Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 34

We arrivedat the cabins early in the afternoon.

“I’m so glad to be here,” Joni said, cutting the engine after pulling onto the gravel driveway of the first cabin. “I’m ready for a nap.”

“Sorry I couldn’t share the driving burden with you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she said with a grin.

There were six cabins, and even though they looked rustic, they had all the modern amenities, including air conditioning and heat. Winter in Louisiana wasn’t like winter up north, so I knew I’d be fine wearing jeans, sweaters, and a light jacket.

The prospects were going to bunk in one of the cabins, the Old Ladies with kids would stay in another, and then Joni, Rachel, and I would take a third.

While the prospects unloaded the grocery bags, the Old Ladies and I got settled. The kids were grouchy and hungry. Darcy fed them while the pregnant women took naps. I sat idly by, feeling useless.

After the kids had been fed and plopped in front of the TV to watch a movie, Darcy popped open a beer and handed it to me.

“Come on,” she said. “We’re going to the lake.”

“We are?” I asked in amusement.

She grinned. “Yeah. Hey, Cam…”

“Yeah, Mom?”

“I’m going to the lake with Linden. Watch your sister, okay?”

“K,” he said with an impish grin and then turned his attention back to the TV.

Darcy and I headed out the back door and took the path down to the lake. It was quiet and pristine, and if we weren’t there for the reason we were, I might’ve enjoyed it more.

“Cop a squat,” she said, sitting down at the bank.

I sank down next to her.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I guess because you’re asking that question, then you already know the answer.” I flashed her a grin and took a sip of beer.

“Waiting for news is bad enough. The fact that we’re in a dead zone of cell service doesn’t help. Sure, we have a GPS phone, so if we need something in an emergency, we have access, but out here, we’re basically cut off from it all.”

“Might be nice for a while, though,” I pointed out. “I don’t feel unsafe here. I just—the last thing I needed was more time to think, you know?”

“Have you tried meditation?”

I chuckled. “Good one.”

“It sounds like a crazy thing, but I’m serious. I meditate. When I started, I could only do it five or six minutes at a time. Now I can knock out an hour or more before bed. It helps.”

“Do you meditate before or after the cannabis oil?” I asked with a raise of my brows.

She grinned. “Depends on how hard the day has been.”

I laughed and shook my head, but then I sobered. “How do you do this?”

“How do I do what?”

“Be an Old Lady? How do you sit around waiting for news? How do you not go completely crazy wondering if your husband is going to come home alive?”

She paused as she played with the label on her beer. “You're really not going to like my answer, Linden. But I’m going to tell it to you straight anyway. I just do it. You become part of the community. You find your hobbies; you find your passions. You find your friends. You have children.” She smiled. And you just…deal with it.”

“You’re right. I don’t like your answer.”

She chuckled.

“My career means everything to me,” I said. “My career is my passion. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t do that anymore.”

Darcy took a sip of her beer. “There was never anything else you wanted to do?”

I shook my head. “Never thought I was going to have to entertain the idea that I’d have to do something else. I’m afraid it’ll make me bitter. If I can’t practice medicine, everything I’ve ever worked for is gone.”

“Only if you let it be that way.” She paused. “Do you like kids?”

“In theory. Why?”

She shrugged. “Just wondering if you were thinking about going down that path.”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” I admitted. “Are you glad you had kids?”

“Mostly.”

I snorted. “Mostly?”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you I was destined to be a mom. They’re challenging at the best of times. But they light up my soul in a way nothing else does. I’m not saying you should have kids or that they need to be your reason for living. And I’m not saying they can replace what you’ve worked for. I’m just saying, when one door closes, sometimes another opens. Life is odd that way.”

“Thanks,” I said. I took a long drink of my beer. “I don’t even know if Boxer wants a family. His dad was a real jerk.”

“I think he’d make a great father,” she said with a smile.

I sighed. “Yeah, I think he’d make a great one, too.”

“Are you worried about having kids because of the biker thing?” she asked pointedly.

I shook my head.

“Really?”

“Really,” I insisted. “I’m worried about having kids because I’m afraid I’m going to be no good at it.”

“Oh, you’ll fail for sure,” she said.

“Hey!”

She laughed. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, as a mother, you’re constantly worried that you’re screwing up your kids. But so long as they’re healthy and happy, you’re doing fine.”

“It’s not that simple, is it?”

“Why does it have to be complex?”

“I guess it doesn’t,” I allowed. “My parents screwed me up royally.”

“Have you forgiven them for it?”

I sighed. “I’m trying. I don’t know if it’s working.”

“Drink more beer. It helps.”

* * *

“But I don’t like chili!” Lily whined.

“Yeah, and beans make me fart,” Cam added.

I coughed into my napkin as Darcy glared at her children.

“I told you not to talk that way at the dinner table,” Darcy admonished.

“Can I have another bowl?” Silas asked.

“Kiss up,” Cam said to him.

“Hey,” Darcy warned. “Thin ice, buddy.”

“Hard pass,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Joni asked.

“She said hard pass,” Rachel said with a raise of her brows.

“Er—I’ll explain later.” I looked at Lily, who was scooping chili out of her bowl and not too discreetly feeding it to Captain, Silas’s rag-tail mutt.

“Fine. Today, the heathens win,” Darcy said. “Peanut butter and jelly it is.”

“Yippee!” Lily yelled.

The rest of us ate our chili, which by all accounts was delicious.

“Crow missed his calling,” I said. “Forget being a biker. He should open his own restaurant. He’s a stellar cook.” The prospect hadn’t just made us chili, but homemade bread to go with it.

“Some woman is going to be really lucky when she nabs him,” Mia said, rising from her chair at the kitchen table. She went to the sink and leaned over, placing her hand on her belly.

“Mia?” I asked. “You okay?”

My question drew everyone’s attention, except for Lily who was badgering Darcy for creamy peanut butter instead of crunchy.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her face was pinched, and her cheeks were white with pain.

Joni and I exchanged a look and both of us rose from the table.

“How long,” I demanded.

“How long what?” Mia repeated.

“How long have you been having contractions?” Joni asked.

“They’re not contractions,” Mia negated. “Just Braxton Hicks.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Are you a medical professional?”

She glared at me.

“Tell the truth,” Joni said.

“I wasn’t feeling them when we were driving here,” she promised. “But after I woke up from my nap, they started.”

“Where’s the nearest hospital?” I asked.

“About an hour away,” Rachel said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m not due for another few weeks,” Mia complained.

“Baby has other plans,” I said, snapping into doctor mode. I looked at Joni. “I’ll go with her to the hospital.”

“Ah, fuck a duck. I think my water just broke,” Mia said.

“You said a bad word!” Silas said, eyes widening.

“Don’t panic,” I said.

“South Paw can take you two in my car,” Joni said, handing me the keys.

Mia bent over and struggled through the pain. When a contraction cleared, I took her by the elbow and helped her to the door.

“Are you going to be okay?” Silas asked, fear coating his voice as he ran to Mia.

She placed a hand on his head and forced a smile. “I’m going to be fine. Your sister is just as stubborn as her father it seems, and clearly wants to meet you early.”

Silas grinned and gently wrapped his arms around Mia.

Crow and South Paw were sitting on the porch, and they both jumped up when they heard the front door to the cabin crash open.

“What’s going on?” Crow asked.

“Mia’s in labor,” I said. “South Paw is going to drive us to the nearest hospital.”

“Fuck, Colt is gonna kill me,” South Paw muttered as he took the car keys from me.

“Why is Colt going to kill you?” Mia asked. Crow went to her other side and helped her down the stairs.

“Because he told me he’d kill me if you went into labor early.”

“That’s not your fault. That’s his daughter’s fault. He can take it up with her when he gets back. You’re not to contact him on the GPS,” she commanded. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” South Paw said.

“You too, Crow. Promise me.”

“I promise,” Crow relented.

South Paw got Mia settled in the front seat, and then I quickly got into the back. South Paw and I attempted to keep up a steady stream of mindless chatter, but it was always interrupted by Mia’s heavy breathing and groans of pain from her contractions. I began to time them. They went quickly from five minutes apart to three.

As we pulled up to the hospital, her contractions were only ninety seconds apart.

“You sure hit the labor ground running,” I said with a smile.

“I was born early and fast. This is all genetic,” Mia explained. “Now that we’re back in cell service, I need to call my doctor and let her know.”

Mia was admitted quickly. South Paw remained in the waiting area, but I sat with her in the exam room.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said softly.

“Oh. Yeah, of course. I didn’t even think that maybe you’d want one of the other Old Ladies. I’m sorry if I—”

She shook her head. “I like your bedside manner. And you’re a doctor. I’m glad you’re here.”

I looked down at my hand that was in a cast.

“You’re coming in with me, right?” Mia asked. “To the delivery room?”

“You sure?”

She nodded.

“I’d be honored to be in the delivery room with you,” I assured her.

“I’m scared,” she admitted.

“I know.”

“I think you should procreate with Boxer.”

“What is it with you guys? You want everyone knocked up?”

“The next generation,” she said. “I love the idea of a huge family with tons of kids running around laughing and playing.” She paused and shook her head. “I keep seeing Lily as a young woman, and I keep imagining that moment she brings home a guy for the first time. And all her tattooed uncles give him hell and send him running.”

I laughed. “That’s such a clear visual.”

“Don’t you want to be around to see that?”

I paused for a moment, and then I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

She braced for pain, breathing through it. When it was over, she leaned back, exhausted.

An hour later, they wheeled Mia into the delivery room. She was ready to give birth to her daughter. I donned a pair of scrubs and took my place next to Mia.

“Okay,” the doctor said, smiling behind her mask. “During this next contraction, give me a big push.”

Mia nodded. The dark hair at her temples was damp with sweat, and her face was wreathed in exertion. When the next contraction hit, she clamped down and gripped the nurse’s hand.

The contraction passed, and Mia collapsed against the bed.

“You’re doing great,” I told her with a smile. I looked at the doctor, and even though half her face was concealed, I’d spent the better part of a decade reading facial expressions behind masks. And I knew the doctor was worried.

Mia shrieked.

She was feeling everything, because by the time we’d gotten to the hospital, it had been too late for an epidural.

After another push that failed to yield any results, Mia wised up and looked at the doctor. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“The baby is breech,” the doctor said. “We need to deliver her as quickly as possible.”

“Okay…” Mia said weakly, appearing afraid of what was coming next.

“When I say push, you push as hard as you can. With all your might. Do it for your baby, Mia, push hard when I tell you.”

Mia nodded and shot me a look of fear.

“We got this,” I told her. “I’m not going anywhere. You can do this. Do what the doctor says.”

“Okay, Mia,” the doctor said. “Now!”

Mia pushed and then let out a scream that chilled my blood.

“Give me one more good push, and she’ll be here. Come on, push!”

Mia clamped down and gave it her all, and moments later, her daughter was born. With a cry of relief, Mia fell back against the bed, her eyes on the doctor as she placed the newborn child against Mia’s chest so they could bond for a few moments before the umbilical cord was cut.

“How do you feel?” I asked her when the nurse took the baby to be cleaned and swaddled.

“Exhausted,” Mia said with a tired laugh. “And elated.”

“What’s her name, Mom?” the doctor asked, removing her gloves and tossing them in the trash and then pulling down her surgical mask to smile at Mia.

“Scarlett,” Mia said immediately. “Scarlett O’Banion Weston.”

“Beautiful,” the doctor said.

When we were back in Mia’s recovery room, she said, “I miss her. Is that weird? She was just inside me, and I actually miss her already.” She began to cry, so I did the only thing I could do. I crawled into her hospital bed and hugged her.

Mia fell asleep, and I quietly padded from the hospital room, in desperate need of caffeine. I went to the waiting room and told South Paw all was well and that there was a new Blue Angel baby.

He swept me into his arms and spun me around. The pressure on my bandage made my brand twinge, but I couldn’t stop the gurgle of laughter from escaping my lips.

And just like that, a new life had begun.