Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(100)

Mel came back into the room carrying towels. “How’s the back?”

She put a hand to her lower back and said, “Lots of pressure there, but it’s okay.”

“Here,” Paul said. “Try to lean forward a little.” He pressed his fingertips against the small of her back. “Does that help?”

“Oh, that’s good. Very good.” He moved his hands around the small of her back, then up to her shoulders, massaging them. “Oh, that’s lovely,” she murmured.

Mel stayed busy in the room, laying things out—instruments, blankets, gloves, basin. While Vanni went into and through another contraction, Mel simply organized her supplies, leaving Vanni’s contraction to Paul. When Vanni couldn’t lean forward during the contraction, when it pushed her back against the pillows, Paul just concentrated on massaging her shoulders and upper arms and neck. He found himself saying, “Relax and breathe, Vanni—in and out slowly. Good, good. How’s that?”

“Uh,” she said. “Uh, uh, uh! Ohhhhh.”

“Mel?” he asked.

“Yes, Paul?”

“Can’t you give her something?”

“No, Paul. She’s doing great.” Mel looked at her watch. “They’re coming closer.” When the contraction passed she said, “Let’s get you up, Vanni. Stand up for me—get a little help from gravity. Paul, let’s get her up.”

Vanni swung her legs over the side and with Paul’s assistance she stood up. When the next contraction came, she had to sit on the edge of the bed, which made it a little easier for Paul to rub her back. Mel slipped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. As the contraction passed, Paul urged her to stand again and they did that for a little while, up and down, up and down. And then, just as Mel entered the room again, Vanni let go with a great groan and her water broke, running in a huge gush to the floor. It splashed on Paul’s shoes and soaked the carpet.

“Well, that’s a good sign. Here, let me spread out a couple of towels and I’ll check you, see how we’re doing. By the way, a birthing party has begun out there.”

“Really?” Vanni said. Then she groaned and bent over, panting.

“I’m sure it was completely unplanned, but when Jack leaked it that you were in labor, Preacher and Paige came out—Christopher is watching a video, but he’s falling asleep on the couch. Mike and Brie are here, whipping up some snacks in the kitchen, keeping your dad and Tommy company. Jack’s giving David his evening bottle, and…” She stopped talking as she helped Vanni back onto the bed. Vanni’s knees came up, Mel pulled the gloves on and with one hand on her belly and the other disappearing between her legs, Mel said, “Well, now. Vanessa, you ought to do this for a living. You’re making great progress. Stay like that if you can—on your next contraction, I want to see if I can spread you a little bit.” She looked up over her belly. “Grab Paul’s hand and breathe—it isn’t going to feel good, but it might give us faster results.”

Paul got down on one knee at the side of the bed and held her hand, looking into her eyes. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m working very hard,” she said, breathless.

“I know. God, Vanni—I wish there was more I could do.”

“You’re doing so much, Paul. Oh! Here we go! Ughhhh.”

“Good girl,” Mel said. “Very good. Very good.” One gloved hand rested on her belly, the other disappeared again between her legs. “Pant,” Mel said.

Vanni panted, but then inevitably she whimpered from the pain and Paul instinctively put his lips against her forehead and held on.

“Okay, Vanessa,” Mel said, pulling out her hand. “You’re almost ready to start pushing.” She snapped off her gloves.

Paul noticed that when Mel withdrew her hand, there was blood on the glove. “Is that all right?” he asked. He gave a nod toward the glove.

“Perfectly normal,” she said. “We’ll be seeing a little more of that. You hanging in there?”

“Yeah,” he said. And then he thought, I’ve been tricked pretty good. Like I could leave her now. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to get a damp cloth, Vanni. Be right back.”

He went across the hall to the bathroom and first splashed cold water on his own face, then wet and squeezed out a face-cloth and hurried back to her. It was a done deal—he was in now. He glanced at his watch and was amazed to see that three hours had passed since he’d come off the job site. He heard the sound of the TV droning down the hall and laughter from the kitchen. Soft, polite laughter.

When he got back he noticed that Vanni was showing the effects of hard labor—her skin was glistening with sweat, her hair was damp and limp, her face looked twisted with the pain. He knelt again; Mel had spread some towels on the damp carpet, but the knees of his trousers were already wet. He didn’t care. He mopped her brow and held her hand through a few more contractions and then Mel gave the signal.

“Okay, Vanni—we’re going to do it. If you feel the urge, push on the next one.”

“Thank God,” she said weakly.

“Paul, I want you to support her from behind, help raise her up a bit. Vanni, you know what to do.”

Paul started to lift her and Vanessa said, “Not yet.” Then in a moment she was lifted off the bed in a horrendous urge to bear down and, remarkably, he didn’t have to be told it was time. He braced her from behind while she gave a huge grunt and strained, holding her breath, pushing for all she was worth. When she collapsed against the bed he asked, “Is he out?”