Page 26 of Over and Above

“Can we show him?” She gestured at the bag near Marissa’s feet. “Please?”

“Of course.” Marissa fetched a white tube attached to a little box, the sort of fetal Doppler I’d seen on TV shows. Maren obediently lifted her Safe Harbor College T-shirt slightly to bare her lower belly. The whole room got silent, a sort of quiet anticipation filling the space. Hope lodged in my throat, stealing my next breath, slowing my own pulse as if that might help us hear.

Thump. Thump. Thumpa. Thumpa. Thump.The noise was not unlike loud butterfly wings, fast but steady, delicate, yet surprisingly strong.

“Wow.” I exhaled all the air I’d been holding, only to have a hand land on my shoulder.

“Oh my gosh.” Eric appeared to be using me to steady himself, as his expression was every bit as dazed and awed as I felt. He wore a newer version of the pancake breakfast T-shirt he’d loaned me. “Is that…?”

“Our baby.” Maren beamed at us both. “Isn’t it amazing, Dad?”

“Yeah.” Eric’s voice came out faint as his gaze swept around the room before finally settling on the midwife. “Marissa? What are you…?” He trailed off, understanding apparently dawning as his eyes went wide. “A home birth? No. Maren. Really?”

“I’ve done my research.” Maren pointed at a stack of books on the floor that included Diesel’s well-worn pregnancy guide. “We both have. Younger first-time moms have a super high rate of interventions in hospital births. And no offense, but I hate doctors and hospitals.”

“I know.” Eric’s voice took on a soothing pitch. “But home births bring their own set of risks.”

“We’re minutes from the hospital.” Maren waved a hand like this would convince the guy who could likely calculate the seconds to the ER from any point in town.

“Minutes isn’t the same as steps from the OR.” Eric matched Maren’s stubborn look.

“I was born in a home birth.” I finally had something worth contributing to this standoff. I’d been born during one of my parents’ commune phases, a place in central Oregon, and by my mother’s accounts, my birth was barely more noteworthy than a strenuous yoga practice. “Well, technically, it was outdoors, but close enough.”

“You were born outside?” Maren seized this detail eagerly, sitting up on the couch. “Too bad it’s going to be January or February. I’ve said for years we need a hot tub on the deck.”

“No one is having a baby on the deck.” Moving away from me, Eric turned his attention to Wren, who’d been scribbling notes the whole time. “Wren? Surely, science has some opinions to back me up on this.”

“Actually, in other countries like the UK, home birth is way more common, with a lot of research showing lower complication rates. Morbidity rates are lower. I can show you studies?—”

“Thank you, Wren.” Eric cut them off with a groan as he rubbed his temples.

“I have a handout for grandparents-to-be that answers a lot of questions about home birth.” Marissa offered copies to both Eric and me. I glanced at the colorful pamphlet while Eric muttered to himself. Leaning on her cane, Marissa gave him a stare every bit as stern as the ones he’d been handing out. “You did a transport on one of my births a year or so ago. You might not remember?—”

“I remember.” Eric exhaled hard, tone turning more conciliatory. “You’re a professional. We’ve worked together on a couple of transports, and I’m familiar with your mother as well. You both have impeccable reputations, but that doesn’t mean I’m in favor of this for Maren.”

“I won’t take chances with Maren’s safety,” Marissa said firmly. “You can have your opinions on home birth, but you know I’ll transfer at the first sign of issues.”

Eric nodded sharply before crossing the room to peer down at Maren. “This is seriously what you want?”

“Yes.” She gave a regal nod, and to my shock, all the fight seemed to leave Eric at that one simple word.

“Okay.” His face and shoulders slumped as he blinked several times against the mid-morning sun filtering through the blinds. “I…I need coffee.”

He escaped in the general direction of the kitchen, but the back door slammed a few seconds later.

“Should I go to him?” Maren seemed firmly rooted to the couch.

“Or I could?” Marissa offered, but I waved both of them off.

“No, you finish your prenatal appointment. I’ll go tame the bear.”

“You’re getting good at that.” Diesel offered a way-too-enthusiastic grin. He had no clue exactly what I was good at where Eric was concerned, and I had every intention of keeping it that way.

I wouldn’t say I was the love-them-and-leave-them type of player, but I also had a terrible track record with long-term relationships. I’d told Eric I wanted more than a single hookup, which was true, but I was having a hard time picturing anything about my life six months from now, what with the fire and the coming baby. I had zero clue where this thing with Eric was headed. Probably not to the picket-fence fairytale ending Diesel and Maren would jump at, which was why I wasn’t looking to broadcast our physical connection.

Friendship, however, we were both good at, and I found him exactly where I’d suspected, slumped in a deck chair, my dogs on either side of him.

“Did you lure them outside with treats?” I helped myself to the chair next to Eric.

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