contraction gripping her, Kate pulled the cell phone out of her purse. “Dr. Amanda Gantor. Just punch one,” she panted.
Michael did as directed and was patched through. He explained what the situation was, then listened as he received instructions. “Right. Yes. We’ll be there as soon as