Page 106 of Undeniably Convenient

My head flies left and sure enough, there’s a short, black sundress that I think she’s worn as a beach cover-up, and beneath it on the floor is a zipped duffel bag. This is why women rule the world and our lives. They’re on top of their shit while we’re still floundering, hot messes.

I snatch the dress and the bag, along with her flip-flops, from one of the shelves and then race back into the bathroom. Katy is naked, her wet underwear discarded, and I start to put her dress over her head when she smacks my hand away and snatches the dress from me.

“What are you doing? I’m in labor, not incapacitated.”

I scrub my hands up and down my face. “Shit. I’m a mess.”

“You are. But I love you for it. Go put on shoes and call the hospital. Also, can you please call my uncle Cal and let him know what’s going on? I won’t bother anyone else yet until we know more.”

I cup her chin and tilt her head up until she meets my eyes. “I love you. Thank you for being you right now.” I kiss her lips and then race out of the room to make the phone calls and put on shoes because I’m nearly positive I would have left the house barefoot if she hadn’t mentioned that. Twenty minutes later, we’re entering the hospital through the emergency department. And because Katy is essentially a celebrity in whatever hospital she goes to in this city, a team of doctors and nurses greets us.

Endocrinology, obstetrics, and emergency medicine are all geared up. Katy hasn’t had any contractions yet, but the moment they wheel us into a room to do a baseline check on her before sending us up to OB, her contractions start.

“Katy, we’re going to get an IV going in you immediately and give you a dose of steroids to help the baby’s lungs along. But if you’re already having contractions and your water is leaking, the steroids might not have enough time to do their job before you deliver.”

Katy nods as she watches the nurse put in the IV. “I know,” she says softly, her other hand clutching firmly to mine. They get her fluids going along with a dose of betamethasone, and after doing a quick check of the baby’s heart rate along with Katy’s cervix, they decide to move us straight up to labor and delivery instead of keeping us down here.

We reach the elevator, the doors open, and the moment they wheel her on, I stop, backing out. “I’m going to take the stairs.”

“What?” everyone asks in confusion.

“I’m not risking us getting stuck.”

Katy smirks at me. “Probably a good idea. The last thing I want is to deliver our baby in here.”

“I’ll see you upstairs.”

She nods, and the doors start to close. “Wait! Bennett?” I shove my arm in, making the doors jar back open and the elevator ding loudly. “Before this all gets going or if I do happen to get stuck… yes.”

I tilt my head, my eyebrows diving into a V.

“I’m saying yes. To the question you asked me this morning when you woke me up. My answer is yes.”

I fly onto the elevator, not caring at all about the audience watching us, and take her face in my hands. “You mean it?”

“Hundred percent. I would have told you that this morning, but, well…” She trails off and points down. “We got interrupted when my vagina started leaking.”

“We did. I had a lot of things planned for her this morning after I made you say yes to me.”

She smiles against my lips. “Now it’ll have to wait.”

“I’ll wait forever.” I kiss her as deeply as I can, holding her as tightly as I can. “You know, I had originally planned to stop an elevator and propose to you like that, but your uncle told me when I asked him for your hand that you’d definitely say no to me if I had done that.”

“He’s right. I would have.” She smacks my shoulder, making me laugh. “You asked my uncle for my hand?”

“Yup.” I wink at her. “I’ll see you up there, Dr. Lawson.”

My teeth drag her bottom lip, and then I get my ass out of the elevator so she can get upstairs where she needs to be. I fly up the steps, taking them two at a time, joy like I’ve never experienced before coursing through me. That is, until I reach the fifth floor, get myself past the front security and into the patient area, and find Katy in a ferocious amount of pain with a new contraction.

My lungs empty, and my heart seizes. I hate seeing Katy in pain. I hate not being able to make it better for her. But God, is she fucking strong and tough. She hums through the contraction, gripping two of my fingers as they walk her down the hall and bring her straight into a room. The nurses get her changed into a gown, situated on her bed, and hooked up to monitors.

And for a little while, time seems to stand still. Contractions and taking walks down the hall and massages and helping her through the pain. Eventually, she gets an epidural, and her people come and go, offering hugs, jokes, and support.

Only then it happens. Her labor stalls and the baby starts to go into distress. In a whirlwind of motion, Katy is whisked off to the OR, and I’m tossed a pair of scrubs and a scrub cap to put on. I change in a nanosecond, masking up and running straight for the OR.

“Stay up by her head. No watching,” the doctor instructs me, but for the first time in my life, I have no interest in watching the surgery. I’m up by Katy’s head, both of us silent and scared, my arms wrapped around her, my forehead resting against her temple.

I don’t pray often. Hardly ever. But I’m praying, and I’m praying hard now.

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