Rough Around the Edges. Marie Ferrarella
She didn’t know if she could get past this latest wave. “Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God.”
He could tell by the way she was arching her back that this one had to be a doozy. He had to get her to focus her attention on something else.
“Now, you listen to me. Look at me.” When she didn’t, he took her chin in his hand and physically made her look in his direction. “Right here, focus your eyes and look at me.” O’Rourke pointed to his own eyes as he released her face. “We’re going to have this baby and we’re going to be done with it right quick, do you hear me? When I say ‘push’ I want you to bear down and push to the count of ten and then stop. Ready?” He said it with firm authority, belying his own queasy feelings.
She panted several times before she had enough energy to answer. “Ready.”
“Okay.” He braced himself. “Now push. Two-three-four…” He continued counting until he reached ten. “Okay, stop.”
As if all the air had been let out of her, Kitt collapsed, her head rolling to the side. She lay so still O’Rourke thought she’d fainted until he saw her tense again. Another contraction had taken hold, he thought. “Bear down, Kitt, bear down.”
“I am bearing down,” she spat out, her entire face scrunching up.
Agony was imprinted on her every feature. Her hands fisted, leaning down hard on her knuckles, Kitt hunched forward and pushed for all she was worth. Gasping, trying desperately to get in enough air to keep from passing out, she fell back before O’Rourke reached ten.
She’d stopped when he’d reached eight. This wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Ten, Kitt, you stop at ten, not before.”
The man was a tyrant, a tall, good-looking, pig-headed tyrant. She didn’t even have enough strength to level a dirty look at him. “You stop at ten, I ran out of steam. As a matter of fact,” she said, her energy returning to some degree, “you have the baby. You’re better at this than I am.”
O’Rourke’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. The uncanny instinct that had brought him to these shores and steered his career in the right direction told him what to do. “You didn’t tell me you were a slacker, Kitt-with-two-t’s.”
If she had the energy, she would have hit him. “You…didn’t…ask.”
“Kitt—”
The words of encouragement he was about to resort to never had the chance to be spoken. Kitt groaned and then whimpered. The desperate sound wrenched his heart. Another contraction was coming and it was obvious she had no strength for it.
She was going to pass out on him, he realized suddenly, his mind scrambling frantically for a course of action. She had to be up to this, there was no other way. O’Rourke took her hand, wrapping it in both of his.
“Come on, Kitt-with-two-t’s,” he coached earnestly, “you can do this. Mothers have been doing it since the beginning of time.”
“Fine…get one of…them…to do…it.”
He focused his eyes on hers, willing her to remain looking at him. “You know better than that, Kitt. It’s your baby, you have to do it.”
There were tears in her eyes as she dug her fists in on either side of her. “Okay, okay, okay…here comes…another one. E-e-e-e!” She shrieked for all she was worth, her body jolting from the force that slammed into her.
“Push,” he ordered. “Push like a life depended on it. Harder, harder—” He saw it then, the crown of the head. His heart began to beat as rapidly as he thought hers undoubtedly was. “He’s coming! He’s coming, Kitt. Your baby’s coming!”
“He?” she questioned breathlessly. “That…part’s coming out…first?”
Slightly giddy himself, perspiration falling into his eyes, O’Rourke laughed at the image that created. “No. The head, Kitt-with-two-t’s, the head’s coming out first. Now push! One…two…three…”
She could hardly hear him counting. Kitt bore down, her head swirling again as she fought for consciousness and against the pain that was shredding her into tiny pieces. “Then…how…do you…know it’s a…boy?”
“Just a pronoun, nothing more, Kitt.”
Wasn’t the baby out yet? It felt as if she’d been pushing since the beginning of time. “How big…is this…head?”
He should have been keeping her up to speed on progress. But he was so awed by the miracle of life, he’d forgotten.
“Shoulders, we have shoulders.” He looked up and saw that she was close to completely collapsing. “Come on, Kitt, we’re almost done, just a little more, push a little more—”
Her eyes squeezed shut, Kitt bore down and pushed as hard as was humanly possible for her.
And then she heard it. The lusty howl of a life entering the world.
Her baby. He was here.
Finally.
Exhausted beyond belief, she fell back against the stack of cardboard boxes like a used, limp cleaning rag. “Is he…is he all right?”
O’Rourke’s heart was pounding with exhilaration as he looked down at the tiny life-form howling in his hands. He’d held larger computer manuals.
They’d done it. They’d really done it. O’Rourke felt himself grinning like a fool and not caring.
“Your son’s a girl, Kitt-with-two-t’s. A beautiful, fairylike little girl with soft downy hair and eyes the color of sapphires kissed by the sun.”
“A girl?” The wonder of it sliced through the pain that still bracketed her body, allowing her a touch of freedom. “I have a daughter?”
“That you do.” Grinning, he looked up at Kitt. “She’s a mite messy, but anyone with eyes can see she’s a beauty like her mother.” Very carefully, O’Rourke handed the tiny being to her mother. “Say hello to your mama, love,” he coaxed.
Drenched in perspiration, relief and joy, Kitt accepted the precious bundle into her arms. The instant she held her daughter, she felt her heart swelling.
“So this is what all the fuss was about,” she murmured quietly, looking down into the face of her newborn child.
Was it possible to fall in love so fast? In the blink of an eye? She supposed it had to be, because she’d just fallen in love with her daughter.
You’re a fool, Jeffrey, to be walking away from this. You have no idea what you’re missing.
Now that the excitement was over, O’Rourke became aware of the temperature within the van. It was downright chilly outside and that was seeping its way into the vehicle.
Leaning over both of them, he moved the sweater he’d tried to cover Kitt with. It had fallen in a heap on the side during the birthing.
“Maybe you’d better wrap my sweater around your little girl,” he suggested. “It’s big enough to cover her completely and it’s a wee bit cool for her.”
With the sweater wrapped around the small body, Kitt curved her arm around the baby. She looked up at O’Rourke. “What about you?” For the second time, her eyes slid over his body. And for the first time she realized how really close he was. “We’ve only left you your pants.”
He glanced down at himself, as if he’d forgotten that he wasn’t wearing anything from the waist up. The grin grew broader. “Good thing you weren’t having twins.”
The next moment, someone was opening the rear of the van and shining a flashlight inside, nearly blinding O’Rourke.
“Everything all right in here?”
The question and the beam of blinding light were both coming from the heavyset