Page 95 of Infinite
“Me?”
“Well, it’s your kid!”
Fuck. Shit. Okay. I have some—albeit it’s from watchingGrey’s Anatomy—medical training. I should be able to do this, right? I mean, catch the baby or pretend to while I wait for Greyson and the damn team of nurses to get here.
I get to where her legs are spread and seriously don’t want to look. “Ashton!” Catherine yells. “You should probably keep your damn eyes open!”
Gretchen stares at me. “Oh my God! My two best friends are delivering a baby, and it’s not even my baby! This is some seriously fucked-up shit. I mean, this kid is screwed if this is the first moments he gets to have.”
“She,” I correct.
“Relax, Gretch,” Catherine says while turning her head to stop from laughing. “We all need to be calm.”
“Says the girl who is up by her head.”
Quinn rushes back in with Greyson and two nurses. Oh, thank God. However, Quinn gets an eyeful because he makes a noise and then covers his eyes.
“Burned into your retina, huh?” Catherine laughs.
“Yup.”
“She needs to push,” I explain, not caring about those two jackasses.
Greyson smiles and walks over with all the confidence in the world. “All right, let’s see if baby Miller is ready to come into the world.”
I take two steps back, not sure of where to go. Do I stay down here? Do I go back up by Gretchen’s head?
Then Quinn takes his place on her left and the door opens again, bringing in another hospital bed.
The nurse takes in my expression and smiles softly. “When the baby is born, Gretchen wanted you to feel those first moments, so we’re bringing in a bed to be beside hers. You’ll hold your baby the same way any new mother would.”
I look at my best friend as tears fill both our eyes. “Get changed into a gown, Momma.”
This is too much. I can’t breathe, but almost without thinking, I do as she says. I remove my shirt and bra, and slip on the gown, opening in the back. She’s making a lot of noise, so I hurry a little more to get back out there.
“Gretchen, when the next contraction hits, I want you to push,” Greyson tells her as I round the second bed and grab for her outstretched hand.
“You can do this, Gretch.”
She’s tired and sweaty, and yet, when she looks at me, there’s a determination in her eyes. “I love you, Ash.”
“I love you too.”
She will never understand the gift she’s giving me. I can’t ever thank her enough, love her more, or be able to repay her.
It’s . . . the most selfless thing anyone has ever done.
Quinn stands behind me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on Gretchen’s. “Thank you.”
She smiles, and then another contraction comes, wiping it from her face.
Gretchen struggles through the next two, each of them draining her strength a bit more, but then she gives a strong push, and I hear the cry.
The perfect, most heart-wrenching cry.
Loud, strong, angry, and my entire world stops because that’smybaby.
A baby that is a miracle.
