Page 62 of Over and Above

“And we can add sprinkles.” His rare grin was so much like Eric’s that my breath caught.

“Awesome.” I nodded, throat tight. I wanted Eric, wanted to be a part of this family, even if it was hard, even if it took time and patience. Eric was worth waiting for.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Eric

“I don’t think I can do this.” Maren had repeated that phrase at least twenty times since summoning me to join her, Diesel, and Marissa in my room. Each time she expressed doubt, I struggled that much more, seeing her in pain. Despite my years of training and experience, all I could do was watch and try not to wring my hands or pass my nervous energy on to her.

“Youaredoing it.” Marissa had bottomless patience. She was going to be an amazing mother because no matter how many times Maren paced the length of the room, muttering the same worries, Marissa kept the same gentle response. “You’re being so strong.”

“And brave,” Diesel added. Occasionally, Maren would stop the pacing for a contraction and let Diesel rub her back, but mainly, he trailed behind her, expression as helpless as I felt.

“I don’t want to be brave,” Maren shot back before turning her questioning gaze toward me.

“Diesel is right. You are brave, even if you’d rather not be. And you can be brave and scared.” God knew I was intimately familiar with that combo of emotions.

“What if I’m not ready?” she asked as she glanced over at the tub full of warm water. I thought back to June when I’d first heard the news and every conversation after that with Magnus.

“None of us are.” I echoed Magnus’s answer from those early talks. I felt silly now to have worried so much about being ready when the truth was there were some things in life one was never prepared for, parenthood included.

“I know.” Maren’s lip wobbled. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no apologizing,” I spoke faster before actual tears could appear. “You’re doing amazing, and I’m so proud of you. I meant we’re never ready to be parents. Or for any other big life change. We simply do our best. Muddle through. You’re going to do great. Youaredoing great.”

“Huh.” Maren sucked in a breath as another contraction hit, pausing to rock through it and squeeze Diesel’s hand before she could speak again. “I’m kind of a hot mess.”

“You’ve got this,” Marissa soothed again as she quickly checked fetal heart tones. She nodded at me, one professional to another, an acknowledgment that the vital signs were staying steady despite Maren’s ongoing doubts. “How would you feel about trying the tub?”

“I’m kind of rethinking the whole no-epidural thing.” Maren’s lips twisted as her forehead creased.

“You’re doing great.” My hands clenched, the urge to suggest transfer bubbling up my throat. But instead, I said, “Maybe Marissa’s right, honey. What if the tub helps?”

“You’re not advocating for the epidural?” Maren’s frown deepened. “I thought you’d be warming up the car.”

“I believe in you, Maren.” I peered deeply into her eyes, transported to the first time I’d seen that scared yet granite-strong gaze. “You can do this. If you need to transfer, I’m here. We’re all here. But right now, you’re doing amazing.”

“Okay.” Maren nodded, resolution replacing fear. “I’m gonna get in the tub.”

Marissa and Diesel helped her get situated in the warm water, and I hung back in the corner of the room, trying to offer her privacy while wanting to stay close in case she wanted another pep talk. I didn’t have an app on my phone like Diesel, but I could tell the contractions were staying close together even as Maren relaxed in the tub, less antsy now.

“How are you doing?” Marissa floated over to me after another check of the baby’s heart rate. Diesel stayed with Maren, rubbing her shoulders.

“Me?” I shrugged. “I’m just worried about Maren.”

“I know. And you’re doing great too.” She patted my arm. “Thanks for supporting the tub idea.”

“No problem.” I huffed out a sharp breath. “Do they make grandparent epidurals?”

“I wish.” Marissa laughed softly. “And she’s closer than she thinks to baby’s arrival.”

“Gonna trust you on that.” I rolled my neck from side to side. Letting go of the need to control this situation was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. For the first time since reclaiming this room for myself, my brain flashed back to the day Montgomery had passed away in this very room. I didn’t have control then either.

And in a very real way, Maren having the baby in here felt right, the universe coming full circle to give me two experiences where all I could do was watch and wait and offer a few helpless prayers.

“Marissa.” Maren made a startled noise. “I think I’m pushing.”

“Go with it.” Marissa stayed a beacon of calm, returning to the side of the tub but otherwise not seeming at all alarmed. My own pulse, on the other hand, galloped along in a Kentucky Derby-worthy sprint. I had to fight the urge to hold my breath—like that would help anything.

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