MacKenzie Fire(20)

I miss the expression on Andie’s face, but not the tone of her voice. “Maybe the hospital?”

“Huh?” I look at her and see her skin going pale. Her eyebrows are coming down from her hairline.

“The hospital?” I ask, fearing her answer.

“Yeeeaaah…”

She doesn’t seem very sure. Now I’m suspicious. “Why?”

“Because either I just seriously peed my pants or there’s amniotic fluid on the floor by our feet.”

And just like that, I lose my appetite for waffles and bacon.





Chapter Seven





I DROP MY FORK AND place both hands flat on the table, staring deeply into Andie’s eyes. “Do not panic.”

“I’m not panicked.” She gives me a worried smile.

This is no time for joking, so I don’t smile back. “I’m serious. If your uterus falls out, I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with that. I’ve never Googled that before.”

She shakes her head. “My uterus isn’t going anywhere. But I do need you to go get the truck.”

I look over at Hannah and lift my arm, snapping my fingers rapidly. “Yo, Hannah!” I look under the table to see what we’re dealing with. There’s a very small puddle of what looks like pee there. “Bring a mop over, would ya?”

Hannah looks at me like I’ve suddenly sprouted two heads, so I go back to ignoring her in favor of Andie. “Can you get up?”

“I don’t know. I think so. But I’ll need your help.”

Getting out of the booth, I try to remember what that guy in the gun store said about the water-proofing on my new boots. When they say ‘water-proof’ do they mean uterus water too? Guess I’m about to find out.

I lean down so Andie can use my shoulder to stand. She pulls a bunch of my hair out by accident.

“Holy mother of all … watch the hair, Tubby!”

“Don’t call me that!” she says, half out of breath. Finally standing, she moans and holds the bottom of her stomach.

I look down just in time to see more water pouring down her leg. “Oh … my god … that’s nasty.”

“Candice, shut up. Just get the truck.”

“Okay, I will. Come on. You walk over to the door and I’ll run across the street.”

“What’s going on over here?” Hannah says, sounding annoyed.

“Baby coming,” I say, waving her out of the way. “Clean up on aisle three.”

She looks at the floor and than at Andie. “Oh my god, that’s … should I call an ambulance?”

I consider it, but then shake my head. “Nope. I’ll get her there faster. It’s not far.”

“How do you know?” Andie grunts out, shuffling as she holds her belly.

“I Google-mapped it,” I say, almost to the door. It’s then that I realize I don’t have the key to the truck. I turn around and hold out my hands, ready to catch. “Throw me the car key.”

Andie fishes around in her bag and tosses me a hunk of metal so big it bruises my hand when I grab it.

“What the hell?” I look at no less than twenty keys dangling from a conglomeration of four keychains.

“It’s the blue one,” she says, annoyed for some reason. “The blue one!”

“Okay, already, lighten up.” I’m saying that to both of us. I’m about to blow a gasket over this whole situation. Why’d she have to go into labor before I finished my waffle? As I throw the door open, I yell, “Call your husband! Tell him to meet us there!”

I run like the wind to the truck. The ice only kicks my butt twice, but I jump up and keep on going like nothing happened because I’m tough like that when in a crisis. I slide to a stop two blocks down from the diner at the tailgate of the truck, out of breath.

Dammit! This cannot be happening! The mighty metal beast is jammed between two other vehicles, both of them so beat up they look like they’ve been used in derbies. It’s so cramped in there, I can’t get any of the damn doors open enough to get inside.

No one’s standing around to move their stupid cars, so I do the only thing left to me. I climb up into the bed of the truck and push on the sliding glass window that’s behind the back seat. Thank goodness it’s not locked.

I’m glad I stopped eating bread two weeks before I came to Baker City. Otherwise, I never would have fit through that tiny hole. I’m halfway in when I realize that my super-cute cowgirl belt buckle is hung up on the frame of the car. I kick my legs and grab the front seat to pull myself in, straining with everything I have. It’s possible I look like I’m trying to swim through the truck.

“What in the sam hill are you doing now?” says a voice from somewhere outside.

I look up and see Ian staring at me through the front windshield. He’s standing on the sidewalk in front of a store that sells everything for ninety-nine cents.

“Shut up and help me!” My voice comes out sounding a little unbalanced. I feel a lot unbalanced right now, so I guess that’s appropriate.

“How about a please?” he says, smirking.

“How about your sister-in-law is in labor and her uterus is about to fall out? How about that?!”