Page 63 of The Homecoming

“We have plenty, Autumn, and we can buy more.” He pushed the tablecloth up under her backside, and she tried to help lift so he could get it under her. She groaned again. “Deep breaths, breathe through the pain.”

“Say that a hundred and fifty more times and maybe I’ll believe you.”

He nodded and grabbed the walkie. “Ben, you here yet?”

“I am, where are you?”

“Shed. Autumn’s in labor. Ambulance is still twenty minutes out. Baby’s coming breech. Get Weasel, maybe he can light a fire under someone.”

“Shit,” came Ben’s reply.

That was her sentiment exactly. Every muscle in Autumn’s body tightened, and another contraction pushed more cries from her throat. She growled and stared at the ceiling. A shed? Her baby was facing the wrong direction, and now she was in labor on a shed floor. How the hell did she get into this mess?Please get us through this, she prayed.

Brandon was back on the cell phone. “Alright, tell me what to do.” He gave a few affirmative replies, staring at her nether region with the intensity of a man about to go off to war. She looked away, having her own terror to deal with. She couldn’t handle his, too. The next contraction took control and she no longer cared about his trauma.

“You’re on speaker,” Brandon said.

He must be talking to the dispatcher. He now touched her vagina, but she had difficulty telling the difference between him and the searing agony of the baby pushing its way out ass-first. “Breathe,” he said. They made eye contact, a calm determination having replaced his sheer terror. She cried out again. “Deep breath in, and push,” he ordered. “Can you prop yourself up on your elbows?” She did as he told her, breathing as he yelled, “Push.” He continued alternating between ordering her to breathe and ordering her to push until her arms gave out and she landed flat on her back. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said, glancing up at her face. “Legs are out, and we’re almost to the shoulders. You’ve got to keep going.”

“I can’t do it,” she cried. Gummy appendages had replaced her arms and legs as the ceiling swirled above her.

“You’ve got to get his head out. You’re doing great, Autumn.”

Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t move.

“Hey.” Brandon lifted himself above her knees and she met his eyes. “I got you.” He glanced down. “Now, I’m holding half a baby. I need you to help me get him the rest of the way out, then this will be all over. Do we have a deal?”

She nodded. That was the last thing she remembered before her vision slipped away, the fuzzy glimpses falling into blackness.

34.

Autumn blinked and turned her head, wondering when she’d gotten in a bed.

A hospital bed?

She placed a hand to her stomach on instinct and found it was still pudgy, but there was no baby.

No baby?

The shed, the pain, Brandon. Her vision cleared as people surrounded her—Hannah, Rebecca, her parents. She spotted Brandon next to her bed and the knees of his jeans were covered in something dark. His shirt was also splattered with…was it blood? A rush of panic flooded her brain.

“Where’s Danny?” She tried to sit up but Brandon jumped forward and other hands joined in, refusing to let her move.

Brandon exhaled a sigh of relief. “He’s fine. I promise,” he said. “Don’t move, just rest. He’s with the baby doctors in a bin so he can keep cooking.”

She wrinkled her nose.What was he talking about?

“An incubator,” Hannah said. “He’s in an incubator under observation.”

“When can I see him?”

“Soon,” her mom said. She leaned forward and rubbed Autumn’s foot.

Autumn nodded. “Okay, go watch him and make sure he’s doing alright.”

“He is,” Shirley smiled. “I’ve been back and forth checking on both of you. But I’ll go back if it’ll make you feel better.”

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