Page 77 of Turbulent Fires

Multiple heads peek in the door, and I wonder what’s going to come first: this child, or me committing murder. It’s a close call. Wolf finally thunders down the hall that not one more person is allowed to come near the door. That should take care of that.

One hour later, it feels like one long contraction. They’re coming so close together, I barely have time to take a breath before the next one hits. I threaten to never speak to Wolf again unless he gets me an epidural, a smoothie, and drugs, lots and lots of drugs.

He grips my hand. “You’re doing great, love. We’re almost there.”

“We’re?” I shout. “There’s nowe’re.I’mthe one dying here.”

He looks at me with love, and still a bit of panic, though he must feel better now that we’re at the hospital. “I wish I could take the pain away from you.”

“Well, you can’t so get me drugs!” I demand.

He leans close to me, his eyes sparkling. “What’s a baby’s favorite kind of music?” I’m confused as I look at him.

“What are you talking about?”

He smiles. “Bop, bop, bop.”

Another contraction hits. I scream. We’ll never know if it’s the bad joke or pain.

“I don’t like you!” I say when I catch my breath again.

“I adore you,” he replies, not at all offended.

“You two are adorable,” the nurse says. I glare daggers at her.

An hour later, after what feels like an eternity, a hell of a lot of sweat, sobbing, cursing, and one brief hallucination where I could’ve sworn my doctor was really Joseph Anderson in a lab coat, I’m holding my daughter in my arms for the first time, her pink skin perfect, her bald head nestled against my breast, and her tiny body cradled safely in my arms. Wolf is beside us, a tear running down his cheek as one huge hand lays gently on her back, and the other rests on my cheek.

“I didn’t think I wanted to be a father a few years ago,” he whispers, brushing at our sweet daughter’s smooth skin. “But now I can’t imagine life without her.”

“She’s ours. We created this,” I tell him, tears rapidly falling.

“Our newest little adventure,” he says with a chuckle.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be our wildest one yet.” He leans forward and kisses my lips with such gentleness that it starts my tears all over again.

“There will be many changes in our lives.”

“All of them unexpected, just as we like.”

There’s a long pause as we soak in this moment while the hospital staff quietly move about the room, cleaning up the mess we’ve made and getting it ready for visitors. Monitors quietly beep, and life goes on. Babies are born every minute. Even though this moment is incredibly special to us, it’s nothing the staff hasn’t seen before.

“Audrey,” Wolf softly says. I smile as I look at him. “Why did the baby cookie cry?” I’m confused.

“Because its mother was a wafer too long.”

I chuckle in horror. “Our poor daughter doesn’t stand a chance,” I say. Apparently, my suave husband has turned into the world’s worst dad-joke-teller.

Wolf kisses me again, and I realize our next chapter has started. I don’t need to write it; it’s being written for us. We aren’t in the sky or even on the ground, but we’re here together, floating as the greatest adventure of all begins.

Epilogue Two

Audrey

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who skydive once for the thrill of it and those who agree to celebrate ten straight weeks on the New York Times best-seller list by jumping out of a perfectly functioning plane. Can you guess which one of these I am?

“Wolf,” I yell over the roar of the wind and engine, double-checking the straps on my harness. “Maybe next time, we’ll celebrate with champagne and a spa.”

My husband grins from behind mirrored aviators and a ridiculous sky-blue jumpsuit. “This is the ultimate spa day. You’ll feel ten pounds lighter as soon as we jump.”

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