“Just dial!” I blew out a hard breath as another contraction cinched my insides.
He handed me the phone and I brought it to my sweaty ear. It rang twice then went to voicemail.
“Damn it. I need my phone so I can call my mom.”
“You don’t know your mom’s phone number?”
“No, I don’t know my mom’s phone number! It’s the twenty-first century. Who remembers phone numbers anymore?”
“But your mom’s number’s probably something?—”
“Shut the fuck up and call my phone so I can find it!”
“God, you’re scary.” He took the phone and paused. “Do you know your phone number?”
“Yes, I know my phone number,” I snapped, rattling off the number to him as I panted through the pain. “Why are the contractions coming so fast?”
“I don’t know but I’m really praying it’s just gas.”
“Shh, it’s ringing.” I held up a hand, silencing him. “Hush!”
“I’m not sayinganything.”
“I saidshush.”
“God, you’re terrifying.”
I sent him a scathing glare as my ears tracked the ringing. “Where the hell is it?” I waddled into the living room, flinging cushions off the couch until the call went to voice mail. I dialed again.
“Look, why don’t we just get into my car and take you to Hale?”
“I’m not going to the hospital with you!”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like you!”
“Well, I’m not a huge fan of yours right now either, but you have goop and people coming out of you, so I really think we should find a doctor.”
“I need my spiritual doula.”
“Your what?”
“My—Woahaaaaaaaaoweee—oooh,fucking butt-fucking fuck!What?”Okay, that one really hurt.
“Jesus Christ. How did I get here?”
I swallowed, almost positive I was going to vomit from the pain. “I need water.”
“Are you allowed to drink during labor?”
“Just get me some fucking water!”
“Okay, okay!” He rushed to the fridge, slipping and sliding acrossthe floor until he caught the counter and glared at me. “You’re so lucky I didn’t fall in that shit.”
“Thatshitis the miracle of life, you insensitive prick!”
He shoved a bottle of water into my hands. “We’re going to the car.”