She nodded.
“Oh, shit,” Travis said.
“I guess we can leave now,” Trenton deadpanned.
I smacked the back of his head.
“Ow!” Trenton said, rubbing the point of impact. “What’d I say?”
“We’re down to two agents,” Travis said to Abby.
She breathed, focusing on another, more intense contraction. From experience, I knew the ones that came after my water breaking were always ten times worse.
“We should have someone come here,” I said.
“No,” Abby moaned. “I need drugs. I want drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.”
“Then what should we do?” I asked.
“Get a towel and put me on the couch until you figure it out,” Abby said through her teeth.
I ran for a towel while Travis picked her up and carried her to the sofa.
“Shit. Shit!” Abby cried. The demonic sounds she made after that sounded like a feral cat preparing to fight for territory.
I folded the towel and placed it on the couch, and watched as Travis carefully lowered her to the cushions. He kneeled in front of her.
“If I take you, they’ll just have Agent Blevins until backup arrives, and that could be a while.”
“We have the other two,” Abby said. Her face turned red, and she focused, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s too early, Trav.”
“What do I do, baby?” he asked.
“We have to go,” she said, the contraction finally over.
He nodded and pointed at me. “America, get the kids. Trenton, get Dad. Shepley, get the cars. We’ll need enough seats for everyone. Tell Blevins to prepare to follow and to stay alert.”
“On it,” Shepley said, rushing to the key ring holder to fish out the right sets.
I rushed upstairs, going first to Travis and Abby’s room. “Hey,” I said with a soft voice, rubbing the twins’ backs. They stirred but were pretty out of it. “James. Jess. It’s Aunt Mare. I need you to wake up. We’re going to the hospital. Mom’s having the baby.”
“What?” Jessica said, sitting up. She rubbed her eyes and then poked James. He sat up, too.
“C’mon, kids. I need you to get your shoes on and go downstairs.”
“Right now?” James asked. “What time is it?”
“It’s the middle of the night. But Mom’s having her baby, so we need to go.”
“Really?” Jessica said, scrambling up from her pallet on the floor. She was pulling on her shoes when I headed for the next room.
“Really. Downstairs in two minutes, please!” I said, rushing down the hall to where Olive was sleeping. “Olive?” I said, switching on the light. I sat down on the twin bed next to her. “Olive, sweetie, I need you to wake up.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked, rubbing her mascara-smeared eyes.
“We’re going to the hospital. Abby is having her baby.”
“But it’s not time yet, is it?”
“No,” I said. “It’s early, which is why she has to go soon. We all have to go together, so please get moving.”
She stood up, stumbling around the room to dress, and I rushed into the next room. “Boys?” I said softly. Emerson sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then jumped on his brothers. They began to fight. “Stop. Stop it. Knock it off. Right now!” I snapped.
They froze.
“Aunt Abby is having her baby. We’re going to the hospital. Get shoes on and let’s go.”
“In our pjs?” Ezra asked.
“Yes,” I said. I searched for Emerson’s sandals, finding one beneath his pillow. I wondered why for half a second before resuming the task of getting all the children dressed and downstairs.
At the same time Jim was stumbling from his bedroom with Trenton and Deana was helping Jack with the zipper on his jacket, all six kids were in the hallway ready to go.
“You’re amazing,” Abby said.
“I’m sorry I gave you a hard time earlier,” I said.
She waved me away, letting me know that no apology was necessary. We were working on two decades of friendship, and nothing was going to interfere with that.
Travis helped Abby to the truck, and Olive climbed into the back with him. Trenton drove, and Jim sat in the passenger seat. Jack and Deana climbed in with Agent Blevins. I made sure everyone was buckled in the van before hopping in next to Shepley. Agent Blevins’ headlights flashed on, and then another two sets flashed on further down the block.
“Shepley,” I warned.
“I think that’s the other agents they were talking about.” He clicked his seat belt into place, and we surged forward behind Travis’s truck.
With every bump, every red light, I thought about Abby.
“Why does it seem like the hospital is a hundred miles away when you’re trying to get a laboring woman there?” Shepley grumbled.
I remembered the first time Shepley drove me to the hospital, terrified the whole way that I’d give birth in the car and wishing I’d had a home birth. But I wasn’t in premature labor, either. Abby was particularly calm for what she was facing, but she was famous for her poker face. I imagined she was trying to keep it together for Travis and the kids.
I wrinkled my nose and turned around, irritated that I couldn’t reminisce or have a moment of internal dialog without the sounds of fighting children in the background.
“Jessica Abigail! No hitting! Ezra! Don’t try to put toys up your brother’s nose! Emerson! Stop screaming! James! Stop farting!”
It was quiet for a full minute before they all began chatting again as if nothing had happened. I rolled my eyes and glared at Shepley.
“Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” I said, my eyes narrowing.
“Give me a dirty look when the kids are driving you nuts? Like I magically impregnated you when you weren’t looking?”
“That is your DNA back there. It’s your fault.”
Shepley frowned, turning on his blinker and surging forward so he could continue to follow Travis’s truck instead of being stuck at a red light. He stretched his neck to peer into the rearview mirror, checking that Agent Blevins was still behind us.
“He probably just ran the red light,” I said. “He’s a federal agent on duty. I’m sure he’s not worried about a ticket.”
“He did,” Shepley said. “Damn. This is something.”
“You mean scary?” I asked.
The kids got quiet.
“Is Mom going to be okay?” Jessica asked.
I closed my eyes. It was so easy to forget when they were all chattering away that they were still paying attention. Kids could ignore us all day, but the moment we utter something we don’t want them to hear, they develop superhero powers. A few times, I was sure Ezra could hear me whisper the F word under my breath through two walls. Shepley glanced over at me and interlaced his fingers in mine. He’d told me hundreds of times how proud it made him to watch me mother our boys, and I took pride in it, too. They were messy and rough and sometimes deaf, but I handled it. Shepley didn’t think I’d never made a mistake, and I loved him even more for that. I could lose my shit, threaten, yell, and cry, but my boys didn’t want perfect. They wanted present.