Page 26 of Jayce

She trembles beneath my arms. Out of fear or being in my arms, I don’t know. It could be my wet body making her cold. My pride prefers to believe that it’s because of our nearness and nothing else. My concern for her knows better.

I keep my eyes and ears open for any sign of danger. “Everything is going to be okay. We’re safe in here.” I say with a steady voice, hoping they believe it because I truly don’t know if I’m speaking the truth.

Now isn’t the time to panic.

Shay’s hair hangs tousled beneath my chin. She clings to my sides. Her fingers grip my shirt, as her breathing rises and falls erratically. I say a prayer to Helios that my presence brings Shay peace and not anger over my failure to remain outside.

I look over at the doctor. She’s leaning against my back. Her face carries worry while her hands protectively cradle her swollen belly.

Despite the cramped space and the storm wreaking havoc outside, she remains calm.

When we can no longer make out the sound of a train barreling in our direction, we wait another few minutes before leaving the safety of the tub to assess any damage.

Shay lets go of my hand to secure the sheet she’s wearing. Then grabs my hand again. She squeezes my fingers tightly but is no longer shaking despite being damp from resting safely against my wet body.

Together, we head outside the house. We pass signs in the living room for midwife services and pelvic floor therapy. I know Shay’s not pregnant. My bull and I would have heard a heartbeat. What is pelvic floor therapy?

The aftermath that we find ourselves in could be nothing else but the work of a tornado. The scene before us is one of chaotic destruction. A once peaceful street now transformed into a debris-strewn battlefield, with the destructive force of the tornado clear in every direction we turn.

The sight directly in front of the house knocks the wind from my lungs. Tears stream down the doctor’s eyes, while Shay squeezes my hand tighter.

The tornado had grabbed hold of a large tree, uprooting it with its fierce winds. It crashed down onto my truck. The weight of the tree had pinned the doors shut, rendering it a mangled, immovable obstacle.

The neighboring house to our right had borne the full brunt of mother nature’s wrath. It lay split in half—a jagged tear running down the middle like a gaping wound. The exposed rooms and shattered windows bore witness to the sheer power of nature unleashed.

Across the street, a once picturesque home now stands in disarray. Its roof gone. Leaving the upper floor exposed to the elements. Inside, furniture and belongings lay scattered about.

Everywhere we look, trees lay uprooted or snapped like matchsticks, their branches and limbs scattered across lawns and streets. Debris from shattered buildings and torn structures adds to the surreal landscape, creating a maze of hazards and obstacles.

A power line leans on an angle, threatening to fall at any moment.

Despite this devastation, the house where we took shelter remains remarkably intact. It stands like a solitary beacon of resilience amid the chaos. Its sturdy construction and good fortune sparing it from the worst of the storm’s fury.

I turn to the doctor who’s still rubbing her belly. “Are you and the child okay?”

“Yes, thank you for asking.”

She glances over at Shay. “Why didn’t you tell me you found a partner? Is he helping with your stretches?”

I raise an eyebrow. Stretches? Shay needs my help. Her face is bright red. I tuck my lips in, resisting the urge to force her to spill something she obviously wants kept a secret. Oh, I plan to ask her. But not in front of the doctor.

When Shay says nothing, realization dawns on the doc’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Shay shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

“Well, if that’s your truck over there, you’re not going anywhere for a bit. Do you want to finish your session?”

Shay awkwardly nods.

“I’ll find us a ride,” I say. Shay releases my hand and walks back inside.

Chapter 19

Shay

When I’m back on the table to continue today’s torture session, Dr. Lanny apologizes repeatedly for putting her foot in her mouth.

I tell her it’s complicated while she continues a form of cupping, only she’s using her fingers for most of it. She’s searching my fascia lines for lack of blood flow. I’m not sure what these lines are despite her explanation. I’ll have to look it up when I get a chance.

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