Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
ditch her so-called friend and find a new roommate. The bogus drug bust last spring had been because of Laurel’s stash, not hers. Nevertheless, Alix had paid the price.
In the beginning, Laurel had been apologetic and supportive, looking for ways to make it up to her. That had all changed. Most days she avoided Alix and even when she was around, all she did was sit in front of the television and eat. She hadn’t even gone to her job at the dry-cleaner’s all week.
Lying down again, Alix tugged the sheet up over her shoulders and closed her eyes, determined to go back to sleep. If Laurel was sick, then it was from all the ice cream she’d been eating. She must’ve gained fifty pounds in the last six months. None of her jeans zipped up and she looked grotesquely fat. Their relationship hadn’t been helped by Laurel making a play for Jordan, either. Alix trusted Jordan, but she wasn’t so sure about Laurel. She’d obviously gone to him hoping for sympathy—and who knew what else?
Alix never did learn what that was all about. Jordan hadn’t volunteered and she hadn’t asked. When she’d confronted Laurel, her roommate told her to mind her own freakin’ business.
Alix was determined to blot out the muffled sounds coming from the other room. If Laurel needed her, then she could come and get her. Alix wasn’t about to offer her help.
Just when Alix was drifting back to sleep, she heard a loud moan, as if Laurel was in horrible pain. Although she wasn’t happy about it, Alix tossed aside her sheet and climbed out of bed.
The living room was dark, and it took her a minute to locate Laurel, who was prone on the sofa with her head braced against the arm. Her knees were bent and she’d draped a blanket over her legs.
“What’s wrong?” Alix asked. She wanted it understood that she was none too pleased about having her sleep disturbed.
“Nothing. Go back to bed.”
Alix hesitated, and then decided what the hell. Laurel wasn’t willing to ask her for help. Fine, if that was how she wanted it.
“Whatever.” Alix was two steps into the bedroom when for some reason she stopped. Faintly she heard Laurel whimper what sounded like: oh God, oh God, oh God.
Walking into the room again, Alix decisively flipped on the light. She stood with her hands on her hips, feet apart. “You’re not all right. What’s wrong?”
Laurel flung her head back and forth and refused to answer. Eyes shut against the light, she bit down on her lower lip and blood oozed from the sides of her mouth. Alix stared at her aghast.
“Laurel,” she whispered.
Her roommate urgently stretched out her arm and when Alix took her hand, Laurel held it in a death grip. “Help me,” she cried. “I can’t do this … I thought … oh God, it hurts so much.”
Alix fell to her knees beside the sofa. All at once, everything added up, and what should’ve been obvious suddenly exploded into her awareness. “You’re in labor?”
Laurel nodded. “I couldn’t tell you … I couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Does John know?”
Tears filled Laurel’s eyes. “Why do you think he dumped me? He said he didn’t want the baby. Or me. He promised he’d pay for an abortion, but he didn’t show up with the money and I couldn’t afford it.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“How could I?”
“We’re friends.” Some friends. Laurel had let her get arrested and yet she didn’t trust Alix with the fact that she was pregnant.
Laurel closed her eyes and arched her back, moaning again.
Alix would figure it out later. Right now, she needed to get Laurel to a hospital. “I’ll go out and find a phone, call for help.”
“No!” Laurel screamed. Her hand crushed Alix’s fingers. “Don’t leave me. It won’t be long now … it can’t be. I can’t take the pain. I can’t deal with this by myself.”
“What should I do?” Alix had never been with anyone in labor before and had no idea how to help.
“I don’t know,” Laurel gasped, panting and writhing with pain. “I think the baby might be coming,” she cried, all-out panic in her voice. “What should I do? Oh God, what should I do?”
“Stay calm,” Alix said, forcing confidence into her own voice, although her heart was galloping at frightening speed. She peeled back the blanket and saw that Laurel had placed a stack of towels beneath her hips. “I’m going to go and wash my hands.”
“No … Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“All right, all right.” Laurel was rolling her head from side to side once more, her face shiny with sweat.
Alix berated herself for not guessing the truth earlier. But Laurel was overweight, so her pregnancy hadn’t been immediately obvious. She still wore her jeans every day and they seemed to be splitting at the seams, but Alix had assumed the weight gain was from depression and her constant eating.
Alix was only away from Laurel for a moment, but her roommate grabbed her hand the instant she was back. Studying Laurel’s face, Alix saw that she was in terrible pain.
“Look and see,” Laurel implored. “Is it ready to come out yet?”
Alix felt completely inadequate to deliver this child. “Do you have anything for the baby?”
Laurel shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
“Laurel,” she pleaded. “What were you going to do with the baby?” Talk about living in a dream world! Laurel had to know the infant would need clothes and blankets and bottles.
Her friend sobbed. “At first I planned to kill it.”
Alix gasped. “You can’t do that!”
“I don’t want this baby.” Laurel screamed and arched her back again when the pain overtook her. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the sofa as she slammed her eyes shut and panted. She took in deep gulps of air, her shoulders heaving with the effort.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Alix saw that the crown of the baby’s head had appeared, thick with matted blond hair. With the next contraction, Alix carefully placed her hands beneath the tiny skull. Laurel drew in a deep breath and tried to look down at the baby but couldn’t.
“It won’t be much longer now,” Alix promised. She felt frightened and helpless and she hoped she was telling the truth.
No more than a minute later, Laurel grunted and started panting again. Suddenly, the infant slipped free. He seemed to glide directly into Alix’s hands. With him came a gush of water and blood.
Tears filled Alix’s eyes. “It’s a boy,” she told Laurel. He didn’t cry right away and Alix’s heart leapt in panic. Acting on instinct, she placed her finger inside his mouth, swabbing it clean. Then she turned him over on his belly and patted his back. Instantly he let out a fierce, belligerent cry. Joy surged through Alix and she stared up at her friend. “He’s beautiful,” she said, awed by the wonder of this moment. A new life had just entered the world.
Laurel refused to look at him and turned her face away. “Cut the cord,” she instructed without emotion.
“I … I don’t think I should …”
“Do it,” Laurel demanded. “Or I’ll do it myself.”
“All right, all right.” Alix found a knife in the kitchen and, afraid she might infect either her friend or the baby, put it in a pan full of water, which she set on the stove to boil. She dashed back into the living room just in time to deliver the afterbirth.
As soon as she’d cut the cord, Alix took the