Page 109 of Calamity Rayne Knocked Up

Marta appeared as Remington ushered me to a bench.

“I’m fine.” I massaged the pinched nerve in my back. Tightness stitched across my abdomen, and I winced.

“She’s not fine. Something’s wrong. Where’s Hale?”

“He’s in Chicago.” My face tensed as another cramp contracted around my abdomen. Something wasn’t right. I looked up at Remington, too afraid to be angry anymore. “Call a doctor.”

He flew into action. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the emergency room getting a lecture about something calledprodromal labor, similar to Braxton Hicks, but more painful.

“It’s all that damn spicy food you’ve been eating.”

“Actually,” the doctor corrected Remington, “Prodromal labor isn’t caused by diet. It can, however, be triggered by stress or anxiety.”

I glared at my father-in-law. “Are you happy now?”

“I haven’t seen you in a month!”

“And look what’s happened!”

My phone buzzed, and I looked at the doctor apologetically. Hale was going to implode if I didn’t answer. “Go ahead,” she said.

“Hale?” I brought the phone to my ear. “I’m on my way. Have you talked to the doctor? Did they find anything?—”

“Hale, Hale, calm down. I’m fine. The baby’s fine. It was false labor.” I quickly informed him of everything I’d been told over the last hour, but he insisted on coming home anyway.

Unfortunately, prodromal labor could last several days. The doctor recommended reducing stress and distracting myself with music, television, or a warm bath if the contractions started again.

When Hale returned home, he was a mess. I was certain he spent the entire flight home researching false labor. He kept stuffing pillows around me like I might break, and he made me drink copious amounts of water to stay hydrated.

“Why were you at my dad’s?” he finally asked.

“I was returning his packages.”

He held back his words because he didn’t want to stress me out, but I knew he had plenty to say by the twitch in his jaw.

“It’s not your father’s fault, Hale. It was mine. I shouldn’t have gotten myself all worked up. And I shouldn’t have lifted so many boxes.”

His expression could have been carved from stone. “Quitting was supposed to lower your stress.”

“Well, what can I say? I work best under pressure.”

“This isn’t funny, Rayne. What if you went into actual labor? You’re only in your sixth month.”

“Prodromal labor doesn’t lead to real labor.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what isthe point?”

“You shouldn’t have been over there.”

“Avoiding him forever is not the solution, Hale. Your dad?—”

“My dad is a chronic source of stress in our life!”

I sighed. It frustrated Hale to no end that, after everything, I still defended Remington. “Hale, we can’t stay mad at your father for the rest of his life. I miss him. Elara needs a grandfather. And I want things to go back to normal.”

“Normal.” He scoffed. “That word doesn’t exist in this family.”

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