Page 38 of Knocked Up in Alaska

Chapter Eleven

“Brave, beautiful, Lilah. How are you?”

“Tired.” Too tired to open her eyes. Too tired to speak.

“You’re doing amazing. You really are.”

His voice sounded so near and so much clearer than before. She wanted to see him, but her eyelids weighed too much. Her whole body weighed too much. “I’m not.” In her mind, she shook her head but wasn’t sure her muscles carried out the order. “The first hour or so, I thought I could do this.”

She honestly had believed it. After arriving at the clinic, she’d changed into a gown all on her own. No problem. She’d walked around a little between long, but manageable, contractions. She’d even joked some with Beverly—“call me Bev”—Owatch, who’d assured her that after birthing five kids of her own—three of them at home—she could deliver Lilah’s in her sleep if Doctor Devan didn’t make it back in time.

Young, healthy thing like you? Piece of cake.

She’d always liked Beverly, even babysat her youngest daughter occasionally, but now she realized the plump, smiling office manager was Satan’s henchwoman disguised in a perky, dimpled package. This wasn’t a piece of cake. It was a slice of hell.

“I was wrong,” she confessed. Tears choked her throat. Exhausted, miserable tears. “I can’t do it. This was a huge mistake.” The slow, steady blip of the fetal heart rate monitor she’d once found comforting now mocked her. Between relaying labor progress telephonically to Dr. D, who was still on her way, Bev kept saying the baby was doing great. But she also kept saying Lilah was doing great, which made her insane as well as demonic.

“It’s not a mistake. I promise. You can do it. Look at me, Lilah.”

She turned her face in the direction of his voice, cracked her eyes just enough to see the room in soft focus. And there he was, Shay, leaning close, his eyes a stunning, electric blue, shining with some internal light. He looked so peaceful and positive it triggered her usually dormant temper. “You’re wrong. Or maybe you’re a fucking liar and you’re really here because I’m dying. You’re dead, I’m dying, and our poor baby’s going to grow up an orphan.”

He responded with a gentle smile. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you use the F-word.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite. “Maybe you’re a freaking liar.”

That earned her a quick laugh. “I’d never lie to you, even if I could, which I can’t. I’m here because you want me here, not because you’re dying. You’re just taking a little nap. In a few seconds you’re going to wake up, and then the fun’s really going to start.”

“A few seconds? There’s no way. I need more time.” Could he hear the desperation in her voice? “More rest.”

“Don’t worry. You’re on my time now. There’s a universe of rest in every second. Just float for a bit.”

At his words, the table beneath her disappeared. Her body felt weightless, as if suspended in blissfully cool water. “I can’t do it. I can’t have this baby.” The words came out fast, tripping on each other. “I literally cannot push it out of me. I don’t know what made me think I could. It’s not doable.”

He laughed again. “It’s doable. I swear.”

“Fine. You do it.”

His smile faded. “I wish I could. I know it’s hard. I know it hurts. I wish I could be there with you in the flesh, to hold your hand, to rub your back—”

“Be glad you’re not. I’d probably punch you,” she admitted, “for leaving me to deal with everything alone.” Except that was wrong. It wasn’t his fault he’d died. She bore some of that blame. A lot of the blame.

“I’d deserve it.” He smoothed a hand over her forehead, but she couldn’t feel his touch, just a faint trace of cool air on her skin. Like magic, her turbulent thoughts leveled out. “But you’re not alone, Lilah. Dr. Devan’s going to come through the door in under a minute and everything’s going to move really quickly from there. Ford’s got your back, and if you need to punch someone, punch him. He can take it.” Shay’s smile made an encore appearance. “You’re going to drop someone hard before things finally come together, but you won’t let loose before then, so make the most of this opportunity.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but the slow, heavy tightening of her womb warned her another contraction built. “Oh, no. Not yet. Please…”

“Let’s skip this one.” He placed his palm on her stomach. Again, she couldn’t feel his touch, but the heavy sensation eased.

Relief filled her, and gratitude. “Can you keep doing that? Can we just stay here like this and skip the rest?” Outside the bubble of respite, Bev chattered into the phone while a sure, steady hand held hers. Ford’s hand. The feel of his long fingers between hers basically gave her the answer to the plea she’d put to Shay, but she held her breath and waited for him to respond.

“I’m sorry. No.” For one of the few times in his life—or maybe that was the wrong terminology, all things considered—he actually did look sorry. Still concentrating on her stomach, he added, “I can only give you this little rest.” He glanced to her. “And tell you I’m proud of you.”

Tears prickled her eyes again. “Of me? Why? For letting you think I knew what I was doing when I didn’t and getting knocked up like some kind of careless teenager.” And worse. Much worse. Self-recrimination left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Shhh.” He skimmed his fingertips over her forehead again, and the dark thoughts faded along with the bitterness on her tongue. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. Not a thing.”

No. That wasn’t true, was it? Pulling her thoughts together suddenly took a lot of effort. “I shouldn’t have…shouldn’t have…”

“Lilah.”

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