Page 81 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

“WHERE IS HE?! I’M GOING TO KILL HIM,” I yell to Lucy in the hospital room during a contraction. I know, I know, never say anything in the midst of a contraction, but it’s like your brain short-circuits and you have no control over anything you say. I have a lot to apologize to Lucy for later. And the triage nurse. And the random lady in the elevator.

“I’m sorry, Jessie, I don’t know! I’ve been trying every two minutes. Just focus on your breathing and hold on to hope.”

I’ve beenholding on to hopefor two whole hours since checking in. It’s after midnight now and I’ve been trying Drew since five o’clock yesterday evening, and we still haven’t heard back from him. All I can reason is that he lost service while camping. Or he got eaten by a bear. Oh gosh, now I’m imagining Drew being eaten by a bear and I’m sobbing.I want him here!

“Shhhhh, it’s okay,” Lucy says, rubbing her hand in circles on my back. “Even if he doesn’t make it in time, everything is going to be okay. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

I squeeze her hand to silently thank her.

Lucy tries to distract me with every means possible: celebrity gossip, back rubs, stories I care absolutely nothing about fromher stupid childhood (I’m just a little grumpy), and even a song and dance that is so ridiculous the nurse actually asks her to stop. Nothing works. All I can think of is my pain and my sadness that Drew is not here for this. I don’t even know why I want him here so badly. It’s not like he had anything to do with creating this baby. But somewhere over the past few months, Drew has completely stolen my heart and poured his love into me in such a way that Ifeellike this is his child too. Somehow I just know we are going to be together for the long haul, so I want him here for the birth.

The hours pass in agony and I don’t think Drew is going to make it. Around five in the morning, after about twelve hours of natural labor, my phone rings and Lucy answers. “He—”

“HOW DILATED IS SHE?!” Drew yells, so loudly Lucy squeals and drops the phone.

“PICK IT UP!” I scream.

Through the speaker, I hear Drew also yelling, “LUCY! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!”

“OKAY! EVERYONE JUST SHUSH!” Lucy yells back. She tugs on the end of her shirt like she’s regaining her bearings and raises the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Where the hell are you, Drew?” I say, tears running down my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m on my way! Our phones lost service, and one of the guys severely burned himself trying to start a campfire while he was drunk, so I had to drive him to the nearest hospital, which was seriously in the middle of nowhere and—never mind, I’ll tell you the full story later. All you need to know is I just walked out of the hospital and my phone buzzed with forty-two voicemails and eighty texts, and I ran to the truck. Cooper is staying there with our friend and will drive him back in his car tomorrow.”

Of course. Of course this would happen! But even hearing his voice settles me a little. “How far away are you?”

There’s a small pause, and I imagine him grimacing. “Four hours. Less if I speed.”

I shut my eyes and let out a heavy breath. “You’re not going to make it, Drew. I’m eight centimeters dilated.”

“Don’t give up hope yet! I had a patient last week spend three hours going from nine to ten centimeters and then push for another hour! It could happen.”

“Are youhopingfor that?!” I screech.

His low chuckle soothes me even through the phone. “No. I just . . . I love you, Jess. I want to be there. I’m so sorry I haven’t been there with you this whole time.”

I wipe my eyes, annoyed that the motion tugs the IV line tight. Lucy reaches out and holds my hand tenderly, and I decide it’s time to focus on the good. I have my best friend holding my hand and the man I love on the phone with me. I can do this.

“I love you too, Drew.”

Drew stays on the line with me the whole rest of my labor. Yes, as he predicted, it takes forever, but he still doesn’t make it in time for me to start pushing. Lucy stays with me and supports me the entire time, though, and Drew coaches me through the phone (much to my actual ob-gyn’s dismay). My poor doctor has to endure endless questions and obtrusive suggestions from Drew, telling her not to rush me, to not let me bear down too hard, and a whole slew of other comments. She flipped off my phone when she thought I wasn’t looking, but I totally saw it, and it made my whole year. Drew is a bossy a-hole sometimes, and I absolutely love him for it. Especially when he’s protecting me.

Finally, after nearly an hour of pushing (You willed this into existence, Drew, and I hate you for it), he tells me he’s in the parking garage and to hang on. But I can’t. I can’t hang on, andI give one final excruciating push and then the feeling of sweet relief washes over me, quickly followed by the faint cries of my baby.

“Jessie, baby, you did it!” Drew says, sounding emotional on the other end of the line, and also like he might be running. He’s out of breath and I think I heard him yellMove itat someone.

I’m smiling in pure disbelief that I did it. It’s over, and I have a child. I crane my neck to see where my doctor is cradling my baby. “Congratulations, Jessie. You have a baby—”

“WAIT!” I yell before she gets the word out. “Don’t say it out loud. I want to be the one to tell Drew.”

Not even two minutes later, the door to the delivery room flies open and Drew stands there in workout shorts and a hoodie, hair sticking up all over the place like his hand has been gripping it for hours, eyes red and bloodshot. He’s sweating, confirming my suspicion that he ran all the way from the parking garage. His eyes immediately fall to me, and he sighs with audible relief. He doesn’t move for a few seconds, just stares, like he’s making every effort to memorize this moment, etching it into his mind for the rest of his life.

Finally, his eyes drop to the baby lying facedown on my chest, and I smile. “It’s a girl,” I whisper through a fresh round of tears. He sputters an emotion-filled laugh as a tear leaks out of the corner of his eye too.

He swats it away and finally steps into the room, going over to squeeze Lucy’s shoulder and thank her for being here for me, and then he comes to my bedside and leans over. I should probably care about him seeing whatever it is the doctor is still doing down south, but I don’t. I don’t care about anything anymore other than this baby in my arms and this man leaning in close to kiss my lips.

“You did it. You’re incredible,” he whispers reverently, with a smile that soaks my heart in joy.

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