Page 6 of Unexpected Delivery

I chuckle. “It’s Morris, sweetheart. Just Morris.”

She smiles for the first time since I showed her that damn bill. “I look forward to your call, Morris.”

Chapter Three

Arbor

Ispend the rest of Friday tidying the house. The bassinet goes together easily, and the playpen doesn’t require any assembly, outside of snapping pieces together, which is a huge relief.

Things like an actual crib and a changing table will have to wait until after the baby arrives. Sometimes I wish they would have been able to tell the gender during the anatomy ultrasound, but at the same time, I’m excited to be surprised.

Most of the clothing I bought is gender neutral, and I didn’t go overboard, even though my instincts tried to convince me to. All the books I’ve read say babies grow so quickly that you don’t need more than twelve or fourteen outfits for the newborn to three-month phase—as long as you have access to a washer and dryer. The cabin has both, but evidence leads me to believe the mouse family might be living behind the dryer.

I bought traps, but once I got home from the grocery store, I read the instructions. It didn’t take long to determine I’ll be the one having to dispose of them after the trap does its job, and I haven’t had the heart to put them out yet.

I’ll get there.

It’s a process, and I’m working up to it.

If cleanliness with a new baby wasn’t an issue, I would probably ignore them. They’re tiny little field mice that are nothing like the scary roof rats we had in Arizona.

Sometimes, I really wish I wasn’t alone out here.

Pregnancy has been tough, but the on-and-off lower back pain is starting to drive me crazy. The constant tightening of my stomach doesn’t help either.

I don’t manage a good night’s sleep Friday or Saturday because I’m up and down, constantly needing the bathroom.

The majority of Sunday goes the same way. I finish washing all the baby clothes, blankets, washcloths, and accessories and get them put away in the small plastic dressers I brought with me from Arizona. By the time I’m done, I feel worse than I have yet.

I lounge on the couch and end up falling asleep. When I wake up, it’s dark, but that’s not unusual. The sun sets ridiculously early up here. I’m not feeling any better, and the pressure in my pelvis has moved from mildly uncomfortable to actually painful.

My phone normally gets sporadic service—if I aim it at the windowjustright—but tonight I can’t get any bars. The cabin doesn’t have Wi-Fi, and while there’s an ancient house phone on the wall in the kitchen, it has no dial tone when I get desperate and pick it up.

My panic only rises as the hours pass, but I’m not mentally prepared for the baby to come just yet.

I’m doing the best I can here.

I need more time.

I haven’t even had the chance to find an OB or a pediatrician.

This is a nightmare.

It becomes blatantly clear that I need to time my contractions a little before eight p.m. By nine, they’re coming frequently enough that I have to do something. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do.

No matter how hard I try, I still can’t find a signal with my phone. I even attempt to call 911 from right beside my car, but it fails to connect.

Anxiety builds to panic as I try to make a plan. I can’t sit around here waiting for phone service that might not come.

There are no neighbors close by.

The only option I have is to drive to the main road and either see if I can get a signal there or maybe stop by one of the houses to see if I could use their phone.

I feel like such an unprepared fool, but at the same time, I don’t believe I made a mistake by getting away from Adam. Since I couldn’t trust the man to treat me properly, I wasn’t going to trust him with a newborn that would have no way to communicate if he behaved badly.

Heading back inside, I carefully gather my hospital bag, purse, and the baby bag, which I’ll need if this is active labor.

Everyone I’ve met around here has been friendly and gone out of their way to help out. Hopefully, there will be lights on in one of the houses on the main road. Then I’ll use their phone, get to the hospital, and go from there.

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