Page 261 of On a Fault Line

“Her water must have broken,” Angie explains. “Oh, my…”

“This happened suddenly,” I comment, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Well, I think I was in denial about how hard it was to talk and breathe earlier,” Claire clarifies. “I was just so determined to get you here and get Collins here to fix this giant mess you both created.”

Collins grabs his phone and taps his fingers on the screen. “Claire’s water just broke. She’s at home. We have no way to get to the hospital without calling for a ride. Call 9-1-1 and get here fast.” He pauses for a second. “I’m not sure.” He looks at Claire, who has her hair lying limp around her face and sweat beading on her forehead. “She says she’s contracting. Get here now.”

“Noooo!” she screams out as another contraction ripples through her. “It feels like a tidal wave.”

“Here, lean on me,” Angie says, trying to offer support.

Amniotic fluid pours down Claire’s legs like a river. “The baby is coming.”

I stand in shock—basically as useless as a decorative statue—while Collins jumps into action.

“And Nic isn’t here!”

Collins curses under his breath and then wraps an arm around Claire to keep her from falling or passing out—I don’t know which. “Angie, run and get some clean bedsheets and blankets. There’s probably some in a linen closet upstairs. Maybe get a couple of pillows if you can find any. Just make sure they are clean.”

“Okay,” she says frantically, rushing upstairs to go search.

“Penny, go get a clean bowl and fill it with warm water. Then find me some fresh dish towels or ones for the bath. And clean your hands. We’re about to deliver this baby if the ambulance doesn’t get out here in time.”

“What? We can’t deliver this baby,” I snap.

“We don’t have a choice. Now go,” he demands. “Claire needs us.”

I run off to the kitchen to get the supplies, thankful to have something to focus on.

When Angie comes back to the living room, she prepares a makeshift bed on the floor and Collins helps lay Claire gently onto it.

“I need Nic here,” she cries out, her face twisting in pain. “He can’t miss the birth of our first child. This isn’t how the plan was supposed to go.” Her words break apart midsyllable as she struggles to get them out.

I dampen a cloth and wipe her forehead. “Just breathe,” I try to soothe. “Sometimes the most unexpected things are the best things.”

As she bends her legs, Claire’s maternity dress shifts to a more natural position. Angie runs to get her some ice chips from the freezer to suck on. And we all just wait to see if help will arrive in time.

“The ambulance is ten to fifteen minutes away,” Collins informs, placing his phone back into his pocket.

I’m not surprised by this, as the house’s location is so far out from the main part of the city.

Collins leaves the room and comes back, drying his hands on a paper towel.

“Ahhh,” Claire bellows, arching her back and squeezing her fingers into tight fists of bedsheets that have pooled around her. “There’s so much pressure.”

“What does that mean? Are you cramping? Do you need to change positions?” Angie asks, looking at both Collins and me for support.

We are all terrified—and in shock.

“I think I need to push.”

Another contraction hits and Claire screams out, just as Graham and Nic make it to the scene.

“Fuck,” Graham growls under his breath, but then snaps into action.

“I’m here, Baby Girl,” Nic calls out, rushing to her side. “I’m going to carry you to the back seat of the SUV and get you to the hospital.”

“No,” she says. “The baby is comingnow.”

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