Casanova(94)

I put her back into bed wearing her panties and a light tank top. It didn’t cling to her stomach at all, and when she rolled onto her side, she actually pulled the material up and let her belly breathe. Her stomach twitched—more accurately something poked her stomach, and I widened my eyes.

She smiled. “You caught that?”

“Is there an alien in there?”

“Say hi to your niece.”

“I’m just gonna cover you up now.” I pulled the light blanket from the edge of the bed and pulled it over her. That was the freakiest thing I’d ever seen, and I didn’t want to see it again.

“No. Come here.” She rolled carefully onto her back and shoved the blanket away. “Give me your hand.”

“What for?” I could feel my eyes getting wider and wider.

She made a “gimme” motion with her fingers, and I had no choice. I put my hand in hers, and she guided my fingers toward her stomach. She paused before putting my hand flat on the side of her stomach and held it there with her own.

Something rolled against my palm.

I squirmed and tried to pull away, but Connie, still smiling, forced me to keep my hand there. With her other hand, she gently prodded the top of her stomach. Two seconds later, it felt as though the baby rammed its knee or something into where my hand was.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “She’s got a kick and a half.”

“She’s got a head-butt and a half,” she replied dryly. “If she had her back where your hand is, you might be able to feel.”

“I’m good.” I pulled my hand away when the baby wriggled against it. “Don’t make me do that again. It was weird.”

She smiled tiredly and put her hand where mine just was, closing her eyes at the same time. “Try being on this side of it.”

“I’m good on that too.” This time when I pulled the blanket over her, she left it. “I’m going to be downstairs, okay? Yell if you need me.”

She nodded, turned her head away from me, and pulled the blanket up a little more.

I grabbed my things and turned downstairs.





“Ah!”

I dropped my phone as I scrambled off the sofa.

“Lani!”

I took the stairs two at a time to reach Connie’s bedroom. When I got there, she was lying on her side, doubled over, with her teeth clenched. “What’s wrong?”

She dragged her eyes open and looked at me, pain etched into her features. “My tummy. It hurts.”

“Do you feel sick? Do you need a bucket?”

“No,” she whispered. “Not that hurt. It’s all tight and achy.”

Oh. Shit.

“Is it those things that Rachel had? In Friends? Hickey things?”

“Braxton Hicks? Maybe.” She blew out a long breath. “They haven’t hurt before. That woke me up.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Sit up. That might help. Do you still feel sick?”

She nodded as I helped her sit up. “A little.”

“Will you be okay if I get you some water? Ice?”

“Ice.” She shifted and grabbed her phone. “Please.”

I kissed the top of her head and went downstairs to fetch it.

“It says here,” she said as I walked back in, “to call your doctor if they hurt and are regular.”

I put the ice water on her nightstand. “Are they regular?”

She looked at me, her eyes wide with worry. “I don’t know. Oh god, Lani, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” I grabbed her hand. “It’s probably just because you’re sick. Let’s just rest for an hour and see, okay? I can always call your doctor.”

“Okay.” She reached for her water. “You’re gonna stay, aren’t you?”

I squeezed her fingers and smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”





One hour later, she’d had a few more painful ‘contractions’ and had thrown up again.

I stole her phone and dialed her doctor’s number. Her obstetrician was busy, so they put me through to a nurse who could hopefully answer my questions. I explained the problem to her.

“And you say the tightening comes with pain?” she asked.

“Yes. Around every fifteen minutes. Kind of. Some are regular, but then she can go twenty minutes with nothing.”

“All right. And she’s vomiting?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“When was the last time she was able to keep fluids down?”

“I’ve been with her for two hours, and she’s kept nothing down since I got here. From what she said, it’s been the same since seven this morning.”

“All right...” She trailed off for a moment. “How soon after drinking water is it coming back up?”

“Less than fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, Ms. Montana, I’d bring your sister up to the hospital. It could be that her vomiting has brought on some Braxton Hicks contractions, which are completely safe and normal, or it could be an indication of early labor. Either way, we can admit her and put some IV fluids into her to keep her hydrated.”

My lips were dry. Dry, dry, dry. “Early labor?” I asked quietly. “Does that mean...”