“Dr. Carter,” Cate says in surprise.
His face grows a smile at my wife in a way that says he’s familiar with her. “Mrs. Mercer, it’s good to see you again.”
I hold up a finger. “A moment.”
He glances up at me and I’m sure he’s dealt with plenty of fathers over the years.
“Sure.”
When Cate’s pain passes, I kiss her knuckles. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to step over here and talk to Dr. Carter.” I nod at the nurse and she steps over to reassure Cate while I confer with the good doctor.
Three steps and I stand to one side of the room with the other man. He gets the jump on the conversation to come.
“Dr. Mercer, your wife has nothing but great things to say about you. I’m sorry we haven’t met. Apparently, the two times I had the pleasure of seeing your wife, you had emergencies that kept you away.”
I take his proffered hand and shake it.
“Nice to meet you Dr. Carter. My wife mentioned you.” She had. She hadn’t said he was a he. Not that it should matter. I get to the heart of the matter. “Cate wanted to go without an epidural; however, she’s changed her mind.”
“I’m sure you know it all depends on how far along she is. Can you tell me about her contractions?”
I run down medically how labor began with her water breaking and what we did since that point. We’d opted to stay at home where I walked with her, rubbed her back and generally got her through the pain until this point. Last checked, I clocked the contractions at about five minutes apart and told him so. Although things had progressed on the drive over, she’d been so worried, I found myself talking to her instead of timing the pauses between her pain.
“As long as she’s not crowning, I can send the order for an Anesthesiologist to come down.”
“Andy, I think I need to push.”
Dr. Carter and I turn to see Cate. Her face is strained like she’s physically holding herself back. Frozen, we both watch as the nurse checks her.
“Dr. Carter, I think it’s time.”
He glances at me and I feel like an ass. He’s a doctor, not a pervert. I nod giving him permission to do his job as I quickly make my way over to Cate.
“It’s too late isn’t it?” she asks.
I give her my hand and push tendrils of hair off her forehead. “Let’s see what the doc says.”
Dr. Carter gives us the news. “Go ahead and push Cate the next time you feel it.”
And just like that, my gorgeous wife pushes our son into the world.
Over five years later, I steer my car through the streets of DC to get home. Traffic is ridiculous despite it being before rush hour. I’d hoped to be home by now. I pull into our Great Falls neighborhood in Virginia, just outside of DC. Our home is lit up and a smile forms on my face. When we first bought the place, Cate had been reluctant. I sold her on the safety of the neighborhood and good schools.
When I open the door, the real reasons for the large five bedroom house come running toward me.
“Daddy,” shouts my two and half year old daughter. Her blonde curls bounce as she wraps herself around my leg. I pry her off so I can toss her up and catch her, sending her into a fit of giggles. Her pink princess dress circles her before she lands in my arms. “Daddy, Dew called me a baby and said I need a labodomee. What’s a labodomee?”
I laugh for several reasons. One because she hasn’t yet mastered the word Drew, opting to call him Dew instead. Ethan had proved too much for her as well. Two, a lobotomy. I shake my head wondering where he hears this stuff.
“Ethan,” I call out. I had intended to ask my five-year-old about school. Instead, I will have to address his treatment of his sister.
My son with his dark hair so much like his mother’s is decked out in scrubs and carrying a doctor’s bag. He strolls around the corner as if all’s well in the world wearing a plastic stethoscope around his neck.
I bend down so we can talk man to man. “Ethan, let’s talk like men.”
“Then call me Drew, Daddy, just like Grandma calls you. I wanna be a man, just like you, Daddy.”
It’s hard to maintain my parental look. “Okay, Drew, did you call your sister a baby?”
His face changes to remorseful as I’m sure he knows he’s in trouble. “Emma cries too much and babies cry. So she’s a baby.”
I can’t argue with that logic and good thing my daughter who clings to my chest chimes in.
“He says my castle is just a bed, not a princess castle.”
I sigh. “Drew—”
“Dad, she’s needs a reality check.”
I chuckle unable to stop it. “Where did you hear that?”
“Mom said that to Aunt Shannon.”
I shake my head only imaging the conversation that preceded that statement. “You need to be nice to your sister and not tell her she needs a lobotomy.”
“But Aunt Shannon told Uncle Eric he’s crazy and needs a lobotomee. And Emma’s crazy.”
“Ethan Andrew Mercer.” I glance up to see Cate with her Mom face on. She does a better job at maintaining a stern face than I have in the past few minutes. Only, to me, she looks sexy as hell doing it. “You won’t go trick or treating if you’re mean to your sister. Now apologize.”
Drew’s head bows and he manages to eke out a “Sorree Emma.”
“Now go eat your snacks on the table before it gets dark.”
Food is more important than me as my kids rush off to the kitchen table. I stand so I can kiss my beautiful wife. It lingers and my hand catches the curve of her ass.
She giggles, which turns me on because she doesn’t laugh like that often. I have to shift because my scrubs won’t hide the evidence of my arousal. And that’s a conversation I’m not prepared to have with my kids.
“What was that for?” Her smile is infectious and it spreads on my face.
“You’re so damn beautiful Cate. I swear you get prettier every day.”
Her eyes warm her face. “You are full of shit. I look and feel like a beached whale.”
I rub her belly with my other hand. “Any day now.”
“Any day? My due date was two days ago. And I really don’t want to have a Halloween baby. Can you imagine throwing a party every year on Halloween?”
I laugh because she’s been talking about this since we first found out she could deliver near this day.
“Then you should get off your feet.”
I bend and catch her off guard. I lift her in my arms.
“You’re crazy. I weigh a ton.” She heartily laughs.
“You two should get a room.” I glance up to see my sister-in-law.
“Shannon, can you watch the kids for a few minutes?”
“Sure.” She winks at us. “Just as long as you take that somewhere else.”
I don’t ask twice. I carry my wife up to our bedroom and close the door behind us. I set her down in her favorite chair in front of the fireplace where I remove her shoes and massage the bottom of her feet.
“Really, you brought me up here for that?” She may be joking, but there’s heat in her eyes.
“Believe me, I want you. Sex, however, can bring on contractions and you said you wanted to wait another day.”
She shrugs. “It’s up to you, but you’ll be sorry. Six weeks will be a long time to wait.”
It isn’t like Cate and I have been abstaining. We’ve had sex every night this week because she was ready to give birth hoping to avoid this day.
“I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Or maybe, I’ll do you.”
She urges me to stand and come around to the side of the chair. I follow her instructions because I know what she’s about to do. And I’m right. She gives me the best damn blow job of my life. Practice can certainly improve on perfection. I didn’t think it possible, but it is.
Later, after I take the kids trick or treating, we sit on the on the back deck on a porch swing. Ethan finds a place in his mother’s lap as Emma curls herself in mine. Our two kids sleep as my fingers twine with Cate’s.
The swing rocks back and forth in a calming rhythm. Cate’s eyes are closed and her features smooth out. Her lips are curved as if she’s is having a pleasant dream. And I think about how lucky I am.