Page 50 of One Night Bride
I shut my eyes and steeled myself for my twin to read the online hate. “I already made TMZ. America’s coaching darling caught in a drunken wedding scandal.”
I’d probably have that headline memorized for the rest of my life. When I told the same stories over and over in the nursing home to the orderlies—because I’d have no grandchildren to come see me—I’d trot out that headline. Maybe by the time I needed dentures, I could find humor in it. I’d never find humor in losing Remington though. I’d go to my grave never telling that story. I’d simply wither away with the guilt and heartache tucked into my chest where I could take it out every so often and have a moment with my memories.
Izzy gasped, and I pried one eye open to see her scrambling for her cell phone. After just a second or two, her jaw dropped open, and I lay down on the tile. I was just going to lie here until things fixed themselves. Or a real celebrity did something stupid and everyone shifted their focus away from me. If this was a pity party, I fully intended to wallow in it. Eat my weight in ice cream. Go sign up for unemployment. Start cutting coupons. Shop at the thrift store. Hell, maybe I’d have to move back in with Mom and Dad.
“Pull yourself together.” Izzy snorted. “Mom and Dad will never let you move back in. Dad’s gotten too used to walking around in his boxers now that all the girls are gone.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out a watery sigh. I needed to get a handle on saying everything I thought out loud.
“Yes, you do,” Izzy said.
I rolled my eyes and put both hands over my mouth. There. That ought to do it.
I’d lost myself to public opinion, and now I was losing my brain.
“Oh!” Izzy gasped again.
I just cringed and thought about where I could find some earplugs. I couldn’t listen to her gasp all day as she read the drama as it unfolded. Izzy grabbed my shoulder and tried to roll me over.
“Leave me!” I said dramatically before clapping my hands back over my mouth.
“Jesus, Esme. You really do everything with one hundred percent effort, don’t you?” Izzy stood and looked down at me. “Titus just texted that Amelia’s water broke and they’re on their way to the hospital.”
My eyes went wide and my heart stopped.
“Stay here and wallow if you want, but I’m going to the hospital to see our niece being born.” Izzy spun and grabbed her keys. By the time she had the doorknob in her hand, I was on my feet.
“Take me with you.”
“What do you mean I’ve progressed too fast to get an epidural?” Amelia screamed. “That’s not part of my birth plan!”
And when I say scream, I mean shrieked at the top of her lungs. I hadn’t heard that kind of volume since we were kids and playing outside because Mom had gotten sick of us fighting in the house.
The nurse looked completely unfazed. Not poor Titus, though. His entire face had gone white.
“You’re already nine centimeters, my dear. This baby is eager to be born.” The nurse pushed a few buttons on the machine, keeping track of Amelia’s contractions. “Here’s another one. I’ll go call the doctor to come now.”
She hustled out of the room while Amelia panted, face red.
“Can I get the epidural instead?” Titus called after the nurse, grimacing as Amelia gripped his hand like a lifeline.
“You did this to me, you bastard,” Amelia growled, baring her teeth at Titus.
Mom and Dad came into the room, and Mom immediately went to Amelia to brush her hair off her sweaty forehead. Thank goodness they came when they did. Any more contractions and Amelia might divorce Titus before the baby was born.
“Sorry we’re late. Your father couldn’t find his pants,” Mom said, bustling over to the table on wheels to grab the ice chips for Amelia.
Izzy gave me a pointed look. Yeah, okay. The “moving home” idea? Scratch that.
Vee flew around the corner of the doorway so fast her shoes squeaked on the clean tile. “Please tell me I didn’t miss anything.”
She came in and dropped to have a seat on the edge of the bed like Amelia didn’t need the extra room. Oakley followed Vee into the room, standing off to the side with Izzy and me.
“I even put the light and siren on so we got here in time,” Oakley said quietly.
Dad gave her a thumbs-up, which was weird since that was definitely breaking a few rules. You can’t just put the siren on for personal stuff. I should know. I’d asked Dad to do that when we were going to be late to my piano recital in fourth grade. He’d lectured me on right and wrong for a few minutes, then flipped them on and got me there on time. His parenting style was confusing.
“Careful. You’re in the kicking zone,” Titus warned Vee out of the side of his mouth. “Ask me how I know.”
